Anonymous asked: Please crash this pity party. I turn 25 in 3 months. Freaking out. Nowhere near where I want to be in life and don't even wanna celebrate cause I feel ashamed to to draw attention to my age when it also flags how little I've accomplished.
You’re not freaking out, you’re being a coward.
You’re not where you want to be in life? Then do something about it. Celebrate the fact that you have a chance to, that you have passions and dreams, and that you have an Internet connection and education.
You know who else isn’t where they want to be in life? Everyone.
I have days I am grateful. Days when my bike and my cat and my friends and my family and my man and my apartment are all I could ever need. But I have days when sunshine feels like an interrogation lamp and the pressure to be something better feels like it’s melting your skin off. The higher you climb, the smaller a foot feels. So you pick up the pace, you find new mountains, you find new challenges.
But your birthday isn’t a challenge. Turning 25 isn’t a challenge. Turning 25 is a gift and you’re looking it in the mouth. You know what accomplishments take? Time, effort, ambition, and ugly, sloppy failures. They’re not built on pity and what-could-have-been’s, they are built on the sheer will to become the person you want to be, they are built on overcoming adversity and setbacks. They are built on rejected submissions and failed concepts, on rough drafts and countless revisions, they are built on early mornings and late nights. They are not built on arbitrary birthdays.
Maybe I’m being mean. Maybe it’s because I wish someone had been meaner to me. Maybe it’s because a hug and a pat on the head won’t get you anywhere. Maybe because telling you to relax is just telling you to give up. Maybe because the only one who can get you somewhere is you. Maybe because the audacious idea that you should be somewhere by 25 speaks more to your ego than your abilities, and that if you’re going to make such claims, you need to go out and prove you were right to make them in the first place.
Maybe it’s because I’m not where I want to be either, and on a Friday when the skies are ripping apart, when you can smell spring on the horizon, when life looks like it might start over, we all need someone to tell us to get out of bed and do something with our lives.
Go ahead and write the invitation to your birthday party:
Thus far I have accomplished none of the things I have wanted in life. Please, come celebrate as we put to bed my shame and self-disappointment and instead, begin to hold me accountable, for in this great 25th year, I am going to ambitiously pursue the following:
And then list everything you ever expected of yourself. Because the first thing you need to learn on the road to accomplishing your dreams is that you can’t be afraid to make a fool of yourself in the process.
2:32 pm • 28 February 2014 • 88 notes
For every Justin Bieber, there’s a Kendrick Lamar who released his breakout album in his mid-20s (which, news alert, is still young!). For every Jennifer Lawrence being stopped on vacation in New York as a teen, there’s a Kerry Washington who didn’t nail her career-making role on Scandal until age 35. And for every prodigy you stumble across on the internet, there are thousands of later-bloomers whose big breaks just haven’t come yet.
The trouble is, giving up now means your big break can’t come. So your acoustic cover of “Drunk in Love” only got 200 views…so what? Don’t get discouraged simply because something you loved doing didn’t score you a record deal on the first shot. When your quirky Tumblr isn’t featured on BuzzFeed within the week, remember that fires that burn too quickly have a way of flaming out. Let yourself breathe and slowly but surely build something great. The real key to success is time.
3:16 pm • 6 February 2014 • 347 notes
on dating and on love
I have had the unique pleasure to work with CollegeCandy answering questions about love, jobs, boys, girls, texting, cheating, loving and lying every week for over a year now, but the time has come to wrap up this chapter and start answering some lingering questions for myself. Below is my final Dear DBN for CollegeCandy, a compilation of the best advice I’d ever given… or received. I hope you enjoy!
The first few months should be easy. How many romantic stories ever started with, “He dumped me three times before proposing! I cried to my girlfriends all the time!” Please note that this is different from, “I ignored him for the first three months.” It should be easy when you are dating.
Everybody is somebody’s ex. We’ve all dated other people. We don’t need to talk about it.
Do not spend all day texting/G-chatting. My best friend and I g-chat every day, and when she goes on vacation, I just about lose my mind wanting to talk to her. Let your lover feel that way, too. Let them fantasize about having you in their arms, about wrapping you up and kissing you when they see you, instead of listening to you complain all day about how the girl next to you won’t stop smacking on her gum. I spend all day IMing with my best friends because I spend all night not talking to them. People either get day or they get evening because everyone gets tired of each other. Everyone.
The more you need to ask for advice about someone, the more likely it is you shouldn’t be dating them. When I met my best friend, I didn’t constantly ask other people if the things she was doing were indicative of a good best friend, or if I should call her that, or if the text she sent meant she actually wanted to hang out on Saturday. We both started calling each other “best friend” because it was obvious and good and natural. I know this is solid advice solely based on how many times I have cavalierly opted to ignore it and ended up in heartache.
Love and sex do not always pair when we want them to. Great sex does not mean you’re in love. Being in love doesn’t mean the sex will be good. Because life’s unfair.
Don’t “social media” your relationship to death. If you saw someone sexy at a party, would you follow them around and listen to every conversation and try to glean information from every inside joke and immediately follow around anyone they spoke to trying to determine their relationship status and checking who that person spoke to and how frequently and if they talked to that person again, following all of these people around like a poorly trained dog begging for scraps? Because that’s what social media stalking is and it’s tacky and weird. Stop it. People are not meant to be open books for dissection, they’re meant to be fascinating creatures of discovery.
Men typically go after what they want. No one ever said this meant women shouldn’t.
And in Love:
Love isn’t an elaborate YouTube video. Love is doing the dishes and the laundry when you’re stuck at the office and leaving a plate of dinner in the microwave for you. Having three million strangers comment on your proposal won’t mean shit when he doesn’t answer your texts and stumbles in drunk the next morning. Big displays of love are just that: displays. And they can feel good and they can turn things around, but love is a river and it will stagnate in a pool of one off gestures.
Do not try to have serious conversations via text. How many times do we need to go over this before it becomes clear that you cannot convey tone in a text message? That taking a phone call in the middle of a text conversation can leave a three minute gap after “do you love me?” and ruin everything? You can’t even use bold or italics in texting! Stop trying to have life altering conversations on this medium.
Your boyfriend and your best friend should be two separate people. For your sanity and his. This person is your lover. They are not your best friend. Your best friend is a different category.
Ain’t nothing wrong with loving someone who loves you more. Imagine this scenario: you need to pull a cart of rocks to the top of a mountain and you can choose one of two people to do it. The first choice won’t complain when you get a little lazy and he’ll stop and help you up when you scrape your knee. The second choice will occasionally tell you that you need to pull it yourself because he’s had a hard life and my god does he appreciate you for doing that for him. He will also tell you that you are strong enough to pick yourself up when you fall, and baby you’ll appreciate me later for making you dust yourself off, because you’re a strong woman. That second man is a manipulative piece of shit and it’s better to learn that now. Being tough is great. Being tough and having someone who’s like, “I don’t care how tough you are, you can’t push a cart of rocks up a mountain with a broken ankle” is better. Learn this now and save yourself years and years of bullshit.
Fights are not multi-media or multi-topic. Talk about the problem at hand and not anything else. Wanting to hear him say you’re beautiful more often is not the right time to mention that your wealthy, charming and single male boss tells you that you look great all the time. The problem is how often your boyfriend says it, not how often anyone else does. Fight fair. And if he’s the one not fighting fair, just yell, “Objection! Leading the witness into a different issue that can be addressed at a later date but not right now!”
Hug and kiss your person the moment they walk in the door. It helps differentiate them from, you know, roommates. It’s the equivalent of washing a garment the moment you spill something on it – it’s much easier to remove that stain after it happens than a week later at the dry cleaner’s. Now kiss and makeup.
Other men and other women are not your enemy. Your partner has control and ownership of their actions. I don’t care if you find another woman in your bed literally wearing a shirt that says “homewrecker”, she is not the problem – the problem is the person who betrayed you. And if the “homewrecker” tank top is your best friend, then the problem is you because you’ve got shitty taste in people.
Being happy is better than being right. You’re probably right about the year KFC was founded, who played Churchill in The King’s Speech, and how many National Championships your university has won. Look it up later, pat yourself on the back, and let it go. Actually, maybe correct him on that National Championships one because your team is technically family.
Comfortable is not the same as boring and passionate is not the same as good. Think about your job, your family members, your friends… you don’t worship them every day. Some days they’re difficult and selfish and pointlessly difficult, but you don’t quit them. You don’t quit your job because your boss didn’t praise your latest PowerPoint deck. You don’t abandon your sister because she got shitfaced at your birthday and you had to give up your night to drive her home. You don’t delete your friend’s number because she didn’t respond to a text. Relationships and occupations ebb and flow and between highs and lows there are plateaus of living your life, of day in and day out, sunrise to sunset of paying bills and buying groceries, good outfits and bad hair days, and the quiet lull of being an animal living its life. And sometimes, when for the seemingly umpteenth time you come home and watch TV with your honey and think, “our relationship is so boring,” consider that they might be thinking the same thing and maybe it’s on you to say, “want to go for a walk and grab a beer?”
The best piece of advice I ever got, concerning anything, was from my father. I was in the dregs of hating my “pointless job” and wondering if I was meant to seriously create digital banner ads under this much duress for all of eternity and what was I even adding to the world and not understanding why men were such complete gas lighting idiots and how could the world be so pointless and cruel to rip away the one thing I loved the most and why was it so hard to figure out how to cook rice and how was our government ever going to fix anything and what was the point of any of this and why couldn’t I find one single god damned outfit to wear that night.
My father told me to have a glass of water, go for a walk, and calm the fuck down.
Therein lay the solution to everything: we get so worked up, so twisted into our own thoughts and misconceptions and assumptions that we forget today is just another day on top of another day and only in the calm can we see the horizon clearly. Everyone gets worried, suspicious, panicky, and confused, and everyone says things that get misunderstood, misconstrued, misattributed, and missed all together. When we’re doubling over backwards to understand life, it’s worth remembering we’re not supposed to understand it, we’re supposed to enjoy it. Seek the calm so you may see the joy more clearly.
1:16 pm • 6 February 2014 • 249 notes
Anonymous asked: So I sit here. You write some pretty dense lyrics. Metaphors about drowning, but rising through. But I ask you to cut through the simile, the metaphors, and the hypocatastasis (I mean I had to look it up). Why'd you break up? Who did you react? You're pushing through because you're strong, but how long did it take before you pushed through? You're awesome, keep writing, but write this post in simple terms.
This question was sent to me on December 22, anonymously. And it’s been bothering me. Or, maybe, lingering. Either way, it hasn’t left me. And I understand what you’re asking.
I don’t think you’re really asking for a breakdown of my breakup. I think you’re asking for a little humanity from me… which is astounding because it feels like all I do is pour my emotions on the screen like lyrical vomit.
When I talk about strength, I am not talking about invincibility. You want to know how I reacted to being dumped? I reacted like most people: I gathered my things, I walked out the door, and I waited until I was around the corner to start crying and call my dad. I cried to my dad. Then I cried to several friends. Then I cried the whole bike ride home. At home, I wanted to throw something and shatter it against the wall but it turns out I like my possessions so I kept picking things up and being like, “no, I like this.” I screamed into a pillow and it wasn’t satisfying and then I started laughing about it. I put on Britney Spears and danced around in lingerie and then burst into tears when the Pandora station played Rihanna’s “Stay” next. But having your heart broken doesn’t mean you can’t be happy or brave or take risks or cry yourself to sleep or flirt with strangers or check your phone for his name after a great night on the town.
Why we broke up, where we are now, the play-by-play… those are mine. And they’ll remain mine outside of cryptic pieces about my current emotional state. But let me assure you, the night he broke up with me, I did in fact go to the grocery store and start crying in the aisle past the bread. But you know what else I did besides cry everywhere like I was leaking? I sent out emails and text messages to basically anyone who knew me in Los Angeles saying some variation of, “I just got dumped and I need a friend. What are you doing this weekend?”
So that Saturday and Sunday, I went on a 45 mile bike ride, out to lunch, to a pub crawl, out to brunch, ice skating, out to dinner, and out to drinks. My friends and my acquaintances (who are now friends) were more than happy to help… and it’s because I asked them to. When I flew home to Idaho, it was the first time in three years I didn’t take anti-anxiety medication to fly - I was so proud of myself. I also cried on the plane because I felt like an idiot - all I wanted to do was tell him I’d done it without meds. I laughed playing dominos with my parents and giggled watching bad movies. And then I had to excuse myself from dinner because I was too sad to keep my composure at the table.
I wouldn’t write pieces about being strong if being strong were easy, if I didn’t need to hear those words myself. One pep talk doesn’t get you through a season. You need one every game, every half-time, every time-out. You need rallying cries and pleas and Hail Marys and god help us, and you need them all the time.
I don’t write in simple terms because life isn’t simple. It’s messy and awesome and harrowing and weird and beautiful. And somewhere in that mess is probably why we broke up… but somewhere in that mess is why we got together in the first place. So who knows and who cares and godspeed and good luck. This blog isn’t a case study - it’s my life.
3:46 pm • 5 January 2014 • 138 notes
If you want the job, you apply for it. If you need a lawyer, you call one. If you like a band, you buy the album. And if you want to hang out with someone, you ask them. That’s it. Seriously. You can ask them to go to a concert, you can ask them to join you for a cup of coffee, you can ask them out for a drink, you can ask if they want to go for a walk, for a hike, for a jog, for a bite, for a beer, for a bender, whatever! Do things have the potential to get a little awkward for 35 seconds when that person turns out to be taken or attracted to the opposite sex or has rules against dating coworkers or maybe just has had a really shit year and isn’t ready to start answering questions that have to do with where they’re from or who they know and in the end them saying no has nothing to do with you at all? Well, yeah. But like I said, the “no” likely has nothing to do with you when the “yes” has everything to do with you.
So ask. That’s the only way anything goes anywhere.
— Dear DateByNumbers on CollegeCandy
2:23 pm • 20 December 2013 • 200 notes