If someone suggested that you were holding out for a relationship to save you and magically solve all your problems, you’d adamantly insist they’d gotten you all wrong and briefly consider slapping them in the face, right? Expecting a guy to save you sounds ludicrous on a surface level, and even reminiscent of the dreaded d-word (gasp, desperate) that’s so frequently used to knock women down a peg. The problem with the save-me complex, though, is that it isn’t usually so straightforward. Often, it lives in a more deep-rooted, unnoticeable part of the heart, inflicting men and women alike, silently motivating our choices without us even realizing. If it were an easy thing to detect, we’d nix it from the start, but instead, that sneaky idea has sabotaged almost everyone’s love life at one point or another. Keep reading »
Tinder is a battlefield. Swipe left or swipe right, and within seconds you can find yourself connected to your crush of the week, or a “nightmare dressed like a daydream.” Or worse. A ghost, aka matches that never message you first. It’s a Tinder epidemic, since guys do essentially swipe right “at everything,” it could take hours, days, months for Mike, 27 to shoot you a “hey” or “sup,” (tragic, I know).
As a hopeless romantic, I decided to make the first move, with a little help from fellow hopeless romantic, Taylor Swift. By making the first move, I mean only quoting lyrics from her 1989 album. Every single track, one match at a time. Read more on Tres Sugar…
Men check out my dog more than me. I only wish I were kidding.
I’ve gotten used to catching unexpected smiles creep onto strangers’ faces while gazing at Henny (why yes, she does look like a bear cub). But after one of our daily walks last month, during which I passed four men in their 30s and noticed, with sinking resignation, that THEY ALL BEAMED ADORINGLY AT MY DOG WITHOUT EVEN A CURSORY GLANCE AT ME, I realized: something is changing. I’m changing. Keep reading »
I’m 28, and have never have a boyfriend, and I do not find attraction in other people. I won’t say that I *can’t* find attraction in people, because there have been a handful of guys that I’ve fallen head-over-heels for, but of course, those endeavors have never amounted to anything. I get crushes maybe once every three years. Even though I date regularly, it is very rare for me to have “butterflies.” I don’t think of myself has having a wall up, or being too picky, or being “unworthy of love” or any of that. It doesn’t matter how “perfect” the guy is; we’ll date, and we’ll get along great, and I’ll like hanging out with him, but when he goes in for a kiss, I just can’t bring myself to kiss him because I just *don’t want to.* I see all of my friends having relationship after relationship, and finding genuine attraction in the people they date all the time, and here I am unable to feel the slightest attraction toward anyone. Is this weird, or am I just overthinking it? And yes, I’ve explored the possibility that I might be gay, in case that matters. No luck there, either.
It’s hard to give you my opinion because there’s so much I don’t know about you. Do you live in a city, where you see lots of new people all the time? Or do you live in the suburbs where you never meet anyone new? Have you lived in the same place for a long time? Or do you constantly travel? Keep reading »
“So what’s the deal with that dude you’ve been seeing?” my friend asked, chowing down on a massive pile of chocolate pancakes and scrambled eggs. “You guys still good?”
I hadn’t seen Darius in a couple of years, but it was like no time had passed at all. We’ll usually talk on the phone weekly for awhile, and then go several weeks or even months passing without contact, but then when we do reconnect, we always pick up right where we left off. I’d last spoken to Darius just before Baby Face and I decided to stop dating, so he was in the dark about our decision to cut things off and Baby Face’s financial troubles, which I kept mostly private. Since we were both home visiting our families during the Thanksgiving holiday, we thought a hangover/catch-up breakfast was in order.
“Ehh, it’s kind of a long story,” I told him, trying to avoid discussing my current state of affairs with Baby Face. I pushed around the eggs on my plate. Keep reading »
We both knew we needed to have a talk, but neither of us were saying anything. Over the past couple of weeks, ever since Baby Face and I agreed to slow down our relationship, I’ve done a lot of thinking. My feelings for Baby Face hadn’t faltered one bit and our communication had actually become more frequent, but we’d gone almost two weeks without seeing each other and I didn’t like it. He didn’t either. Most of our recent conversations had been sprinkled with comments or mentions of his money woes, and how he wishes he could just “go to happy hour without feeling guilty” or wake up just one morning without thinking about paying bills, and as much as I didn’t want to face the music, I knew deep down that our decision to “pump the brakes” wasn’t going to change the fact that our relationship was running on fumes. Keep reading »