Moving On

I'm sure that through reading my posts, you most likely assume that I am not much more than a dramatic, slightly angst-y, sappy, naive, complaining teenage girl who is stuck with her head in the clouds and needs to be brought down to reality. Well, you might be right. I'm ok with that, though. It's who I am and I don't want to change. I don't want to lose sight of the fairytale I've always dreamed of for myself.

Now you're probably wondering where I'm going with this. Well, after my last break up, I was sort of bitter. Well, bitter compared to my past self. I have spent a lot of time alone. I was uncharacteristically uninterested in curling up on the couch and watching a romcom or drinking a cup of tea with a romance novel. I scoffed at other's relationships, acting very differently from my previous disposition towards other people in love.

Recently, like it always does, time has fully healed me. I am back to my love song singing, fairytale reading, romantic drama watching self. I don't pray for rain so that the sky looks as dark as I feel, but instead, I relish the sunshine. I love hearing about other's romantic ventures again. I even find myself excited by them. I'm no longer jealous of what others have in a partner because I have found true happiness in singularity.

This is not to say that I am completely finished dating and strive to stay single, but I'm no longer searching for someone to fill that hole in my heart. It is filled. If I find myself in a relationship, that is fantastic. If I don't, then I know I'll have the time of my life still.

I knew for sure that I was no longer heart broken when I ran into my ex today. I felt nothing. I did not have a longing to get back together with him. I did not miss him. I did not hate him. I was indifferent. I felt nothing. I still don't want to be friends with him, but I also don't hold out a death with in his name, either. Granted, we didn't even speak, but I didn't feel the same pang somewhere lost between my heart and my stomach that I usually felt at the sight of him. We'll see how It goes when I have to see him every day at school in more than passing, but I am hopeful.

So, I am currently off the market. Teenage boys are stupid (mostly (; ) and I want so much out of a relationship that I have yet to hear of, much less meet, a guy who can truly make me a happy by being anything more than a friend to me. Besides, isn't dating really about searching for who you want to marry? I doubt I will be meeting him in high school. But as I have previously mentioned, if a kind young sir strikes my fancy, I am not opposed to dinner and a movie. I'm no longer afraid of being broken again and you never know where even one date might lead.

Sex-Crazed Maniacs (Written Wednesday, Aug. 1, 2012)

I know I haven’t posted in a while, but over the past two or three days staying here at the beach with my friends, I’ve had a lot on my mind. Seeing as I am one of four girls in a group totaling fifteen, I’ve spent a lot of time being “one of the guys”, which is literally how I spend seventy-eight percent of my time anyways, so this isn’t unusual in the least or even ever uncomfortable. These guys are my brothers and some of my best friends. I know them so well. Too well, sometimes.

The problem, though, lies in the fact that we are so close. I hate to admit that sometimes I wish we weren’t all so close, but when you’re a girl that is always just thought of as just another dude to hang out with, the conversation turns, eventually, in to the conversation that guys have with other guys, without even a thought. I thank my lucky stars all the time that these guys (especially Chris and Jacob) feel like they can be utterly open and honest with me because, ultimately, it allows me to feel the same way toward them. I know that they’re always there for me and if it came down to it, they would do anything for me. I would do the same for them. Sometimes I wish we, they, kept to themselves some of their more “personal” thoughts, though. I guess what I’m saying is that I know they will think and talk about these things regardless, but I wish they could be gentlemanly enough to keep that sort of thing exclusive to their guy time.

It thoroughly disturbs me when these guys I love so dearly completely objectify women, but even more so with me standing directly beside them. It always starts out like a joke. Then they start rating women. Make comments like, “I wouldn’t even hit that, drunk, with a fifty foot pole.” Then the cat calls. It’s embarrassing and they play it off when I say something. I get so tired of this boys will be boys business. I don’t care if literally sex is the only on their mind 24/7, which they claim as some sort of defense. You’d think they would have been raised to know better. I always think that the fact that they have close female friends, and some of them sisters, would make them think differently about the way they act around women, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference. I am only one of they guys, after all.

Then they start talking about girls that they would never date, but they’d hook up with in a heartbeat on a drunken night. I don’t care if these are the sluttiest girls on the face of the earth; I think they deserve more respect than that. Of course, I’m just told to quit being such a feminist when I say that. I’ll admit, I’m a feminist, but what female who believes she deserves rights and equality (which should be any voting female, right?) isn’t, on technicality at least, a feminist. I also don’t think it’s ok to joke about, talk about in a “if I (or she) was drunk enough…” way, or really discuss in any demeaning fashion the subjects of rape and/or sexual assault. Sue me. It makes me furious when they act like it’s funny. But hey, boys will be boys.

What really hit the nail on the head for me was when Jacob and I were discussing the fact that I want to be a virgin until my wedding night. He told me, “Good luck with that. You’ll fold when you get to college and realize guys like that don’t exist. No guy in his right mind is going to wait until marriage to have sex. What if he never gets married?!” I wanted to cry. I didn’t even respond to him. This is a big decision I have made in my life, and part of that for me was coming to the realization that not only do I want to stay a virgin, but I want to marry a virgin. It doesn’t mean that I will judge someone over the loss of their virginity, but in all honesty, it may be a deal breaker on whether I marry him or not. I believe deciding to stay a virgin shows a level of respect you have for yourself, your current boy/girlfriend, and your future husband/wife.

If you’re a Christian, it also is just one way to show your reverence for the sanctity of marriage that God has blessed us with. Staying a virgin doesn’t make you the best Christian in the world, but it is a step toward strengthening your relationship with Christ and with your partner. A romantic relationship should first be built on a solid foundation. If you are attracted to someone primarily because of sex, you’ll have nothing later for the relationship to thrive off of.

Anyway, I sort of freaked out after that conversation. What if Jacob has a point? What if all guys just want sex and they don’t care if a relationship is romantic, intellectual, fun, loving. They just want sex. I hate hearing guys says that they won’t date that girl; they’ll just bang her. That is yet another reason I want to keep my virginity. I don’t ever want to be someone’s booty call.

The guys like to point out that girls, even I (and I don’t deny it), point out an attractive guy, even ogle them. They say it makes me a hypocrite. Maybe it does. I don’t think about guys all the time, though. I’m not constantly talking about wanting them in my pants or even wishing they would date me. No one is perfect, and they’re a liar if they say they don’t at least look. This is also not to say that I don’t ever think about sex, because I do. It’s not the forefront of my thoughts, though.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that I am thoroughly worried that guys have lost all sense of gentlemanliness and want a solely physically satisfying relationship. I want more than that. I want someone who can love me for so much more than my body. I’m more than my 34D-sized boobs. I have a personality. I’m funny. I’m vivacious and love so many things about life. I’m smart. I’m strong willed and opinionated. I’m talented and artistic. I’m interested in music, art, theatre, literature. I want a guy that can appreciate those things. I want a guy who has things, other than a penis, for me to appreciate about him and his personality. I’m not opposed to making out, cuddling, other physical but non-sexual aspects of relationships. They’re fun too, and a vital part of a romantic relationship. I want there to more than that, though. I want the romance, the wooing (which doesn’t only have to come from the guy), the shyness, the long nights of just talking and getting to know one another, and the slow build of a relationship done the right way. Plus, if you marry someone, think about how much more special it will be to say that you saved yourself fully for him or her after your marriage. It’s the best gift you could give someone.

After my last break up, I wanted so badly to be in a relationship again. Now, every day, I want a relationship less and less. Honestly, I’m scared. I don’t want to get stuck in a relationship with a shallow, sex-craved guy who doesn’t see anything but my hips and my breasts. I don’t want to get pressured into anything. I want someone who stands just as strongly in his sexual convictions as I do, and I want someone who is respectful of me as a person and as a woman.

I also want my male friends to find respect for women. I pray for God to guide their hearts into a better place. All I really can do is pray at this point, and even that won’t work completely if they have their hearts totally closed off to what God is trying to do in them. I get tired of feeling like I’m hanging out with a bunch of sex-crazed maniacs. I know they can be better, and that’s what I want for them. I just hope that one day they find a woman who will change the way they see themselves and the way they see women. Our whole generation needs a wake up call. We need to learn to respect ourselves and, most importantly, those whom we find ourselves attracted to. Otherwise, we’ll be in more trouble than we can even imagine right now.

Who's Going to Save Me?

As I sit and watch Captain America, I can't help but fantasize about a strong man to watch out for me. My knight in shining armor, one might say.
Now don't get me wrong, I am just as fired up and passionate as anyone when it comes to women's right and the fact that we women are strong and "don't need no man" to save us, as if we are dainty little princesses. I don't feel that I NEED a man to complete me in any form or fashion. But I'm not going to lie. One day, I hope to have a man who will save me from my various demons, despite my desire for heroinism and fight to be a strong, independent woman.
Even the strongest of feminists can't convince me that they have NEVER dreamed of being awakened from their slumber with true love's kiss, protected from the fire the dragon is breathing their way, or just held at night after a grueling day as they cry from their many stressors in life.
At the moment, I am single and loving this life without strings. I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I do, though, dream of a future, whether near or far, that involves a guy who will protect me even when I don't want him to. That's love. But see, I also have no problem defending my man. This is the 21st century and sometimes for a relationship to work, you have to save each other.
So, I see Capt. America defeat the Nazis, I know that one day, I want my own super hero. But let's face it, even the best super heroes couldn't make it without their leading ladies: Spider Man would be nothing without Mary Jane. Without Lois Lane, Super Man would have no desire to fight. Captain America would surely have been less effective in the war without the aid of Peggy.
So, who's gonna save me?

Backpedaling through history

I hate those surreal moments when you realize your friends aren't quite who you thought they were. If I ever had a complaint about living in the South, it would be the amount of racism that is, upsettingly, still alive.

There is nothing more offensive to me, a white, middle class American citizen, than someone who is prejudice to other people. I'm not going to act like I've never said anything that's out of line. I have. But, haven't we all? It is a constant battle for me every day. I find myself occasionally thinking things that are just not acceptable, but I can choose to push them away. Choose not to say them. But I have to make that choice. What bothers me is when other people, "Christian" people, like myself, who can also make this choice, choose not to.

I love my friends, but so many of them are openly racist, primarily against black people. They think it's ok for them to say, "I'm not racist. I love black people! I just hate N******." Absolutely disgusts me. We've been reading To Kill a Mockingbird (coincidentally my favorite book!) in our English class, and they have become more open about their racism. I feel like the point of the novel is being completely missed on them. They've turned it all into one big joke. They "joke" about the "N******" in the book and they say other things that are completely out of line. What upsets me most about this, is the fact that I haven't found the courage to stand up to them yet. One day, though, they will cross the line too far, and I will have to say something. I don't have a lot of black friends, but the ones I do have, I love dearly. No, I'm not black, but I take it personally when people act like this, ignorant about people. I don't understand how the progress we seemed to make throughout the past two hundred plus years of history, can be shot to hell completely with one generation. Or maybe it's not one generation. Children aren't born racist. Someone had to set that example for them. I was blessed with extremely open minded and accepting parents. I know a lot of my friends weren't. I even have friends that have been threatened by their parents for dating a black guy and friends that have to hide their rap music from their parents who call it "n****** music" without even listening to it.

Racism isn't the only issue. My friends, mostly my male friends, can be extremely mean and homophobic. I will be completely honest. I do not understand the whole religion vs. homosexuality battle. I don't believe people choose to be gay. Why would someone choose such a difficult life, that will lead them down a road of ridicule and hate from so many people? No one would. I also don't completely think God would create people to be gay if it truly is a sin. I've read the Bible. I know the passages about homosexuality. I know it says a man shall not lay with a man. I know God created Adam and Eve. I can't explain this. It's something I still need to do a lot of soul searching, praying, and studying about. Until I do understand it? I will love everyone. Why should it matter if someone is gay? It doesn't matter to me. It doesn't make me uncomfortable to be around Lesbians. I don't constantly try to figure if people are gay. Why does it matter? People are people. We all desire love. We all desire equality. I don't believe it makes me any less of a Christian to believe in equal marriage rights, because to love someone properly, you have to treat them the same as everyone else you love. I don't think God looks down on us and goes, "Wow, she supports gay marriage. She's gonna BURN!" I think God appreciates our effort to understand him and his laws laid down for us, but most of all, he appreciates our effort to love one another. After all, the two most important rules stated in the Bible are: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength" and "Love your neighbor as yourself". Your neighbor might just be gay. You can't say, "Oh, well, that doesn't apply to the gay neighbors. Just the straight, white, Christian, upper-middle class neighbors who are just like me. They're easy to love." It doesn't work like that. What really gets under my skin, though, is that we are all sinners, so if being gay is a sin, they still aren't any different from the rest of us in God's eyes. God sees all sin equally, so we shouldn't judge people. You can't take other people's sins and pretend like they are worse than yours to make yourself feel better.

I hate when my friends make gay jokes. When they talk about how "gross" being gay is. I can't stand when they whisper about what guy is dating what guy. What girl kissed what girl. Why does it matter? Mind your own business, live your own life. One day, I'm going to look at my friends when they make comments like these, and ask them stop or not call themselves Christians around me anymore. I know it sounds harsh, but I hate the judgmental hypocrisy that is oh so common among today's religious people.

Before we know it, we will be in another Civil Rights movement. Well, I know what side I'll be on. When that day comes, I will be ready to march. No, I'm not black. No, I'm not gay. That doesn't mean that I think those people deserve anything less than I do. If you find yourself to be one of those closed minded people, think about it. Put yourself in someone else's shoes. Save yourself from a life in the dark, before we launch ourselves sixty years into the past.

When did we all grow up?

Today is Wednesday, and it's been almost a week since this shell shocking incident occurred. Friday night, My best friend Macey and I were helping with a benefit concert for an injured Marine at our high school. Now, if you need to know anything about Macey and me, it's that we both live beautifully sheltered lives in the sense that we cherish any childish moment we can and neither of us have experienced anything too terribly "worldly". We are, for a pair of 16 year olds, the definition of blissful innocence.

While we were working Friday, two of our classmates came in as high as kites. We knew they smoked pot, but, seeing as neither of us are often found at parties or in with the "popular crowd", we had never really been exposed to people while they were stoned. We didn't say it, but speaking for myself and her, we were scared. Both of these guys are notorious for having high douche bag status, but this put the icing on the cake. One of the guys was completely oblivious to the world, and Macey and I couldn't help but wonder if he realized that his girlfriend was out with a bunch of other guys (we were later informed by our friend Kate). The second guy was like a more disgusting, more rude version of his already pervertedly nasty self. We both scoffed as he somehow got away with humping the floor in front of everyone that was there that night, his eyes red and his voice hoarse.

As I listened to guy #1 ramble about nothing and guy #2 run aimlessly, removing his shirt as if he had turned into Superman, I realized that I had no idea what had happened to us. All of us. One day, we're drinking Kool Aid and eating cookies on the play ground, the next, we're taking shots and smoking pot as someone feels us up in their back seat. It was a terrifying realization. I am not trying to seem "holier than thou", but I luckily, can not, or could not, until Friday, speak from even an ounce of experience. I know it's awfully cliche, but I don't want to grow up. I see people I used to be close to, and now they are just a ghost of themselves. Everyone is changing, most for the worst.

I can honestly admit that I don't like either of those guys, but when they told us that they were driving themselves home, and refused any help, I couldn't stop myself from repeatedly telling them to be careful and saying a prayer, begging God to watch over them, stupid as they had been that night. I couldn't help but feel a pang of joy when I saw them both Monday morning. I know they'll do it again. I know nothing can stop them right now. I know they aren't the only people I know that participate in this terrible, life threatening behavior.

I hate when people say that weed is "harmless". It's not. It's a drug. It's scary when the same people, three years ago talked about how disgusting and stupid getting high is, are the very same people who smoke every weekend now.

This may sound naive. This may sound impossible. I don't care. I am making this statement now. I will never smoke. I will never drink underage, and I may never drink at all. I don't want to grow up if it means being a part of things like that. My life is perfect the way it is now.

Humanus artis amandis

I have recently diagnosed myself as a Humanus artis amandis, more commonly known as a Hopeless Romantic. individuals of this nature are often to be found with their nose stuck in a romance novel and a cup of half drunken coffee or tea sitting beside them getting cold as they lose themselves in the unraveling story of eros they long for. They sit alone in dark apartments with their television lending them the only light. They watch as Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks fall in love while they believe they despise each other. Audrey Hepburn evolves into the fairest lady of them all, and they feel a shiver down their spine. They hum along as Maria and Captain Von Trapp sing their way into each others' hearts. They wipe away a tear as Wesley fights for Princess Buttercup, and they go through an entire box of tissue with every letter that Holly receives from Gerry. They desire a Noah or a Jamie of their own. Someone to save them. Save them from the world. From themselves. They write poetry and play the guitar softly into the night, and the loving words they wish to share with another flow from their lips.

What's so wrong with that? you might inquire. Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong with it. These are some of the most beautiful people you will ever meet. They can teach you so much, if you let them. Indulge their fantasies every now and again. Watch a Disney movie with them. They'll remind you of the childhood you never knew you missed so much. Listen as they tell you of the four hundred page book they just finished in less then twenty four hours. Their bright, excited eyes and raging imagination will surely leave you unable to wipe the smile from your face. They enrich you and open you up with each song they sing, each story they share, each tear they shed.

So, do not mock them as they weep when you pass a dog in the rain with seemingly no home. Do not laugh when they come up with ideas that seem, to you, a realist, impractical. Do not shrug off their affections. Instead, give them more. Hold them tightly. Make them laugh, kiss them, brush away their tears. Being categorized with this lovely group of people has taught me many things, yet there is one lesson that has stuck with me more strongly than any of the others: Although these "Hopeless Romantics" are often laughing, smiling, singing, lifting everyone up around them, they can be very lonely. They, we, set standards that are unattainable by many. They long for a fairytale ending that sadly, many never receive in this cold, hard world.

What I have to say to you, the down-to-earth pragmatical mortal that has fallen for this whimsical creature, is hold on. Hold on with all the might, all the power, all the love you can possibly muster up and don't let go. For many of us, that is all we ask from you. If you choose to love us (and cause us to fall in love with you), do not leave us in the dust, like we have been left so many times before. Because we love so strongly, the hurt we feel when that love has shattered is unbearably strong as well.

If you can put in any effort at all, you can make a Romantic happy. They do not seek perfection. They want you to try. They are more excited by the smallest of sincere gestures than you will ever fathom. Listen to them rant about their strange imaginings and heartfelt yearnings. Find the most romantic compartment of your brain and put it furiously to work. Nothing you do for them will be found stupid or inadequate in their eyes. They adore you for trying and showing them how you feel. Do not be afraid to open up. Opening to them will enrich both you personally and your relationship with them in ways unimaginable.

If you find a lover with a wild imagination and an even wilder heart, strap yourself in and be prepared for a journey like no other. It will change you in ways that nothing else ever could or ever will again. Don't be afraid of letting yourself have your own fairytale. If you get lucky, the two of you may even end up riding in a horse drawn carriage in the pouring rain while "My Heart Will Go On" plays in the background. Trust me, they'd eat that one up.