You know what makes us the craziest? The thing making our inner psycho bitch come screeching out? What makes our insecurities scream for attention?
It’s not dating, it’s not men, and it’s not our mothers.
It’s us, and all our great expectations.
We need to stop expecting guys that we’re “kinda seeing” to text back within 30 seconds. We need to stop expecting our next match.com date to be our future husband. We need to stop expecting our friends to always be on the same page as we are in life. We need to stop because we are only making ourselves miserable. We are heaping an incredible amount of pressure on the people around us, and we’re setting ourselves up for major disappointment. We can’t control what people do, and the sooner we learn that, the better off we all are.
I have made myself miserable and sick when some fairytale bullshit fantasy I created in my head didn’t (shockingly) pan out. I have seen my friends act like human beings I don’t even know (or want to know) because they expected a guy to do something, and unbeknownst to him, he didn’t deliver.
Guess what ladies (myself included), kisses aren’t contracts and just because you felt some amazing connection with a guy doesn’t mean he felt it too. Sucks I know, but stop making it a million times worse.
Do you know why? It is because he’s already doing it.
You won’t have to expect him to text, because he’s already *gasp* called. You won’t have to expect him to ask you out, because he’s already planned a date, and I mean a real date; none of this Netflix and chill bullshit. If a guy is really into you, you know it. It shouldn’t be so damn stressful, and if it is, you’re the one who is exerting all the effort. You need to reel that shit in, like now. Put down the Pinot and your iPhone. I promise I am right.
“Men think so differently than women do.” That’s what we hear, isn’t it? Hell, I said those words today. Then I thought about it and I think it’s a 100% wrong. We’re not so different. If some guy was blowing up your phone, asking you to hang out every day, all day; basically kissing your ass while he’s up it, you’d tell your girlfriends he’s a stage five clinger. You would be considering changing your phone number, and you’d probably block him on social media because, of course he’s stalking you. I know you would. I’ve done it more times than I can count.
He liked a pic that was a year old. Hello, major stalker status. No one, male or female, wants to be with someone who is coming off as desperate and 100% available all the time. Desperation is the most unattractive thing. We all want to be with someone who is confident, who has a life, and most importantly, is happy with their life.
That’s sexy. That’s what we all want more of, because we want to be a part of it, it’s intoxicating. A little bit of intrigue goes a long way. Don’t lay all your cards on the table from Jump Street.
I’m not advising you to play games. I’m advising you to have a full and beautiful life you love. I’m advising you to find an addition to your life, not a replacement for a life. Do you know what feels amazing? When you get asked out on a Friday, and you say, “Unfortunately, I’m unavailable Friday, but how does brunch Sunday sound?” I want you to say it because it’s true, you have a fabulous Friday night planned. You wouldn’t dream of cancelling your plans for some GUY.
Sometimes the stars align and you meet someone who is as enthralled with you as you are them. You can double text all day without reservation. You can hang out every night and Netflix isn’t code word for a booty call. It happens, But it doesn’t ALWAYS happen, and guess what? We need to stop expecting it to. We need to be focused on our families, friends, careers, and hobbies. We need to create a full life on our own. We need to be so busy living our lives we’re not waiting for a text that may or may not come. We need to stop expecting some guy to make us happy. They can’t make us happy if we’re not happy with ourselves. We need to stop allowing them to make us miserable when they fall short of our great expectations. It’s not their fault. It’s ours.
We’re the assholes breaking our own hearts.