The case for higher standards
As of late, I've become even more introspective than usual. Perhaps it has something to do with my impending move and tightening budget, thus keeping me from distracting myself in ways to which I have become accustomed...or maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have been solidly single for the longest period of my adult life. Regardless of the reasons, during the past couple of weeks I've been trying to come to terms with aspects of myself that I think have kept me from achieving healthy relationships and/or stable happiness.
Since I turned 18, there have been three male...experiences...that have defined the canon of my adult relationships: an unmotivated slob, an arrogant wannabe-philanderer and a selfish pothead. As is the human condition, I am quite apt to compare and contrast these three experiences. Firstly, they all started out as what should have only been one-night-stands (my joke has always been, "Well, I guess I'm so awesome they had to come back for seconds...and thirds..."). Secondly, they were all fairly smart, yet they only had brief brushes with higher education (I will explain what I feel is the relevance of that later). Thirdly - and probably most importantly - all it took were repeated sexings and pretty words - masterful strokes of my petulant ego - for me to fall for all three, which led to a complete disregard of the major problems I had with all of them just for the sake of feeling like I mattered to someone.
And this is where I finally realize my need for higher standards.
Out of the three, I think US was probably the truest, most sincere. Looking back...god, I was so young then. You think you know what you want at that age, but you never really do. I thought I wanted to get married then, and I thought he was going to be the one. He was nice, and I do believe he loved me, but...he was lazy, lazier than I've ever been. Our room was always a federal emergency disaster area because he never cleaned up after himself, and I'm a bit of a clutter bug myself, so it was just...awful. I can't believe I lived like that. He also had some...personal hygiene issues that I now look back on and can't believe I didn't insist upon him correcting. Like I said, I was young. But my biggest problem, and what ultimately led to my disenchantment with him, was his absolute inability to stay motivated. His mom was totally willing to pay for him to go to school, and he slacked on it. He lost his job - because of his own negligence - and was unemployed for nearly three months, plunging himself and myself into what would be my first round of debt. Things started falling apart, but honestly, I probably would have stayed with him if AWP hadn't entered the picture because I truly believed we were meant to be together. I cheated on him, and even after he found out, he was willing to stay with me...yet I learned my first lesson at that point: if I was unhappy enough to cheat on him, then there was probably little that could be done to salvage that relationship. I left him, and though I am not proud of the way it came to an end, ultimately, I'm glad it did.
Talk about the foolishness of youth, though...I moved 600 miles away from everything I knew on a wish and a humid crotch. Again, I was enraptured by words and lust...AWP, at the start, made me feel sexy and confident, something I had never really felt before. Yet, it was by and large a mirage, a fact that my headstrong nature wouldn't allow me to see. Don't get me wrong; there was some good that came out of that relationship - and I should hope so after four years - but what cast a deathly pallor over the whole of it was that I never felt like I was enough for him. He always talked of other women and he always looked at adult hook-up websites (though he claims he never acted on it, that he was just on there to see if other women found him attractive). It drove me insane, because all I wanted was to be the one. Wasn't it good enough that I found him attractive? Wasn't it good enough that I was there for him and would do anything for him? Halfway through, the atmosphere changed and a vicious cycle began from which we would never recover: he looked at those websites, I stopped wanting to have sex with him, so he looked at them more, so I became less and less attracted to him. He didn't have a problem talking loudly and unabashedly about butt sex or his ridiculously sized porn collection, but if I shared aspects of our relationship with a close friend, he flipped his shit. If he knew I were writing about him now, he would probably have a huge issue with it, but honestly, I don't care. It's my perspective. AWP is not a bad guy, but I realized far too late that he definitely wasn't the one for me. He claimed he was confident; I more often than not took it for arrogance. He claimed he loved me; I couldn't see how that was the case if he was constantly lusting after other women. I found him increasingly mean and unappealing, but once again, I thought there was no one else, so I stayed, hoping things would get better until finally, I realized I had to try to make it on my own. Our split was somewhat mutual, though I'm pretty sure he blames me more for it than himself. After all, he thinks he's amazing; why would anyone want to leave that?
Then there was SP. All he was supposed to be was a rebound. Honestly, after four years, I just wanted to get up on a dick and know that I could, that someone else would find me attractive enough to wave their cock in my general direction. What sucks is that I genuinely attempted to keep my distance for awhile, but all it took were compliments and some awesome cowgirl-style sex for me to let my guard down. What sucks even more is that I knew in the logical (and henceforth often ignored) part of my brain that there would be no future with him; his smile, his laughter and his words were easy, but for all intents and purposes, he is a loser. Anybody who feels like he needs to be stoned pretty much every waking moment is not someone who has a firm grip on reality. Buuuut I liked him. A lot. Maybe I thought I could save him, I dunno. I saved US from virginity, I thought I could save AWP from being a manwhore, and I thought I could save SP from constant drug use. Anyway, I enjoyed hanging out with him immensely; despite the drug use, I felt the strongest personality connection with him of the three...and he acted like he felt the same way. Yet when I came out and told him I did like him a lot, he shut down, and when I went searching for a reason why, he refused to give me that closure. For someone who claimed to care about me so much and respect me as an awesome person, he sure didn't care too much about giving me what I needed to hear to move on, which I have finally classified as cowardly and selfish as opposed to there being something inherently wrong with me. Unfortunately, of the three, though he ultimately meant the least, his exit from my life hit me the hardest, sending me into a wild tailspin of self-loathing and erratic behavior. I could not, for the life of me, wrap my head around the manner in which he filled my ears with such high praises yet refused to just come out and be completely honest with me, despite his claims that he always had been. It's something that I'm just now starting to really come to terms with, and though it's been difficult and has hurt me tremendously, it has made me realize a few different things.
1.) I ABSOLUTELY NEED HIGHER STANDARDS. No more of this falling for the first guy who tosses a glance my way. Most guys will fuck anything; I need to stop equating a dick in my mouth with a sense of self-worth. I used to look around at other girls who get guys, girls who are boring, unattractive and have absolutely nothing of substance to say, and think, "What's wrong with me that I'm not getting that?" Yet now I'm starting to realize that maybe it's not so great getting that kind of attention because I haven't been factoring in the likelihood that the guys in those scenarios are complete losers, too. I'm not trying to be a snob, but I'm not interested in wasting anyone's time anymore, especially my own.
2.) NO MORE RANDOM SEX. I have to at least set some kind of foundation in place before getting to that point now. This will be difficult because, yes, I am very sexual, but at least this whole tailspin has taught me one thing: fucking for fucking's sake is not appealing to me. It's joyless and reeks of desperation...and most likely will not result in a positive experience for me. Though I am very clitorally driven, I am still, at heart, a romantic, and feeling a strong connection with someone because of common interests or perspectives makes sex about a bajillion times better. Again, I need to focus on the fact that just because I may go weeks or months without getting laid now does not mean I'm worthless; I'm just waiting for a guy who is worth something, too. Plus, giving it up right off the bat leads to a serious clouding of judgement. Would I have ended up in any one of those three scenarios had my vagina not been screaming out for more attention? Probably not.
3.) TWO STANDARDS EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY:
a.) THIS ONE IS ABSOLUTE: I do NOT want to be with someone who feels like he has to be intoxicated all of the time as a way of life. Whether this means constantly boozing it up or hitting a bong, I don't care, I am not attracted to anyone addicted to either. Now socially doing these things on occasion, I'm all for. I enjoy going out or staying in and getting crazy with my friends, but every day? Hell to the FUCK no. What a waste.
b.) This one is flexible, but something to which I'm staring to give more credence: I want someone with a college degree. Remember before when I said those three guys all had some college experience but never finished? That, to me, shows a lack of dedication. As I like to say, don't be retarded; finish what you started. All three of them were smart enough, but not motivated enough to see it through. Now I say I'm flexible on this because I do understand; college isn't for everyone. In fact, I've lately taken to bemoaning the fact I went to college seeing as how I know plenty of people who didn't graduate who make more money than I do, but that has more to do with the line of work I've chosen than college itself, I suppose. And I guess not everyone with a college degree is necessarily driven; however, I do think it's important, and it is something I'm going to start considering when I start dating again. It won't necessarily be a deal breaker, but it will definitely be a plus.
4.) THE MOST IMPORTANT: I need to embrace that fact that I DON'T NEED ANYONE to feel like I'm worth something. This has been, and will be, the hardest thing to overcome. My confidence has always been tied to this, from when I was a young girl to the present, that if I'm not with someone, it means I'm not good enough. What I have failed to really understand up to this point is that being with someone who isn't right for me is just as bad, if not worse...that the wrong person can actually be a more violent drain on my self-worth than not having someone at all. AWP and SP are all the proof I need for that; sure, they made me feel great at first, but as time went on both of them managed to make me feel really, really shitty about myself, and I shouldn't put so much weight on external forces in determining my level of confidence anyway. I know I have a lot to offer - I am intelligent, I have a killer sense of humor, I am loyal, my interests are varied and widespread, I am multitalented - and though I don't have a perfect body, I at least know how to rock it and am working on becoming more confident with it. Yes, I do still want someone - more for companionship than anything, someone with whom I can share a tasty meal, witty conversation and amazing sexings. But I have to recognize this as a want, not a need, and that being single does not make me less of a person. I think to really be fair, I have to be right with myself instead of throwing myself into "saving" someone as a way of saving me.
Obviously I don't have everything figured out. I say these things with resolve now, but everyone knows that old cliché: actions speak louder than words. I don't need friends or a self-help book or a counselor to tell me any of these things; I know what I need to do to get to a better place, to start feeling genuinely good about myself, to finally be in a place where I don't find myself chasing after the wrong kind of guy and entangling myself in damaging relationships. Now it's just a matter of seeing it through and not letting the threat of defeat buttfuck my attempt at nurturing confidence and self-worth into oblivion. I need to see that I am better than what I've put myself through in the past, and whether I'm alone or I have someone, I deserve happiness.
Here I go.
Since I turned 18, there have been three male...experiences...that have defined the canon of my adult relationships: an unmotivated slob, an arrogant wannabe-philanderer and a selfish pothead. As is the human condition, I am quite apt to compare and contrast these three experiences. Firstly, they all started out as what should have only been one-night-stands (my joke has always been, "Well, I guess I'm so awesome they had to come back for seconds...and thirds..."). Secondly, they were all fairly smart, yet they only had brief brushes with higher education (I will explain what I feel is the relevance of that later). Thirdly - and probably most importantly - all it took were repeated sexings and pretty words - masterful strokes of my petulant ego - for me to fall for all three, which led to a complete disregard of the major problems I had with all of them just for the sake of feeling like I mattered to someone.
And this is where I finally realize my need for higher standards.
Out of the three, I think US was probably the truest, most sincere. Looking back...god, I was so young then. You think you know what you want at that age, but you never really do. I thought I wanted to get married then, and I thought he was going to be the one. He was nice, and I do believe he loved me, but...he was lazy, lazier than I've ever been. Our room was always a federal emergency disaster area because he never cleaned up after himself, and I'm a bit of a clutter bug myself, so it was just...awful. I can't believe I lived like that. He also had some...personal hygiene issues that I now look back on and can't believe I didn't insist upon him correcting. Like I said, I was young. But my biggest problem, and what ultimately led to my disenchantment with him, was his absolute inability to stay motivated. His mom was totally willing to pay for him to go to school, and he slacked on it. He lost his job - because of his own negligence - and was unemployed for nearly three months, plunging himself and myself into what would be my first round of debt. Things started falling apart, but honestly, I probably would have stayed with him if AWP hadn't entered the picture because I truly believed we were meant to be together. I cheated on him, and even after he found out, he was willing to stay with me...yet I learned my first lesson at that point: if I was unhappy enough to cheat on him, then there was probably little that could be done to salvage that relationship. I left him, and though I am not proud of the way it came to an end, ultimately, I'm glad it did.
Talk about the foolishness of youth, though...I moved 600 miles away from everything I knew on a wish and a humid crotch. Again, I was enraptured by words and lust...AWP, at the start, made me feel sexy and confident, something I had never really felt before. Yet, it was by and large a mirage, a fact that my headstrong nature wouldn't allow me to see. Don't get me wrong; there was some good that came out of that relationship - and I should hope so after four years - but what cast a deathly pallor over the whole of it was that I never felt like I was enough for him. He always talked of other women and he always looked at adult hook-up websites (though he claims he never acted on it, that he was just on there to see if other women found him attractive). It drove me insane, because all I wanted was to be the one. Wasn't it good enough that I found him attractive? Wasn't it good enough that I was there for him and would do anything for him? Halfway through, the atmosphere changed and a vicious cycle began from which we would never recover: he looked at those websites, I stopped wanting to have sex with him, so he looked at them more, so I became less and less attracted to him. He didn't have a problem talking loudly and unabashedly about butt sex or his ridiculously sized porn collection, but if I shared aspects of our relationship with a close friend, he flipped his shit. If he knew I were writing about him now, he would probably have a huge issue with it, but honestly, I don't care. It's my perspective. AWP is not a bad guy, but I realized far too late that he definitely wasn't the one for me. He claimed he was confident; I more often than not took it for arrogance. He claimed he loved me; I couldn't see how that was the case if he was constantly lusting after other women. I found him increasingly mean and unappealing, but once again, I thought there was no one else, so I stayed, hoping things would get better until finally, I realized I had to try to make it on my own. Our split was somewhat mutual, though I'm pretty sure he blames me more for it than himself. After all, he thinks he's amazing; why would anyone want to leave that?
Then there was SP. All he was supposed to be was a rebound. Honestly, after four years, I just wanted to get up on a dick and know that I could, that someone else would find me attractive enough to wave their cock in my general direction. What sucks is that I genuinely attempted to keep my distance for awhile, but all it took were compliments and some awesome cowgirl-style sex for me to let my guard down. What sucks even more is that I knew in the logical (and henceforth often ignored) part of my brain that there would be no future with him; his smile, his laughter and his words were easy, but for all intents and purposes, he is a loser. Anybody who feels like he needs to be stoned pretty much every waking moment is not someone who has a firm grip on reality. Buuuut I liked him. A lot. Maybe I thought I could save him, I dunno. I saved US from virginity, I thought I could save AWP from being a manwhore, and I thought I could save SP from constant drug use. Anyway, I enjoyed hanging out with him immensely; despite the drug use, I felt the strongest personality connection with him of the three...and he acted like he felt the same way. Yet when I came out and told him I did like him a lot, he shut down, and when I went searching for a reason why, he refused to give me that closure. For someone who claimed to care about me so much and respect me as an awesome person, he sure didn't care too much about giving me what I needed to hear to move on, which I have finally classified as cowardly and selfish as opposed to there being something inherently wrong with me. Unfortunately, of the three, though he ultimately meant the least, his exit from my life hit me the hardest, sending me into a wild tailspin of self-loathing and erratic behavior. I could not, for the life of me, wrap my head around the manner in which he filled my ears with such high praises yet refused to just come out and be completely honest with me, despite his claims that he always had been. It's something that I'm just now starting to really come to terms with, and though it's been difficult and has hurt me tremendously, it has made me realize a few different things.
1.) I ABSOLUTELY NEED HIGHER STANDARDS. No more of this falling for the first guy who tosses a glance my way. Most guys will fuck anything; I need to stop equating a dick in my mouth with a sense of self-worth. I used to look around at other girls who get guys, girls who are boring, unattractive and have absolutely nothing of substance to say, and think, "What's wrong with me that I'm not getting that?" Yet now I'm starting to realize that maybe it's not so great getting that kind of attention because I haven't been factoring in the likelihood that the guys in those scenarios are complete losers, too. I'm not trying to be a snob, but I'm not interested in wasting anyone's time anymore, especially my own.
2.) NO MORE RANDOM SEX. I have to at least set some kind of foundation in place before getting to that point now. This will be difficult because, yes, I am very sexual, but at least this whole tailspin has taught me one thing: fucking for fucking's sake is not appealing to me. It's joyless and reeks of desperation...and most likely will not result in a positive experience for me. Though I am very clitorally driven, I am still, at heart, a romantic, and feeling a strong connection with someone because of common interests or perspectives makes sex about a bajillion times better. Again, I need to focus on the fact that just because I may go weeks or months without getting laid now does not mean I'm worthless; I'm just waiting for a guy who is worth something, too. Plus, giving it up right off the bat leads to a serious clouding of judgement. Would I have ended up in any one of those three scenarios had my vagina not been screaming out for more attention? Probably not.
3.) TWO STANDARDS EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY:
a.) THIS ONE IS ABSOLUTE: I do NOT want to be with someone who feels like he has to be intoxicated all of the time as a way of life. Whether this means constantly boozing it up or hitting a bong, I don't care, I am not attracted to anyone addicted to either. Now socially doing these things on occasion, I'm all for. I enjoy going out or staying in and getting crazy with my friends, but every day? Hell to the FUCK no. What a waste.
b.) This one is flexible, but something to which I'm staring to give more credence: I want someone with a college degree. Remember before when I said those three guys all had some college experience but never finished? That, to me, shows a lack of dedication. As I like to say, don't be retarded; finish what you started. All three of them were smart enough, but not motivated enough to see it through. Now I say I'm flexible on this because I do understand; college isn't for everyone. In fact, I've lately taken to bemoaning the fact I went to college seeing as how I know plenty of people who didn't graduate who make more money than I do, but that has more to do with the line of work I've chosen than college itself, I suppose. And I guess not everyone with a college degree is necessarily driven; however, I do think it's important, and it is something I'm going to start considering when I start dating again. It won't necessarily be a deal breaker, but it will definitely be a plus.
4.) THE MOST IMPORTANT: I need to embrace that fact that I DON'T NEED ANYONE to feel like I'm worth something. This has been, and will be, the hardest thing to overcome. My confidence has always been tied to this, from when I was a young girl to the present, that if I'm not with someone, it means I'm not good enough. What I have failed to really understand up to this point is that being with someone who isn't right for me is just as bad, if not worse...that the wrong person can actually be a more violent drain on my self-worth than not having someone at all. AWP and SP are all the proof I need for that; sure, they made me feel great at first, but as time went on both of them managed to make me feel really, really shitty about myself, and I shouldn't put so much weight on external forces in determining my level of confidence anyway. I know I have a lot to offer - I am intelligent, I have a killer sense of humor, I am loyal, my interests are varied and widespread, I am multitalented - and though I don't have a perfect body, I at least know how to rock it and am working on becoming more confident with it. Yes, I do still want someone - more for companionship than anything, someone with whom I can share a tasty meal, witty conversation and amazing sexings. But I have to recognize this as a want, not a need, and that being single does not make me less of a person. I think to really be fair, I have to be right with myself instead of throwing myself into "saving" someone as a way of saving me.
Obviously I don't have everything figured out. I say these things with resolve now, but everyone knows that old cliché: actions speak louder than words. I don't need friends or a self-help book or a counselor to tell me any of these things; I know what I need to do to get to a better place, to start feeling genuinely good about myself, to finally be in a place where I don't find myself chasing after the wrong kind of guy and entangling myself in damaging relationships. Now it's just a matter of seeing it through and not letting the threat of defeat buttfuck my attempt at nurturing confidence and self-worth into oblivion. I need to see that I am better than what I've put myself through in the past, and whether I'm alone or I have someone, I deserve happiness.
Here I go.