I feel bad about my body a lot. I will try not to talk about it too much, but if we are together for like a year I’m probably eventually going to say something about how fat I feel.
I am not that laid-back.
Don’t get me wrong; I am easy-going about a lot of important relationship things. I don’t care what you wear when we go out or if you want to watch sports on the TV. I will even think it’s fun to root for your team. But I am not into sports — I will probably just read a magazine while the game is on, since the alternative is staring blankly at the moving figures without actually comprehending anything that is happening, like how I watch reality shows I’ve never seen before on mute at the nail salon.
So I am kind of laid-back. But I am not like, guy laid-back. I’m sensitive. I have a lot of feelings about things. I cry so much — like if we are having a fight, I will probably start crying because I cry when I am angry. I have severe depression and anxiety and I am a recovering alcoholic and addict and bulimic and I have to manage these conditions with medication and therapy and support groups. I have been raped. My childhood was not that good. I get sad sometimes. I have panic attacks. I get overwhelmed.
I am pretty sane and stable these days, but being with me is not like being with a girl with like, a really nice Dad who calls her sometimes. I am damaged goods.
I get REALLY CRAZY on my period. I won’t know why I’m really crazy, either, and I will think it is your fault and I will probably get super-mad at you about something that makes no sense. I’ll apologize in a few days when my hormones settle.
More superficially, I watch every singing show competition that comes on the television. These shows, the singing ones, make me happier than almost anything else, sorry. I like to rent romantic comedies on demand. I really do eat the ice cream right out of the tub like in one of those movies.
I own a copy of “The Rules” and I kind of believe in it.
In the beginning of a relationship, I think a lot about our text messages. I craft mine, and I dissect yours. I read them to friends. I try to wait several days to text you back sometimes, no matter how many things I want to tell you. I try not to seem too available, even when I am completely available. Eventually, I text you “k” instead of just telling you I am super freaking mad at you. I say “Everything’s fine” when it obviously isn’t.
I feel bad about my body a lot. I will try not to talk about it too much, but if we are together for like a year I’m probably eventually going to say something about how fat I feel and it will be very uncool.
I have food issues. I cannot just scarf down a cheeseburger and fries on our date and also stay reasonably thin. I may feel bad about myself after eating that meal, or I may have to go to the gym or eat just a Lean Cuisine the next day, even though one of my co-workers will invariably go “Mmmmm, that smells so good!” and I will want to punch them because “Screw this diet food.”
Alternatively, I don’t really want to eat this kale salad you suggested as an appetizer on our date. I mean, it’s fine. I’ll take a bite. But I’m not like “Oh, yes, let’s definitely get the kale salad. That sounds delish. Is it ramp season?” I don’t know what a ramp even is.
I am not equally comfortable in an evening gown as I am in a T-shirt and jeans. Can’t a bitch specialize?
I am not the girl next door. Why don’t you go over to her house if that’s what you’re into? She’s close.
I don’t wear sensible shoes. I will probably want to take a cab from one destination to the next instead of that romantic stroll you suggested, because my feet hurt. I am not a “natural beauty.” I don’t care if you think that I don’t “need” all this make-up. I don’t need pizza either, but I eat it a lot, because I like it.
My lipstick is going to get on your face when we make out.
I don’t want to talk about pooping and farting. I mean, if couples are together for a real long time, eventually they will fart in front of each other and talk about poop. But I’m not one of those women who finds farting lol hilarious. I definitely do not like to talk about my own farts, as my number one priority in life is being at all times sexually appealing, which I cannot reconcile with passing gas.
If we run into a girl you used to have sex with out at the bar and when I go to the bathroom, she shows you her vibrating tongue stud, I do not think that is totally fine. I might want to have a threesome sometime, but probably not as much as you do. I am not always in the mood to give you blowjobs because I just loooooove them so much. I am sometimes just tired and I don’t want to do anything at all, although it’s OK with me if you just kind of do your thing next to me in bed.
When you are out having dinner with your ex-girlfriend, I am wondering if you are having sex with her. If you are out on the town with the guys, I am wondering if you are drunk and talking to a cute girl and maybe touching her shoulder a little too much and possibly later having sex with her. If you are out of town on a business trip and staying in a hotel room…well, you get the idea.
I don’t drink beer, or anything else alcoholic for that matter. Additionally, I really need there to be soda anywhere where we are or I will get legitimately a little weepy. I need to eat on a regular basis or I get exceptionally cranky.
I haven’t played a video game since college. I haven’t seen “Star Wars.” I’m not really interested in changing that. I don’t want to ride a bike or go on a run with you. I don’t like to sweat on dates in general. I like to look pretty and smell good and sit down on dates mostly. And not walk too much, because like I said before, my feet hurt.
I don’t really care where we eat tonight. I know you just want me to make a choice, but seriously, whatever you want is “Fine.” Oh, and I don’t cook anything. Don’t want to learn how. Cooking sucks.
Cool girls never get angry and set boundaries. I don’t always, either. I still want to flip the channel really fast if you walk in when I am watching “Sex and the City.” I still want to deflect if you ask me what I am reading and it’s something with a pink cover. I sometimes still say things like, “I don’t mind if you have sex with other people,” because I am scared you are going to anyway and I’d rather just know about it from the get-go.
But I guess that’s why I’m writing this piece. Because being the cool girlfriend? Really doesn’t feel that cool.
Written by Emily