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  • How to Stay in Love and Be Happy in a Relationship ForEVER!

    I think we all know the narrative of the classic love story. Human meets human. They fall in love. They have sex 3-5 times a day. They think this will never change. They know they are the real deal, the ones who have found the hidden elixir of eternal love and lust. They are convinced they are different. They move into together. They are happy. But who’s turn is it to unload the dishwasher? Why are your dirty socks always on the sofa? Don’t use the sponge to wipe up the floor! THAT’S FOR THE SINK! No, you take out the trash! I did it last time. Who’s turn is it to make dinner? But I cleaned up yesterday! Why are you in such a bad mood all the time. No, YOU’RE THE ONE WITH TOO MANY EMOTIONS! Why are you always interrupting me? That’s my story… I want to tell it! I don’t want to watch that show, I want to watch THIS show. I guess we can have sex. Did you brush your teeth? Does that mean I have to brush my teeth? No it’s fine, I’ll do it. Wanna put some music on? Not that track, I hate that track. Have you always had this mole?

    The intimate relationship of living with a person and committing yourself to them is not an easy dynamic. Cohabitating means you’re exposed to MANY different sides of a person. No one is in a good mood all the time or has the energy to consistently be on their best behavior, so as a consequence you’re going to see the worst of your partner. (Except for me, I’m always a delight) It’s the moments of witnessing the shadow side of your lover that you may even feel some hate for them, but here is the question – how long do you hold onto that hate? How easy is it for you to access forgiveness?

    Genuine forgiveness is the KEY INGREDIENT to keeping the cherry pie of your relationship stay fresh. When you start to resent your partner, and are unable to forgive them for their behavior, that’s when you know you’re in trouble. Forgiveness is best accessed when the other person owns their shit and can say to you, “Whoops, I know I just took a huge metaphoric dump on the rug of our love and it’s smelly and moist, but hey, I’ll clean it up. Maybe the scent will linger for a bit, but I won’t deny my shit stank up the room. I also have this Nag Champa incense we could burn.”

    Of course, not everything a person does is forgivable. People can be abusive and if you’re living in that paradigm and keep forgiving then you’re putting yourself in danger (emotionally and physically). Yet for many of us our problems with our partners aren’t major red flags but more insidious scratches all over the body, and if you have too many, you will slowly bleed to death. You have to have time to heal each abrasion before the next one forms because even if they scar, they at least are no longer open decaying wounds.

    Having unconditional love for a person doesn’t mean you don’t have boundaries. I used to think that to show unconditional love I had to always say “yes” and do what a person wanted. But that’s not sustainable. Saying “no” is sometimes the most loving act you can do if saying “no” means you won’t resent them in the future. Unconditional love is what we are looking for, yet that means we also have to give it. So how is this achieved?

    We have to separate the person we love from the behavior we want to choke them for. People don’t change, but behavior does. It’s hard to fathom changing who you are, but it is totally possible to change how you act. When you’re with a partner you love and respect you have to take their feedback of your behavior and modify accordingly. Chances are the stuff you do that drives your partner crazy also drives everyone else fucking crazy. Your partner just nags you about it more because they have to goddamn live with it!

    We have to train the person we want to be with to be the best versions of themselves. Just as if you got a puppy, you wouldn’t just expect that puppy not to piss in your shoes. You’d train them how to act so they’d know what behavior was acceptable. Some people lack the skills of being a good roommate and they have to be taught how to be so they aren’t insanely annoying. The more your partner is willing to be influenced by you, and learn from your wisdom, the more you will be able to work together in being the best versions of yourselves more often.

    A lot of my friends who date men often accept their ways because they assume that’s just how men are – especially around the house. NO! People have so much potential for growth, you just have to figure out the best strategy to motivate them to work with you not against you. Many men haven’t been taught to access their nurturing, caregiving, or homemaking sides. But a life partner than can cook, do the laundry, care about your emotional needs, express their emotional needs, clean up after themselves, take care of children, is a person that’s more fun to live with. When the woman takes up all the slack of running the house, holding the emotional space, and has to also work a job – she’s going to feel bitter. When a person refuses to evolve you’re going to resent the shit out of them. But you sometimes have to train your lover to learn that evolution is best for all parties. The better person you are to your partner, the better person you are to the world at large.

  • Emotional Hand Jobs

    I have a lot of social anxiety around people. Wait, let me rephrase that – I have a lot of social anxiety around people that don’t know me and I have to prove my worth through some sort of pithy conversational cue that indicates my humanity and suggests there’s more to me than a woman who has dirt under her fingernails from some unknown source. Considering my personal preference to eliminate all superficial banter that Homo Sapiens are seemingly comforted by, I usually start off with such talking points as, “tell me your primal wound,” when meeting a stranger. My interest is in wanting desperately to know who someone truly is, and not hiding behind the conventions that masquerade us as the happy, perfect, success we all want to be perceived as. I want to know your darkest parts, your deepest shame, your emotional-self, the piece of you that scares you the most – and wouldn’t you know it, not everybody is down for that journey?

    Living in the woods for the past 9 years has insulated me from the societal pressures of impressing humanoids. In my community of cuntree living I’m mostly accepted as my authentic self. The chipmunks understand my crude nature, the trees don’t judge my incessant yammering about capitalism fueling the psychological raping of the patriarchy, and the grass is accustomed to my endless well of genitalia infused humor. Yet when I leave my population of moss-covered rocks and venture into the big world of urban existence where I’m exposed to a plethora of people to connect with, I tend to constantly question who the hell I’m supposed to be in order to be liked.

    Of course there the simple answer is, “yourself”- be yourself Toni!

    Or another answer is, “who cares what people think?”

    Both of these I agree with and try and implement, yet who is “myself” around those I don’t know? How can I not be aware of how others perceive me when I can’t help but notice as their brow furrows at my comment about “butt-fucking corporate greed” and how soon we will be a population of genetically modified humans where only the wealthy will be able to afford designer, Nietzschean, Uber-babies while the poor will lack the resources of genetic perfection thus igniting a cultural war between the immortal demi-god elite and the deformed, polluted, regular humans? I see how their eyes glaze over as they slowly excuse themselves from talking to me, and move stealthily away to have more comfortable conversations with someone else – avoiding eye contact should I return with more polemic antidotes.

    I’m a lot like cilantro in that way. To some, I taste very soapy.

    I struggle with accepting the fact that I turn a lot of people off because I realize I’m making a choice to approach people in the way that I do. I know I could be more likable if I was socially lubricated enough to give out emotional hand jobs. Deep down I know I am capable of deep throating their desire to stay on the surface and discuss things that aren’t as emotionally loaded as, “does your dad actually love you?” Yet instead I feel this need to avoid jerking someone off even if I know they’d enjoy my company more and instead end up furiously metaphorically masturbating while staring them in the face hoping they eventually drop their trousers and do the same.

    I feel torn about wanting to be liked and wanting to be real because those things don’t always go together.

    When I was a young kid I didn’t have any friends. SURPRISE! I had my older brother and he was the only playmate I needed. When I started the 1st grade I made one friend named Trudy who didn’t wear underwear, so I knew she understood a lot more about life than I did. She was also great at cartwheels despite the provocative consequences of the afore mentioned fashion choice. Trudy moved away for the 2nd grade, so I made one more friend to replace her. She was a very shy girl with ringlets named Ashley and we spent most of our time not talking and jumping rope. In the 3rd grade I was separated from Ashley so I became friends with a girl Lizzie, who had an exceptionally impressive blond ponytail that swung when she walked. Lizzie was popular because she was the new pretty girl with the hot hair and the popular boy had a crush on her – and as we all know – a women’s value is often defined by the caliber of boy that likes her because… the patriarchy. Yet sadly Lizzie and her luscious mane moved away after one year, leaving a black hole of the “popular girl” vacuum to be filled. I figured I would go back to my life of obscurity and singing songs about frogs and pigs with Ashley, yet because I had been Lizzie’s best friend, I inadvertently inherited her crown.

    I found being popular to be very stressful. Having many friends is theoretically nice, but when you’re a co-dependent, people-pleasing, 9- year old that feels responsible for the emotional happiness of others and has been socialized by Catholic guilt to prioritize everyone but yourself because love is conditional and only given when behaving in the manner adults want – it can be a bit overwhelming. I always wanted my friends to be happy and this created a dynamic where I was more concerned about being who THEY wanted me to be rather than who I actually was. I was intuitive enough to understand the parts of me each friend preferred, but then my personality became a performance art of negotiating the traits each audience member was most likely to enjoy.

    I lived like this for ummmm… 30 years? There was this hyper concern about the needs of others that made it impossible to prioritize the needs of myself or truly settle into the relationships that made the most sense for me. I was so desperate for love that I’d take it from anyone, even if it meant folding myself into an origami shape of their liking – “oh you’re not into me, well how about you try Toni as crane.” It wasn’t until I birthed a human that I started to address shedding this strategy of manipulating others by manipulating myself into the manipulated figure they most fancied. Not only because of my child’s all-consuming unconditional love that accepted all, didn’t judge, and whose only expectation was my utter devotion – but also because taking care of a kid is very time sucking and forced me to prioritize what was actually important.

    I think we all change, mold, and develop as we grow, but for me personally becoming someone’s mother shook me out of a coma of my own making. I started to genuinely feel like, “who gives a shit what anyone thinks but her?” My kid’s opinion of me is truly the only one that matters and she thinks I’m the fucking shit. The Munch loves my videos, she thinks I have a beautiful voice (I don’t), and she’s convinced I’m an accomplished artist purely because my hearts aren’t crooked and I can draw a descent star shape. Not that I’m basing my sense of self purely on my daughter’s perception of me because I’m aware there will come a time when she’s resentful, rebellious, or questions why she can’t smoke pot in the house when mommy does – but what I have learned from raising The Munch is that I will never be able to be who someone wants me to be because they will ALWAYS want more. They will endlessly suck from my teat, ingesting the milk of my efforts to please them and then digest my excretions while expecting me to change the diarrhea in their diapers.

    So I’ve gone the other direction. I’ve come to terms with the fact that not everyone is going to like me, and maybe I even speed that process along by being so unapologetically myself right out the gate. If you’re not interested in discussing the future of A.I. and how maybe hating yourself is what you love about yourself most, then we probably aren’t going to have a lot in common anyway. I’m not perfect at this practice of course. I can get intimated by strong personalities that think they’re better than me because hey – you probably are better than me. I can allow myself to feel bullied in conversations if the person I’m engaging with resists my efforts because they are stuck in their own ideology and too closed-minded to be willing to explore. I can find myself back in old patterns of wanting to please and allowing comments I think are dumb, offensive, annoyingly sexual towards me, or purely shallow. When I’m at my strongest I challenge, and when I’m at my weakest I acquiesce and let things slide I later wish I didn’t. Yet life is a work in progress and I guess the best I can do is keep forcing myself on people and hoping I run into those that are interested in investigating their darkness with me.

    April 18, 2018 • change, children, emotions, Mommyhood, Musings, Parenting, Political Banter • Views: 805

  • The Real-Estate Agent In Your Brain (Renting Out Your Depression and Anxiety Apartments)

    When I am my happiest, I am thinking the least. Not a lot is going through my head when I’m having a good time. I’m not thinking about my own personal failures, the fact that humans are currently causing our 3rd massive extinction of animals, or about the inevitability of implicit bias and how our collective unconscious mentalities only further subjugate the already oppressed and vulnerable. I’m not thinking of any of that, or feeling the inevitable depression that coats those thoughts, but instead I strip down, allowing my brain cavity to empty out the pesky thoughts of the overwhelming inequality in the world, leaving space to forget all that momentarily to instead notice the beauty, hope, and potential all around me… and then of course I take another hit of weed.

    When I’m at my most depressed, I’m thinking a lot. My mind is filled with the futility of my artistic pursuits – how I’m just spinning wheels, existing in a vortex of my own mediocrity and meaningless efforts. I question why I spend my time yearning for something I’ll never achieve because my poor life choices mixed with average abilities have rendered me forever insignificant. My head will then fill with the living nightmare of my political and social impotence to be part of a real revolution that annihilates the economic system that has corrupted every facet of human culture and serves as the driving force of ecological terrorism we’ve enacted on the planet. I’ll lose myself in these thoughts that everything is so insurmountable and regardless of my emotional boner to penetrate society with my positive influence, I’m instead a flaccid inactive member that hangs pathetically, ashamed of my own inadequacy.

    Everyone feels this way right??

    Most people I know battle with depressive thinking. We all choose to handle it in our own ways. We self-medicate, masturbate, and believe that smoking a vape is safe. Yet the truth is, there are countless things to be legitimately depressed about, yet we all crave reprieve from that all consuming feeling of no feeling. No one wants to be depressed. There is a massive industry promising you relief from this encompassing emotion, and people will deal with the side effects of dry mouth(s) and soft dick for liberation. Depression is a pervasive feeling that has swept across this country with millions of people aching to sweep it off the platter of their emotional plate for good.

    We can be depressed about a romance gone sour, a love that has curdled in the cup of your heart that you don’t know how to reverse the rotting process. So you think about this person obsessively, not because it feels good, but because it feels bad. It’s almost as if you’re not the one doing the thinking. That someone else is controlling your mind as if with a remote. Every time you try and change the channel to something else, they change the channel right back to your heartbreak. You try desperately to watch something benign like animal planet, but this demon keeps forcing you “Clockwork Orange” eversion therapy style to instead stay tuned to the reality show of your bitter rejection.

    Maybe you’re depressed because you can’t have the career you want, the baby you want, or the life that you want. When your needs aren’t being met, or you feel at the mercy of a culture that’s designed to keep you down because you’re not the status quo, it’s natural to feel hopeless, helpless, and despondent. Yet those feelings are often not in the backdrop of your brain, quietly murmuring in a corner of your mind, but instead they are the loudest voices in your head – reminding you constantly of their existence by screaming their discontent.

    Why is it that when you WANT to think about something else, you CAN’T? Aren’t you the only person in your mind? So then why can’t you choose what you do and don’t think about!? If YOU don’t want to be thinking about something, yet can’t stop thinking about it, then WHO is the one making you think about it? Is there a real-estate agent in your mind renting out the rooms of your psyche?

    Imagine your brain as an apartment building, and each feeling is an apartment in your head. Let’s say you’re in a relationship, and you give that person the keys to your penthouse. The penthouse is of course the pinnacle of your mental energy, so by living in the penthouse your lover becomes the thing you think about the most, care about the most, and are most consumed with. If the relationship is good, or you’re in that initial phase of love/lust where everything seems perfect and full of possibility, then allowing yourself to daydream about that person all day feels okay. But what happens when the relationship starts deteriorating? Then thinking about that person is going to make you feel like shit, yet you can’t not think about them because they live in the fucking penthouse of your brain! In order to stop thinking about them, you need to get the keys back!

    You tell the real-estate agent in your mind that you’re breaking up, so your lover can’t live in the penthouse anymore. The real-estate agent then says “Okay, so we’re evicting Chad from the penthouse – who wants to rent the space now? Oh ‘Crippling Self-Doubt’ your application looks good and I see you have the full down payment. Wow, ‘Self-Loathing,’ your credit score checks out – y’all wanna be roommates? Now, who wants to rent the anxiety apartment because we just remodeled it and added a few extra rooms in including a master bath for depression! Oh Chad you’d like to live in anxiety now? Sure that works out, and you’re new girlfriend can even have her office in there, so perfect. Ummm let’s see, looks like suicidal thoughts has a room to fill, any takers? Looks like Chad wants a few more keys to some other apartments. How about right before bed thoughts, and first thing in the morning thoughts? Great. Oh, and of course Chad, here is the key to listening to music and watching people kiss on the street.”

    Who lives in the penthouse of your mind? If it’s another person, career goal, how fucked up the world is, or a specific vision of how your life should be – chances are that you’re going to think about things that make you miserable. We have no control over other people, we have no control over our success, we have no control over the Illuminati, and we have no control when it comes to constructing the perfect life. If your penthouse is rented to something or someone you have no control over, then you will always feel powerless in your own mind. Instead, why not rent out the penthouse of your brain to the process of self-growth? Not a specific vision of what that looks like, but rather the simple journey of self-reflection and actualization. If you decide that your one goal in life is to evolve at whatever pace makes the most sense at the time, then you are no longer a victim of circumstance. You are the architect of your own personal progress, and you can design your penthouse for you. Maybe your kitchen is messy and the master bedroom is still under construction, but you still sleep well in the guest room and the walk-in closet is finally finished. As long as you’re working towards progress, you will always feel some sort of mental peace. Yeah the world is a fucking trashcan filled with racism, sexism, hate and fear – but the greatest form of activism starts with empowering yourself to have the mental energy and emotional bandwidth to put yourself out there in the face of all the adversity and try. Why rent your penthouse to anyone else besides your self-awareness? It’s YOUR penthouse after all. Would you own an apartment building and live in the basement? So why would you do that in your own head?

    Of course for some many of us that are in debt, the targets of bigotry, or suffering from severe trauma – your penthouse is going to have some squatters. When you are struggling financially and worry if you can feed your family, those thoughts are going to plague you. If you’re a person of color constantly reminded that your life doesn’t matter, these thoughts will haunt you. If you’re the victim of some awful crime it’s going to be incredibly to hard push those thoughts out of the penthouse. You maybe have to have some unwanted tenants in your penthouse, but you STILL have to insist that it’s YOUR name on the lease, and your RIGHT to kick them out as you gain strength and need more rooms.

    Then don’t forget how do you want to design the rest of the building? You are going to have an anxiety apartment, a self-doubt apartment, a self-loathing apartment… But how big are they? Who are you renting them out to? Who are you allowing in these spaces? What about your love apartment? Your feeling optimistic apartment? How big are they? And what is your screening process like? Don’t let rats and vermin take over your building and make sure you’re only giving out keys to those with impeccable references!

    Look at this lovely bath in the penthouse in your brain!!!

    April 12, 2018 • ambitions, emotions, Musings, problems, Relationships, responsibilities • Views: 1343

  • The Solution for Lonely White Men to Be Less Lonely

    The plight of lonely white men is a cry heard from a thousand rooftops across the country – like a barking baby seal, yapping it’s discontent with a piercing echoing sound that penetrates the eardrum, rousing my auditory cavity with both irritation and empathy. I feel for this archetype of the lonely white male because he comes to his pain honestly. In this hyper-capitalist patriarchal world, if you were to win the genetic lottery of being a man, and white, you’re basically born on 3rd base of the playing field of life. So when white women born on 1st base, or people of color born in the dugout, or immigrants born in the goddamn parking lot surpass you in economic or social success – dashing by you as they round the bases for a home run – the failure feels extra potent.

    As a woman, if I’m an economic failure it’s not THAT big of a deal for me psychologically because the game is already rigged against me. It’s considered cute that I tried so hard. The inbred sexism that is still alive and well in not only the work force but society at large gives me a rational explanation for why I’m not thriving. Sure sometimes institutions need a token female to float around in their sea of men, (and in that way being a female can be an extra advantage), yet even when you’re used as a tool for diversity, it’s still a lot of work to hammer your way in.

    Being a white male is a lot of pressure, and being a white male that feels like you’re drowning despite your life-vest being secured tightly, probably is particularly depressing. I can see how this would ignite disdain towards those that don’t directly benefit from the patriarchy as a mask to hide the shame. It makes sense that there is an unconscious rage brewing that’s being externalized because the internal anger at the self is too much to contain. There is a cause behind this movement of men that feel victimized, marginalized, and discarded in this “politically-correct, post-modern, over-sensitive world.” Yet men feeling the oppression of problems caused by other men, then blaming it on “feminism,” or “reverse racism,” is divisive thinking that only empowers “the 1% man” that’s actually eating us all for dinner.

    The loneliness of white men is often attributed to a lack of connection. Many men find themselves socially isolated and lack opportunities for deep emotional bonding. When looking at the psychology of these mass shooters, loneliness is often mentioned as one of the causes for this kind of extreme erratic behavior. This lonely, lone wolf that lacks connection to the pack, so their solution is to murder a bunch of people to feel less alone in their pain. Of course not every lonely white man becomes a mass murder, some of them fill their time calling women “cunts” on the Internet, so… it’s a spectrum.

    This feeling of loneliness and emotional isolation for white men is spreading with the tenacity of HPV. They often have a reaction against “politically correct” culture because they feel personally attacked. Women and people of color yammering on about the patriarchy seem like a direct insult rather than a plea for alternative structural systems that aren’t so one-sided. Rather than acknowledging the imbalance of how society has been set up for thousands of years and listening to the experiences of how others have coped, they shun those conversations in fear of being blamed.

    Yet the irony of this situation is that the solution to this loneliness white men feel that makes them feel so closed off is actually right under their noses.

    When I listen to men talk to men, they tend to discuss common interests. They find topics they have opinions about, and then stay in that safe space of conversation. When you listen to women talk to each other, they tend to talk more about their lives and how they feel about different events that happen to them. When I hang out with my best friends most of our time is spent catching each other up on all the things that happened since the last time I saw them. So rather than expecting men to get all their emotional needs met by their friendships with other men, what if men had more female friends that were purely platonic (ie not trying to fuck) to help them better connect to their emotional selves?

    The not trying to fuck these women is the KEY ingredient to this dynamic being successful. Women – much like bloodhounds – have a keen sense of smell and are aware when they’re being hunted. If I know a dude is talking to me purely because he’s trying to nose dive into my muff, I tend to be a bit guarded. Yet if I’m having a conversation and don’t feel mentally undressed and choked lightly while being pushed against a wall, I might open up more! The beauty of male/female friendships is that lonely men can then not only get better acquainted with their own feelings, but they could also learn more about what women think.

    Men often don’t read books written by women or with women protagonists. Men don’t watch movies about women (unless a woman dragged him there and there is a potential blow job on the line). Men mostly don’t listen to Podcasts hosted by women. Men are not forced to take gender studies classes, or feminist theory – they would have to choose to have curiosity about these subjects and pursue it on their own accord. We often hear men complain that they “don’t understand women” or that ladies are “too complicated, “ with all our uterine undulations and random leaking of tears and blood. Yet women are no more complex or emotional than men, women just have had greater exposure to the psychology of men, and therefore understand them better. By simply going through the educational system and living life women are accustomed to reading books by men about men, watching movies made by men about men, and digesting the entire human history almost exclusively through the eyes of men because women weren’t educated and considered property for the last few millennia. Men don’t have the reputation that women do of being “complicated” but that’s not because they are truly any simpler. I don’t find men that mysterious not because they’re not multifaceted creatures, but because I’ve been constantly exposed to their thinking for all my years on this planet.

    If men had more female friendships that highlighted the humanity of the women and not their sexuality, they would benefit greatly from the wisdom women have – not only about other women and how to be more appealing to them, but also around the female perspective of life. The more men are empathetic, understanding, and aware of the feminine experience, the more they will actually come to learn about themselves, their mothers, and the world around them. The female voice may have been silenced in most of recorded history, but the influence was always there. Why do you think the calendar is marking the months connected to moon cycles – because periods that’s why! Men that have a heightened awareness of the plight of women will actually better understand their own plight in the end. Women have so much to offer men intellectually, spiritually, emotionally, yet when they are treated purely as receptacles for sperm deposits, all that potential personal growth is lost.

    So my advice to all the lonely white men struggling to find emotional peace in this world is to make more lady friends that you’re not trying to finger bang and instead use those hands of yours to learn to massage feet, braid hair, cook better, hug, and tear down the patriarchy one brick at a time with the rest of us.

    April 4, 2018 • change, Current Events, emotions, Health, Political Banter, Relationships • Views: 1342

  • Toni Bologna’s Valentine’s Day Guide To a Loving, Lasting, Lusty, Relationship

    Well it’s that special time of year again where you look at the love of your life, gaze into their adoring eyes, and say, “Fuck, is CVS still open because I forgot to get you something?” Or maybe you’re single and feeling society’s absurd pressure that being alone means your lonely because no one likes to admit the deepest loneliness you will ever feel is in bed next to a person you’re sick of fucking. No matter what your predicament, Valentine’s Day is ready to make you feel inadequate! Yet even though I think Valentine’s has become a commercial nightmare of modern materialism that infiltrates expectations and manipulates minds into feeling eternally unsatisfied regardless of relationship status, it’s still cool to celebrate love I guess?

    I love you, because you love me, and I need you to love me so I can love myself… so thanks for that! As such, here is my gift to you. My Valentine’s guide of relationship advice that I think will make you less of an asshole. You’re welcome!

    1. Treat Others How They Wanted to Be Treated: There is the common cliché to treat others how you want to be treated, which is all fine and dandy with strangers, yet I think you can do better with your partner. You can’t just treat your partner how you want them to treat you because you are different people with different needs. I for one, find unloading the dishwasher an aphrodisiac. Nothing gets me wetter than a clean kitchen! Yet I can’t expect the same of my partner! The key to showing love to the one you love is knowing them well enough to understand THEIR love language. The more you observe what makes THEM happy and what makes THEM feel loved, the more you can speak to them your adoration with your words and actions. It’s not enough to know what you like and what you want, you have to take the next step and learn what THEY like and want. Just because you like a finger in your ass doesn’t mean your partner does! You can’t just go around blasting asses without knowing the crucial information of this being an appreciated act! The key to being a loving partner is having curiosity about how your partner wants to be loved and appreciated. If this feels mysterious to you, then ask your partner how and when they feel most loved by you and I’m 100% sure they will have some suggestions.

    2. Just Because You Feel Mad Doesn’t Mean You Have To Act That Way: People fight in relationships. This is normal. Sometimes you get mad at your partner. Sometimes your rage is reasonable, and sometimes it’s your own fucking problem. Yet when you’re angry it can be hard to differentiate if your reasoning is rational, or merely a product of your own unresolved issues. But guess what you guys? Just because you’re mad, doesn’t mean you have to act that way. You can easily express with words, “I’m upset by your actions and need to take time to process my feelings,” yet still act cordial. There is literally no reason to ACT like a dick just because you’re hurt. You can be hurt, yet simultaneous treat your partner with respect. They aren’t going to hear or understand your pain more just because you’re huffing and puffing, slamming doors, yelling, or breaking computers. You don’t have to put your partner down with insults, or have that aggressive guarded energy where your face is all contorted and your body language resembles Mike Pence. You can be mad and act kind at the same time!

    3. Only Argue When Your Heart is Open for a Solution: You know that feeling when you’re really upset about something, and you’re just not ready to not be upset? Well that’s the worse time to talk to your partner. When your heart is closed and your holding onto your anger, bad day, frustration, nothing your partner says is going to change that. It’s fine to have your heart closed and wallow in self-pity, but that doesn’t mean you have to inflict that energy on the person you love – that’s what Fiona Apple is for. When you don’t feel like feeling better, then fine! Stay in that mode and listen to music, or punch a punching bag. Yet there is no need to argue in that state of mind. It won’t go anywhere! You’ll just go round and round in circles in a merry-go-round of past resentments. Only talk to your partner about problems when your heart is open to finding a solution.

    4. You Don’t Have To Join Every Fight You’re Invited to: Sometimes your partner is in a pissy mood and ready to pick a fight, yet that doesn’t mean you have to accept their invitation. Nine times out of ten we inflict pain because we feel pain. So rather than getting seduced into a blame game about not filling up the car with gas, instead try and show compassion that the person in front of you that is being really argumentative, and annoying, and making you want to pinch in the genitals is probably hurting from profound unsettled past traumas. This is a great opportunity to take a step back, breathe, and see if you can help them uncover what is actually causing them suffering.

    5. Get Ready for A Life Time of Forgiveness: You’re going to have to forgive your partner for their bullshit behavior… a lot. Just as you’re going to have to forgive yourself for your own bullshit behavior. Getting close to someone and fostering intimacy means that people will let their guard’s downs, and sometimes get emotionally lazy. When you’re around someone a lot, it’s hard to always be your best self, and that’s understandable. When you feel truly comfortable around someone, you tend to have moments where you try less hard, which leads to lame behavior. So when your partner acts wack, the best way to forgive them is coming together to understand WHY they acted that way. Dissecting the motivation of destructive behavior will help change the pattern. The more you focus on the “why,” and not the “what,” the easer it will be to understand each other and ourselves. So the next time you do something that you later realize was pretty unnecessary, figure out why you acted in that manner, do your best to understand how to improve that part of yourself, and forgive yourself for not always being your best self because you can learn a lot from your worst self too.

    6. You Don’t Have to Change to Be Loved, Just Suck Less: A lot of people feel the pressure to change in a relationship. You have to change to be a better partner. You have to change to be a better person. But guess what? You don’t have to change. Change in an insane expectation. We aren’t grasshoppers that can morph into locusts to create ecological mayhem across the grasslands! We’re humans, and no matter what, we can’t change that fact. I’m telling you to stop expecting yourself to change because change feels very daunting and basically impossible. Thinking you have to change is exhausting, and will probably make you not even try. How about you see things this way? You’re already a perfect being of light with infinite potential. All the things you want to be, you already are, or have the latent talent to be. You want to work harder… well; there is a part of you that already knows how to do that. Just be that part of you more often. You want to eat better? There is also a part of you that knows how to do that, so be that part of you a greater percentage of the day. You want to be kinder, more patient, more loving?? You already are those things somewhere inside you, just be that way more often. You don’t have to change; you just have to be your best self for a greater part of the day. You don’t have to change because you have so much beauty inside you already because you are perfectly capable of being your best self more often.

    7. You Have to Share Reality With Your Partner: This one is key, and has a lot do with self-reflection. You have to be open with your partner and yourself about the wounds of your past. You have to understand your inner child, how they were traumatized, and how they act out in your adult life. You have to take the time to unpack your conditioning, and deprogram yourself from society’s socialization. This is no easy task and most people avoid asking these hard questions because it’s emotionally taxing to truly take the time to know yourself. But the more you know yourself, the more you can be vulnerable and honest with you partner about your inadequacies. This is crucial because the worst thing you can do to your partner is hurt them deeply, and then not understand the pain you caused. But you can’t understand the pain you cause, unless you understand the pain you were caused. It’s like a bio feedback loop of suffering that Elon Musk should make a car from and then blast into space. When you know yourself, you can better understand your impact on your partner, and share their reality about how you’re perceived. Maybe you’re really jealous because a past love has cheated on you? Maybe you take out that jealousy on your partner because you’re scared of losing them? Maybe your jealousy manifests in a destructive way that pushes your partner away? You have to own that you’re like that, share why you’re like that, and work together to heal from past pain. Maybe you feel love is conditional because your parents didn’t emotionally invest in you and you felt abandoned? Maybe that makes you hyper needy and subsequently smothering? You have to embrace the truth of your fears around love because you are unconsciously punishing your partner because of past pain. You have to share in the reality you create with your partner, and both equally understand the parts you play. You can’t be playing Othello while your partner is playing King Lear. Those roles don’t share a common reality. You have to be in the same Shakespearean saga with your partner and develop a mutual understanding of both the love and pain you share.

    February 14, 2018 • emotions, Musings, Relationships, Sex Stuff • Views: 1609

  • Do You Want To Share Reality With Me?

    The other day the Munch was having a play date with a friend, and they started arguing over which game to play – bakery vs. chipmunks making poop pie. Now call me out of touch with the youths, but I personally didn’t see a difference between the two ideas. I suggested they merge the games by one pretending to play bakery, and the other pretending to play chipmunks making poop pie. Sounds reasonable right? Well, it’s fucking not according to these girls.

    The girls condescendingly explained to me that my vision of separate realities would not work for them, and then rolled their eyes at my ignorance. They instead had to agree on a shared reality of what they were playing, even though what they were playing was pretend. I had assumed that since the game existed purely in their imaginations, it didn’t really matter what the other person was imagining – but I was goddamn wrong. It mattered a fuck of a lot to these girls, and was worth spending the next 20 minutes negotiating with the complex nuance of a Palestinian freedom fighter and Israeli soldier. These kids refused to continue playing their fantasy game until they had agreed on a common understanding of their imaginary experience.

    The sharing of reality was crucial, even inside a make-believe world.

    I think we can all learn something from this bakery vs. chipmunks making poop pie saga, mainly that my kid is weird as fuck for insisting chipmunks make poop pie when everyone knows they actually make diarrhea flan – but that’s just semantics. But the other lesson we can glean is just how vital it is for people to have a mutual understanding of their perceived reality both on the micro and macro levels.

    If you’re in a relationship with someone, living with them day in and day out, waking up with them every morning to see their face, going to bed with them every night with their breath on you – you know, the romance of being in a long-term committed relationship – then you also know how important it is that you both analyze your dynamic in a similar way. Sharing reality with someone is the only way to keep things functional. If you and I were together and we got into a fight because I was an asshole and you were an asshole, our common understanding of our individual asshole behavior would be imperative to coming back together. I would HAVE to see how thought I was an asshole, just like you would HAVE to see how I thought you were an asshole. If we both agreed on our asshole behavior, then peace could be made. (PS that agreement would consist of you admitting that you were the asshole and how the whole fight was actually your damn fault okay? GET IT!?)
    Yet if you don’t own your part of the equation when shit goes down, you don’t share a common reality of what happened, and then things then fall apart. When you refuse to look at yourself or be honest about how your actions impact others, then it’s easy to justify whatever behavior you want. You can become indignant and stuck in a paradigm of feeling superior. Yet part of being in a relationship with someone is learning how to understand the effect of your behavior on the other person. You have to be able to admit fault and come to a collective agreement of what happened. That is how we get closure. We have to mostly agree on our understanding of what happened. Of course we will always hold onto our subjective twists, yet the majority of the story needs to be consistent in order to feel emotionally connected.

    The best relationships are the ones where the couple is on the same page when it comes to dissecting their lives together. If you were to separate them and ask them to deconstruct their relationship, their fights, their faults, their main issues, what works and what doesn’t – they would mostly say the same things. When you share the story of your relationship then real communication is happening. When relationships have authentic communication, then it’s more possible to develop deeper intimacy. A major aspect of trusting each other is trusting that you both see things in a similar way. In order for that to be truly achieved, both parties have to be open to candid self-reflection. The more honest we are with ourselves about our motivations, insecurities, and shadow sides, the more honest we can be with our partners.

    We all can behave in ways that suck, or allow the worst of ourselves to sometimes take over – that’s to be expected. Yet when you own up to those parts of you, and those patterns, then it’s more possible to work through them in a real way. In order for that to be accomplished, you and your partner have to set aside your egos and replace the need to be right with the desire to understand each other.

    In the macro sense our shared reality is dwindling by the second, which is why Trump, partisan politics, and the idea of “fake news” is so fundamental. It kind of enrages me that Trump has taken over the concept of “fake news” because that used to be a hyper-progressive lefty thing. When I was in my 20’s I was always talking about fake news too – but what I meant by it was the corporate controlled media that had a vested interest in censoring information to protect their economic agenda. I would go on and on about Diebold and the voting machines being rigged in Florida so Jeb Bush could hand the presidency over to his brother. At that point the Internet was just starting to question official stories like 9/11, and I was ripe to eat up all the information about the lizard elite and their secret societies. Yeah fine, maybe I was off the deep end a bit and a little too open to aliens being the answer to all I didn’t understand, but I also think there was validity to questioning the “official stories” the government was telling me.

    Then the Internet became flooded with information, and as a result there now is an oversaturation of conspiracy. The real conspiracy is that there are now too many conspiracies to keep track of. Maybe that was an intentional move by the “New World Order” to keep us confused? Rather than denying “alternative information” that wasn’t controlled by the corporate media, they decided to allow all of it in order to dilute the brand.

    There are now so many versions of alternative truths that it is impossible to decipher what was what. No matter what you think, you can prove your hypothesis on the Internet. You want to think vaccines are harmless? Well, there is plenty of information that will support that thinking. You want to think vaccines will cause your child to become a mutant and grow scales? You can find that too. No matter what you want to believe, you can reinforce your beliefs with the “facts” on the Internet.

    Then we have Donny Trump yelling about “fake news” which only furthers us from having a collective reality as a society. Yeah maybe it was just as dangerous when everyone thought the New York Times was the Bible, but at least there was a communal story we were all buying into. There was unity in that, even if it was also delusional. The fantasy world we as adults buy into isn’t that much different than the imaginary world Munch and her friend were creating – they both rely on story to keep everything together. But now that there are so many potential narratives to believe, we’re all psychically being ripped at the seams.

    For thousands of years humans have used stories to organize themselves – the two most effective being the stories of religion and the story of money having actual value. Money isn’t real, but a collective fantasy we all agree to, just like religion. These are the fairy tails that have kept humans structured for millennia. It may be scary to think how much make believe stories are the scaffolding we’ve built our entire society around, but it’s true.

    Yet currently in modern America we no longer have a collective story that we’re all connecting to. Maybe that why the “Make America Great Again” slogan was so appealing to so many? Perhaps part of the nostalgia we cling to is how everyone was way more conformist in the past and bought into the story of the American identity? Yeah they were fucked up racist, sexist, homophobic stories designed to make us consumerist drones, but most people told them to themselves and their children. It was the American sexist, racist, homophobic story, until then those damn hippies started unraveling everything, encouraging people to think for themselves and question the narrative that women belonged in the kitchen, people of color belonged in segregated ghettos, and homosexuals belonged in hell.

    I embrace the rewriting of these stories because the past wrote a fucked up plot that I don’t want to be part of, but what are the new stories we’re writing? Some of the stories people are telling themselves today make me question if we’re even the same species. I don’t share reality with the white women in Alabama that voted for Roy Moore! That’s not a bedtime story I’m telling my kid at night. I don’t even know where to begin to find a common reality with those chicks that voted into office a molester? Yet I guess that’s what we have to start figuring out. What is the most base, common reality we share with people and then start slowly building a common understanding. Maybe we both enjoy marshmallows, and we can use that to keep finding common ground, and write a collective story together where maybe, just maybe, a fucking child molester shouldn’t be considered a candidate for senator.

    (Ps if you’re wondering where these delightful/disturbing images are coming from, follow my on Instagram to see my interpretive dance where Trump uses the language of my body to express his heartache after the Roy Moore loss. Toni Nagy)

  • Lessons From A Love Triangle

    Women tell each other everything. Donald Trump’s locker room doesn’t have shit compared to the average relationship between two women. If you’re in a relationship with a women, you can bet your sweet ass that every single one of her close friends could pick out your dick in a police line up it’s been described to her in such precise detail. Her friends know if you’re munching on muff, and that you like taint tickled in the morning. I highly suggest you never look those ladies in the eyes again.

    Women tend to have incredibly personal, intimate relationships with each other. They’re comfortable sharing their feelings, admitting vulnerabilities, and discussing the minutia of their lives. I’ve no joke had a friend send me a pic of her puss once, asking if a mysterious bump looked normal. Female friendships often border on therapy sessions, and definitely tow the doctor patient confidentiality line considering how much we reveal to each other.

    Men however, are mostly more reserved in their relationships with other men. Where women tend to talk about themselves in their conversations, men talk more about subjects. If you were a fly on the wall listening to a bunch of chicks chatting, chances are you would here a lot about love, relationships, family, and other more personal themes. And definitely a lot about periods. Yet a gaggle of guys would discuss more abstract subjects – sports, cars, politics, current events, etc… It’s not because men don’t care about their personal lives, or women are uninterested in social issues, this is more a reflection of different cultures of communication. I’ve had many deep philosophical inquiries about societal matters with my lady friends, but those talks are not as common. Just as I am sure there are moments where a dude will open up to a friend about some problem he’s having, but that’s also a more rare occurrence.

    Because of this, most hetero men don’t get into deep personal confessions with each other, and only have women to expose themselves to. This creates a dynamic where women see the weakest part of a man, and are the only ones he will reveal that part of himself to. The role of women is then defined by picking up the emotional fragments of not only each other, but also the men in their lives. Their romantic connection becomes burdened by the reality that she’s the only person he ever opens up to. He doesn’t turn to others to get advice about their relationship, or learn how to better behave – and only has her to process his feelings with. That’s a lot to ask, especially because you then expect her to blow you like a Nintendo cartridge circa 1989.

    I think this way of being is doing a major disservice to all genders! We need to shake shit up!

    Wouldn’t we all be happier if these ratios changed around a bit? Although I am genuinely interested in the relationship plights of my friends, I think women need more opportunities to talk out some of their shit out with dudes. We need more cross gender friendships, and for men to take on emotionally driven conversations. That way my girl can get some insider trading information about the male species – and I can get a break from hearing about how Carl is a douche nozzle so she and I can spend our energy discussing the Federal Reserve instead.

    I also think male relationships would benefit if they relied on each other more emotionally. It’s said the men are some of the loneliest people because they lack genuine feelings of closeness to others. Masculinity doesn’t encourage revealing the underbelly of your emotional self, and hiding that part of you can make you feel isolated and alienated. We need to teach our men and boys to gossip like the girls of the WB.

    Girls are conditioned from a young age to know how to deal with issues around relationships, and intimacy. Most media targeted to girls have subplots of love. Almost every cartoon The Munch watches has talk of boyfriends, or the characters having crushes. This pony likes that pony and wants to marry him, or this monster thinks that monster is a cutie-pie (despite the fact his body is covered in scales). Young boys, however, don’t often talk about these things with each other, and media they consume isn’t pushing these concepts down their throats. There is no ménage à trois in Transformers. Because girls are exposed to relationship drama, they start to develop an understanding of the importance around it, where with boys they lack the language to start the conversation because it’s not in their lexicon.

    I was playing with Munch the other day and I couldn’t believe her emotional intelligence when it comes to matters of the heart. She’s like the ultimate wing woman. As can be seen in the below drama that was created with the Little Mermaid dolls.

    Munch: Okay Mama. You will be human Ariel, and I will be mermaid Ariel.
    Toni: But aren’t they the same person, just different time periods?
    Munch: Ummm they are just different people now.
    Toni: But both named Ariel?
    Munch: Right. Human Ariel and Mermaid Ariel.
    Toni: Got it.
    Munch: And Human Ariel is in love with Eric. You act Eric too. But you have to make them really in love, and I better believe it.

    BETTER BELIEVE IT! Okay… so my plan was to fuck with Munch a bit, and let her know what it’s actually like when your friend is in love.

    Munch: Hey Human Ariel, you wanna play?
    Toni: No I can’t. I’m in love with Eric, so I just want to spend time with him. I don’t really have time for you right now.
    Munch: Oh. That’s okay. I totally understand.

    WHAT??? That was her reaction?? To totally understand!!?

    Munch: Hey Human Ariel, I made this new friend, her name is Barbie. Do you want to meet her?
    Toni: No Mermaid Ariel. Like I said, I’m in love with Eric so I really don’t have time for you right now, or meeting new friends. I just want to spend time with him.
    Munch. That’s okay. That happens when you’re in love. Just let me know when you’re done and ready to play.

    I WAS LIKE HOLY SHIT! THIS KID REALLY KNOWS HOW TO BE A GOOD FRIEND.

    Toni: Okay Mermaid Ariel. I’m bored of Eric now. I’ll meet your friend.
    Munch: Hi. I’m Barbie. Sometimes I get bored of Ken too. It happens. Shall we go an adventure?

    Okay… it’s official that Munch is ready to be an awesome friend when she grows up.

    April 5, 2017 • emotions, Musings, Relationships, Sex Stuff, Vagina Stuff • Views: 1153

  • Scratching That Itch Doesn’t Make it Go Away – it Just Moves it

    We’ve all had those moments where you ask someone to scratch your back, and some willing, but slightly irritated victim obeys. No one wants to scratch someone else’s back because as a rational person you know what you’re in for – a journey into the impossibility of satiating an itch. Seconds after the skin scraping ritual begins, the itch moves. “A little to the left,” you say. Once again, it moves. “Now back to the right,” you instruct as their nails skid across your human casing. “Now up… down… over… to the left… no to the right I said… back down again… up… more up… up some more… and…”

    An itch isn’t meant to be relieved; it is designed to torture you with craving. We fool ourselves into thinking that digging your claws into the right spot will make it go away. We forget the unavoidable truth that the very nature of yearning is rooted in the harsh reality that even when you get what you want, it isn’t what you want any more. Our collective story is fraught with examples of this. I want that man, but now that I have him, he bores me. I think that those drugs would feel divine, yet now I am puking into my shirt. I need that job – huh, boy this job is stressful. I need a vacation, and now I need a vacation from my vacation. I’ll go on this dating app to have meaningless sexual encounters, yet at the same time look for a relationship. Even though we can often see the hamster wheel of another person’s life, we put ourselves through the same cycle over and over and over again, running into the oblivion of our ravenousness.

    I think it’s that exactly feeling that our smarty pants phones tap into. This need for an instant hit of something outside of ourselves to distract our minds from the pain of our thoughts. For most of us, our brains have a mind of their own, and we are thinking about things we don’t want to think about, yet can’t stop thinking about. So we want, and want, and want some more. We want more love, more sex, more drugs, more success, more entertainment, more food, more sugar, more adoration, more acknowledgement, more appreciation, more money, more security, more freedom, more stuff… and then we want it all over again, just a better version.

    This constant striving may be the catalyst of the vast majority of our emotional suffering, yet it’s also the drive that pushes towards progress – and maybe even our own survival. The curiosity of humans, this ceaseless thirst that we cannot quench, is unique to our kind. Back in pre-history when Neanderthals reached the shores of an ocean do you know they did? They turned the fuck around because there was a goddamn giant scary body of water in front of them, and they couldn’t see the other side. Do you know what Homo sapiens did? They built a raft to float out into the unknown and see what was beyond the horizon. When the Neanderthals reached a mountain range they would camp at the bottom, but Homo sapiens, even the straight ones, would climb to the other side. Neanderthals lacked the seemingly crucial social construction of craving for more, where we Homo sapiens succumbed to it. And who the are the ones that are extinct now!?

    Even though our wanting is part of our demise, it’s also part of our successes as a species. So how do we as individuals have a more reasonable relationship to the seduction of desire? Is there a way to find balance amidst the chaos of greed?

    If there is anything that being a parent has taught me it’s that looking for someone else’s socks can make you suicidal. The other thing I learned is that children have a much greater capacity than adults to deal with disappointment. It may not seem that way at first. If I tell my kid “No you can’t watch Monster High while eating your leftover chemically ridden Valentine’s candy before bed,” she might scream for a moment in protest. This is where depending on my emotional capacity; I may give in just so she shuts the fuck up. But if I stay strong and deal with her momentary rebellion, she will forget about it, and move on. She doesn’t hold it against me. It’s not like The Munch will even bring it up again like, “remember that time you didn’t let me have that 3rd cookie?” No. She never says that shit. She just keeps living her life, not holding onto the past of her unfulfilled desires.

    Wanting shit is not the problem. It’s how we deal with not getting what we want is.

    The reason why kids move through their feelings with greater ease and grace is because they fundamentally think differently than adults. There is more space between their thoughts, because their egos aren’t as developed. The adult mind is dealing with CONSTANT chatter from the ego. Even right now as you read this very post your ego is still talking to you, judging what I say. Yet with kids, their egos aren’t as loquacious, leaving more room in their minds for observation and imagination.

    The more the mind is engaged with observing the world around us, the less energy is spent judging it. The more the brain is bouncing around creative concepts, the less it’s criticizing. So the solution to our all our problems is right in front of us. Think less by training your mind to observe, and through that you will find the wisdom of contentment in where you are in the moment – knowing it’s all a process and you’ll never truly be satisfied anyway.

    I think The Munch has tapped into this angst of mankind, and as such told me this glorious nighttime story.

    Munch: “Once upon a time there was a toilet, and this toilet was very sad. It was a sad toilet because no one was peeing in it, so it couldn’t drink pee, and no one was pooping in it, so it couldn’t eat poop. And that is the story of the sad toilet.”

    Am I raising a genius or what?

  • Not Playing the Game is the New Game

    How much do you censor yourself on a daily basis? Do you ever find yourself in situations where you want to say one thing, but instead say another in fear of how you will be perceived? How defined is your personality by the expectations of others? Do you feel like your true self has to be tamed or contained in order to protect your feelings and spare yourself from rejection?

    What would happen if everything you wanted to express, you actually did?

    As socialized humans most of us have it ingrained in us that we think before we share, and consider the emotional reaction of others when deciding how to behave. When people shun these rules, or challenge them, they are often out-casted. Yet what do you think are the cultural norms that serve us in our humanity, and what are the ones that keep us from it?

    The other day I was meeting a friend for lunch at the Green Grocer, and decided to do a bit of grocery shopping before hand. As I was loading up my bok choy and bone broth at the register, I suddenly had the feeling that I may have just shit my pants. As you can assume, this is an alarming sensation mixed with a fair amount of anxiety. At that exact moment my friend entered into the store, and started talking to me. Now, it’s kind of hard to be yourself when you’re questioning whether or not there is shit in your pants. So I did what any normal person would do… leaned over and said, “I may or may not have just shit my pants, and kind of need to investigate before I can be fully present.”

    Look… I get it that discussing sharting is not typically grocery line conversation. Yet at the same time, how frustrating is it to talk to someone who isn’t really paying attention and doing weird gestures with the bottom half of their body? Wouldn’t you rather know the truth of your company dealing with a potential bodily crisis rather than thinking you’re boring them as they stare off into the distance with an expression of deep questioning and angst?

    Lucky for me, there was no shit in my pants and I could continue with lunch unfazed by such an inconvenience. However this delightful experience did get me thinking about all the things that we hide from each other that actually might be important to know.

    Like most people, I exist in a quantum mass of contradiction. It’s not like I don’t care what people feel about me, because I do… I just don’t care what people think about me. Does this make sense? I think this comes from the two influences of my parents. My dad is like a social ambassador to the UN. He’s incredibly polite, he can talk to anyone, and he has the uncanny ability to charm even the vilest people. Where my mom will go into a store and ask the sales lady if the leggings she’s trying on is giving her a camel toe. THIS IS WHERE I COME FROM GUYS!

    I am a peacemaker. I care deeply about the emotional well being of others, but if within that context, you also happen to think I’m totally out of my mind, I’m okay with that. I feel like everyone has a mental illness they’re covering up, and the best thing we can do for each other is pull back the veil.

    Yet I also have to acknowledge that the way I deal with people has been fundamentally different from the way I’ve dealt with the opposite sex. When I was in high school my view of men was that all boys use girls. I decided that I was NOT going to be the sucker, or get used by some fucktard dude, and my solution was to cheat on EVERYONE I dated. I figured if I used guys the way they used girls, I wouldn’t feel used. So I always had multiple boyfriends, and lied to everyone. It all culminated when I was 18-years old and ran the Boston Marathon. When I got to the finish line I saw my boyfriend that went to my school, the boy I was cheating on with my boyfriend, another boy who I was having a long-term emotional affair with, my out of school boyfriend, and finally another boy I was leading on. So after running 26 miles and seeing these five boys do you know what I did? I KEPT RUNNING!!! I tried to run home… but everyone stopped me. And would you like to know the consequences of my actions? A LOT OF PEOPLE GOT HURT!

    But I least I didn’t get used right??

    The problem with modern romance is that the culture has become such where people are embarrassed for having feelings, and are ashamed for feeling love. The cool thing to do is show that you have no emotions, and how you’re just so damn cool about everything that whatever goes, and nothing matters, and who cares because Tinder.

    It’s as if the protecting our egos has become more important than sharing our hearts.

    No way I’m I gonna be the one admitting the fragility of ventricles. I’m gonna act like my aorta doesn’t need you because the humiliation of admitting that you got into my right atrium is too much to bare. You guys… I did really good in 8th grade biology can you tell?

    Men seem to think that all women want are relationships, so they act all frosty to show they aren’t ready for any serious commitment. Women know that men are paranoid about them wanting relationships, so they act all blasé to prove you’re not the kind or girl who’s desperate for commitment. Then it becomes this game of pretending like neither of you give a shit, when really, if you don’t give a shit about the person you’re fucking, chances are the sex is shit.

    You can’t enter into relationships feeling guarded, because if you do, you are avoiding the intimacy of who you both really are. There is so much fear around “what is this going to turn into,” or “am I going to get hurt by another person’s indifference,” that people so often self censor or become hyper-calculated.

    When I was in my 20’s I got bored of playing the game. So then my new strategy became to tell the guy I liked everything that’s wrong with me right in the beginning. I’d be like, “hey, I’m mostly lovely but I’m never wrong, I will emotionally eviscerate you in an argument and point out every flaw you’ve ever had, and I will totally lie to you to avoid conflict or get what I want.” EASY RIGHT!

    Technically that’s not how the game is played, but I would argue that NOT playing the game is the new game! How refreshing is radical honesty in this photo-shopped auto-tuned world? How sexy is vulnerability when everyone is treating each other like robots from West World? We are not disposable, and we shouldn’t treat each other as such just because you can swipe right again tomorrow.

    Much like how my friend probably didn’t think she wanted to know about my potentially poopy pants, it was BETTER for her that she did because then she didn’t take my feces inspired pre-occupation personally. The more open we are about what we are dealing with emotionally, the better friends we can be to each other.

    Me at 13 plotting the destruction of the future boys in my life…

    February 22, 2017 • emotions, Musings, Old School Stories, Pee & Poop, Sex Stuff • Views: 1422