1. “Are you sure you want to eat that?”
I eat a salad for lunch every day—the same salad, in the same Tupperware, with the same toppings. Every. Single. Day. This is partly because I have no time, so throwing three heads of lettuce into a giant bowl every Sunday night eliminates the daily “What should I bring to work tomorrow?” dilemma. This is partly because I’m poor, so buying lunch every day is completely out of my budget if I want to be able to afford rent regularly and partly because I like being skinny and a daily dose of lettuce keeps me skinny.
However, if I want to eat a cheeseburger slider with sweet potato fries on the side because I deserve to treat myself every once in a while, I’m going to do it. I’m going to eat the fuck out of that cheeseburger and I’m not even going to be mad about it. So there is no reason for you to concern yourself with my eating habits unless you are cooking for me—and even then, if I want you to cook me a cheeseburger and sweet potato fries, that’s what I want. If you can eat whatever you want on a date, then I can, too. Stop judging me and embrace the fact that you’re on a date with a girl who knows how to eat a cheeseburger with graceful confidence.
2. “Why aren’t you wearing heels?”
There is one main reason why I am not wearing heels right now: I don’t want to wear them. They’re uncomfortable, they hurt my bunions (yes, I’m 22 and I have bunions), and they make me sweat because walking becomes more of an aggressive exercise than a casual stroll. Though I love that they make my butt look firmer and my legs look longer, sometimes they’re not worth it. If I’m going to be walking 1.5 miles, you’d better believe I’m going to be wearing my flats. There’s no such thing as constructive shoe criticism, especially when it comes from a guy.
Also, why aren’t you wearing heels?
3. “Don’t you want to make more money?”
Let’s get one thing straight: I’m the only one who is allowed to trash-talk my job. I may not have gotten a fancy degree in finance from Yale while interning on The Hill during the summers and solving world hunger during the winters. I may not be living in a penthouse in the Financial District with my own private rooftop and views of the Freedom Tower. I may not even be able to hold a lengthy intelligent conversation about politics because I hate it and do everything in my power to avoid it.
I’m an English major from a small liberal-arts university working in public relations who wants to be a writer. You may not understand my job and you may not respect my job, but my job doesn’t define me. I don’t assume that your fancy consulting job is your sole reason for living, so why would you assume that of me?
4. “Being a writer isn’t really a job, is it?”
This is probably my biggest pet peeve of all time. There is always a good amount of underlying judgment when I tell someone that I want to be a writer. I have a hard time admitting this to a stranger in the first place, especially because my primary job does not revolve around writing and I do it during any spare time I can find. But who are you to tell me what is or is not considered a job? If I’m good at it, it makes me happy, and I can make a little money on the side, then I can call it whatever the hell I want.
5. “I just need a girl to come over and make my apartment look presentable for when other girls come over.”
First of all, if that’s some sneaky way of getting me to your place, it’s weird and I hope it has never worked on any self-respecting woman. Second, here’s the thing: Yes, I have seven Pinterest boards dedicated to home decor separated by each stage of my life. I knew how I wanted the color scheme of my dorm to look before I knew what college I was going to. I knew I wanted my first apartment to be bohemian before I knew what city I was going to live in. So your assumption is relatively warranted. However, making your apartment look presentable is not my job. Especially if I’m only doing it so you can impress other girls with your impeccable style. If you want it done, do it yourself. Or you just need to get used to blue sheets, white walls, and stained wooden countertops.