Life is not a John Hughes movie. As much as I’ve wanted the cute guy to ask me to prom like in Sixteen Candles or find unlikely romance with a rebel like in The Breakfast Club, that stuff doesn’t always happen off screen. In fact, real life is often way, way messier. But without all the heartache I’ve had in the past, I would not be able to appreciate the good and budding relationship I’ve (rather accidentally) found just recently. And you know what else? I have learned it is utterly impossible to describe with any single answer what makes a relationship the right one for you. So I’ve decided to do the impossible using yarn and thread metaphors.
Now, I admit—I may be learning on a relatively slower relationship bell curve, but the good news is that spins me chock full of advice to impart to you, dear collegiettes. Years of trial and error have given me what I call “The Sight,—” to con a Star Wars-esque power—something I have gained from years of watching my friends go through relationship roller coasters and from riding some of my own. The Sight lets me see people for who they really are and understand what they really need. What makes a perfect John Hughes moment is not the same for everyone. We can’t all make sweaters from the same yarn stock after all.
But, there are a few relationship yarns that apply to the general commons. Here’s what I’ve seen & heard & learned, given to you in bullet form, you lovely collegiettes.
Be Hercules: go for the golden fleece. It’s worth it to wait. Honestly and truly. Wait for the golden thread. Or the silver, the hot pink, the bedazzled, the glow-in-the-dark, or whichever colored thread that is going to make you feel warm, secure, and happy to have with you—just like your favorite sweater. I waited until I was 19 before getting my first kiss—and even then, that kiss was for a play I was in! It’s not like I had never dated anyone, but I just kept dating the neo-maxi dweebies who either wanted me to change or didn’t like that I was so inexperienced. So, as hard as it was to be left unattached to a special someone during those rugged years we call high school—as hard as it was to go to dances sans un Romeo or watch other girls have guys carry their books to class for them—I am glad I cut my ties with anyone who didn’t like me as I was. And, hell yes, I am glad I waited to give my first kiss to someone who at least appreciated my theater talent.
Don’t have a high-strung heart. Find the courage to date. Just because I recommend you wait before giving your heart away to just anyone doesn’t mean you shouldn’t put yourself in the dating arena and give love a chance. Goodness knows I’ve been scared to put myself out there. Especially when each new disastrous/failed/crazy relationship dents the edges of my heart after panning out. You name it—suitor turns out to be gay, suitor is in love with ex, suitor wants you to sneak out of his apartment and keep your ‘relationship’ a secret, suitor is obsessed with your sister, suitor thinks you could use some improvement, suitor dates you so you will do his homework—it’s happened to me. But, all you can do is pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and find the courage to get back out there. The right one will come along; I promise.
No strings attached only leaves you naked and exposed.Literally. Without any strings to tie two people together in a relationship (or without any to cover yourself with) someone is going to get their heart broken. Mila Kunis included. Unless you are an automaton capable of stripping all the emotion from yourself—but if that’s the case, you would have to be a robot. And robots don’t want to get their hanky-panky on. Even emotion-repressing Vulcans are capable of getting attached to someone. It just never works for a sustained amount of time. Be careful.
Come unraveled every once in a while. Ever since high school I’ve been a tough nut to crack. The only way I’ve survived my list of problems is by shouldering my pack, putting on a cheery face, and not opening up about them to anyone ever at any time. I thought that’s what everyone did. But then I met someone who told me it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to let someone see you vulnerable. Weird concept, I know. But you’ll never know until you try.
Don’t ignore Jiminy Cricket. Let your conscience be the cord holding you onto life. If a little voice whispers into your ear, don’t ignore that voice until it is screaming for your attention. By that time, it’s usually too late to prevent some major damage. For me, the singsong voice hovering by my ear has helped me escape from some bad dating experiences relatively unscathed. (My conscious has the voice of a Legend of Zelda fairy—always saying “Hey! Hey! It’s dangerous to go alone. Take me.”) Last time I heard the flying fairy, it told me I wasn’t comfortable getting physical with a guy who only wanted me as a make-out partner to pass his Friday evenings. No thanks.
Never, ever, ever let a guy tell you that you aren’t good enough.Or that you have to change. Screw him! I mean, don’t do that actually. Tell him to take a hike! That’s all I have to say about that. I won’t even honor this with a thread metaphor.
And finally, realize that you are worth something. You are perfect as you, and you will find a complementary thread soon enough.You deserve a guy who will walk with you in the rain, a guy who will give you his jacket and pay for dinner every once in a while, a guy who will bring you tea if you have a headache—one who can make you laugh no matter what but who isn’t afraid to talk about the tough things too. One who will like you for you. I think I may have found a guy like that. And he makes the past dating horrors just…. sort of melt away, actually. I know you can find one too, collegiettes. I believe that with everything I have.
Photo credits:
#1 http://favim.com/orig/201108/14/couple-cute-forest-kiss-kissing-Favim.com-122821.jpg
#2 http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fxPfm-bS24M/TBRB-oYGhNI/AAAAAAAACLA/29DZZJ_WVpw/s1600/purple+thread.jpg
#3http://files.myopera.com/coolmaks/albums/4768822/cute,kiss,kissing,little,boy,little,girl,couple-30be52ff8124c632dab2ecf4f6cc8e7f_h.jpg