For those of you who do know what I’m referring to, you know what comes next. Well I love my Skechers, but that’s because you don’t have a Prada backpack. Is it wrong to love what you know? Why would anyone love something they’ve never had? Strictly speaking, who would love something as out of style and unattractive as a pair of Skechers. At least over the name as highly regarded and pristine as Prada. I realize it’s no longer the 90s and I have no idea what a Prada backpack looks like, but go with me on this one. Let’s pretend that this Prada backpack is the holy grail for you. Something you’ve always wanted, but only dreamed about. You’d do anything to get it. Maybe you even went as far as to take a trip to santi alley and get yourself a knockoff. Looks like the real thing as much as it can, but every time you put it on. You feel that awful synthetic leather. Then one day some bitch in line at Starbucks calls you out on the flaw that proves it’s fake. Leaving you embarrassed and defeated. You think, screw this bag, I’ve got a fine pair of Skechers right here and I can learn to love them.
A couple days ago, this line kept on repeating itself in my ADD brain and I thought, how far away is this from the doom of settling into a relationship? In the beginning, you start out with specific ideals and qualities you want in your significant other. Whether it’s a guy who will buy you jewelry for your birthday or gets you flowers just because. The kind of girl that lets you watch football with your guys and doesn’t grill you every time your phone goes off. A guy who gives you his jacket when you’re cold and not afraid of PDA. I could obviously ramble on and on, but whatever it is we want, its something we’ll always be striving for. The problem is that when we try so hard to get those things, we end up picking the wrong person for the job. Like trying to fit a square in a round hole as they say, some things just wont ever fit. So maybe he doesn’t give you his jacket when you’re cold, but at least he holds your hand. He’s not the kind of guy who believes in gifting flowers, and she can’t stand it when you want to hang out with your guys. Some of you try to train them; others just convince yourself it’s just a matter of time. If you haven’t figured it out by now, people don’t change. And the longer you wait it out, the more likely you’ll begin to believe you don’t deserve what you want. You start wondering if your demands are just too high. Are you sure you’re being reasonable? Aren’t they doing enough? Before you know it, you’re dating some pathetic excuse for an adult who likely treats you like shit and takes you for granted. All the while you sit there and taking it, being beaten into metaphorical submission day after day. Telling you AT LEAST they do this or that. Clinging onto the minute instances they show some nicety. Slowly rolling yourself out, leaving your mate to stomp all over you.
Why? You’ve settled. And worse, you’re comfortable with it. You found your nook and you’re sticking to it. You’ve abandoned all the things you wanted and in the process completely abandoned yourself. You once held yourself in high regard, claiming you deserved a, b and c. And now what? This person has claimed all of you and all you’re holding onto is at least. Is that truly better than being alone? As someone who is a barrel full of fun, romantic cynicism, I know how this story goes very well. I rip on couples that hold onto each other in movie theaters, on girlfriends who receive blue boxes on special occasions. Men who open doors and offer to pay the bill are a myth in my opinion. And quite obviously, its because I allowed myself for so long to believe I didn’t deserve any of that. I admitted defeat of getting that damn Prada backpack and forced myself to love those awful Skechers. Take plenty of offense you sketcher wearers, everyone knows you’ve settled and it’s about time you picked up on that. It may be scary to admit you “deserve better”, but if you’re hearing it from even one person, chances are you do. It’s always going to be easier to love what you know, especially if you’ve developed quite the collection of Skechers. And even though I don’t know what it’s like to have a Prada backpack to love, I know now that I deserve one. And I’m not going to sit here any longer, forcing myself to love another ugly pair of shoes. I’m going to get that damn Prada backpack. From what I hear, they’re worth the wait.