There are 3 things that I know about myself: I am extremely stubborn, I make jokes about absolutely everything (Just ask my dead grandmother…relax, she honestly doesn’t mind) and I can easily become obsessed with something I truly like. And I’m talking like a decade-long fixation and not a passing fad. Can you guess what my latest compulsion is?? Swiping on a particular, popular dating app, and not just any ole’ swiping. Swiping left is the new petty. I’ve gotten to a point where I don’t even read the profiles and look at the rest of their pictures, I just fucking swipe. I obviously I have specific rules for swiping like if there’s a cat in the first picture I see of you, you are dismissed. If there’s a big ass fish being hung from some sort of line, you are dismissed. If your first picture is of you in a group of 20 deep, you are dismissed. I’m addicted to the rush of mass rejection. What is it about rejection that makes us feel (well, those of us that are dead inside…) so goddamn powerful. And before you shake your head in disbelief, ask yourself why the whole world is on so many dating apps…
A wise woman once said “Age ain’t nothing but a number”. True, age doesn’t necessarily define maturity. You can’t help but be attracted to who you’re attracted to; younger, older, skinny, fat. How many times have you seen someone’s great-grandfathers trying to pick up a barely legal tenderoni and no one says a word. I mean, it’s obviously as normal as sliced bread and it will continue on long after we’re all dead. But what happens when a woman tries to do the same? Well, obviously she must be shamed! How dare she take advantages of such a young man, she’s a woman for Christ’s sake. She’s suppose to be fucking nurturing and have no desire to sit on said young and able dick. Because let’s face it, we’re suppose to accept men as they are: saggy hairy balls, gross back hair, erectile dysfunction. But as women, we should keep it “tight and right” under the threat of being traded for a younger model. We are suppose to see past superficiality of a smooth and young body and go for someone “our own age”, whatever the fuck that means.Why does age affect the way we date, as women but not men’s. Obviously we can cite “Patriarchy” as the most obvious reason, but is there more than that…..
So in a effort to be less antisocial than I’ve been, I decided to join other millennials in search for…well I’m not so sure what yet, but at the very least a warm body to come over once in a while and promptly leave just a quickly as he came (pun fully intended…yes, I’m gross but you already knew that…). With the internet making physical human interaction as so accessible, we are living in world where more than half of your social circle is either on Tinder, Grinder, OK Cupid, Bumble and the ever, cringe-worthy POF ( I apologize to divorced soccer moms, weekend dads and sexy, single grandmas everywhere…but come on!). With all these tools at our disposal, it should more than easy to troll for your next victim. But as with everything related to the internet, Those dating sites are littered with thousands moronic assholes who can barely spell but can’t help let their inner misogynist/xenophobic/racists monologues in your inbox…What the fuck is a girl to do?!?!
WARNING! Do not read this at work, or at the very least, don’t leave it up on your screen, because today we’re talking about one of my favorite subject: KINKS! OK, so if you were to look up the definition of kink; it pretty much refers to bizarre (YES!!!) and unconventional sexual preferences or behaviors (DOUBLE YES!!). Now I personally think that kinks are a normal part of sexuality. Everybody has something that they enjoy and that they feel somewhat ashamed for liking (that guilt…). Movies and TV shows have normalized “Vanilla Sex” because it looks pretty and obviously there are many things that you can’t show (unless you’re living in France…Lucky bastard/bitch). But through this conditioning, most people have now accepted that missionary and cowgirl are pretty much the positions that most people know and stick with. Which again is fine…well, not really but I mean people like what they like. But what happens when you’re someone with an insatiable appetite for weird, an open mind and willingness to try new things (Always try everything once…well, at least twice) and you are dating a “vanilla person”? How do you broach the subject of butt plugs with someone who things using lube is caused for alarm (yes, this is real story…it happened to a friend of a friend of mine…)? How to do you tell Vanilla that you like all the flavors and then some?
As someone who dates (a lot), I often hear other friends who date (a lot) either complain that there is no one out there for them (7 billion people and really no one…how that math/logic works, I dunno but they swear…) and that they will end up alone for the rest of their days. I’d like to be the good friend and remind them they will never die alone and that I’ll be around to identify their remains once the cats have fed off their decaying carcasses. It does little to comfort them, but at least I’m trying. Obviously, my sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired but it does raise some serious questions for those of us who are in their 30’s or further along, with no kids or spouse in sight. Why are we so scared of dying alone?
Can we be real with each other? What is it with guilt that drives people to recoil in the fetal position the minute they try to be a little more selfish? Can’t we put ourselves first? Men do it all the time (Penis firs though..) but as women we’re so constantly worried that people will see us as self-centered or acting in self-interest. We’re ready to prove them wrong even if it means that we’ll spend the next 30 years miserable, just so Mr. Smith and his dick can be happy…Is devotion really worth the mental anguish and the constant self-doubt?
The fear I’m feeling right now, is slightly paralyzing. I’ve been siting at this computer for over an hour, terrified of outing myself. Scared that the ones that were the closest to me had no idea at the time and still have no idea. I’ve carried this “thing” for almost 5 years now and the burden hasn’t gotten too heavy…yet! I’m outing myself today because after talking to someone close to me about the very subject, I found myself shocked that I didn’t see the signs, especially since I lived it. I hid the fact so well that no one knew that I was in abusive relationship for 5 years.