Affirmation

I believe in self-compassion.

I believe that there are all kinds of love, but never the same love twice.

I believe in wearing makeup if it makes you feel beautiful.

I believe in chocolate cake. Lots of chocolate cake. 

I believe that people are the prettiest when they talk about something that they love.

I believe in speaking your mind only if you are not offensive. 

I believe in wearing athletic clothes even when you're not exercising.

I believe in fear. 

I believe that we will not make strides without setbacks. 

I believe that God brings you to struggle to lead to you success. 

I believe in wedding rings.

I believe in long soccer-mom walks in lieu of running. 

I believe in God. 

I believe that you are the best friend you will ever have.

I believe that a kind word can save a life.

I believe in hair extensions.

I believe that a few minutes in the sun can heal the soul.

I believe that you can always love deeper.

I believe in trying harder. 

I believe in midnight snacks. 

I believe that you are a product of both nature and nurture. 

I believe in adoption.

I believe that who you love is not a choice. 

I believe in family.

I believe that high heels look better with dresses than flats. 

I believe in hometowns.
I believe that there are warriors among us. 

I believe in angels. 

I believe that some fights worth it and some are worth letting your opponent win. 

I believe that Chinese food tastes better cold. 

I believe in silence. 

I believe in rolling the windows down, even in the winter. 

I believe in designer jeans. 

I believe that when you feel like life is over, it may only be the beginning.

I believe in going home. 

I believe that you can touch the lives of people you've never met. 

I believe that you are always in the right place at the right time. 

I believe in admitting defeat, but never accepting it. 

I believe in froyo for dinner.

I believe in seat belts.

I believe in self-forgiveness.
I believe in happiness.

I believe in living the life you have created, are creating, and have yet to create.
I believe in this moment you are a person that you will never be again. 

What Football and Scandal Have In Common

I don't watch football.

Oh, let me clarify: I do not watch televised NFL games on Sunday afternoons.  I do, however, frequent high school and mights football games starring my incredibly athletic and gifted nephews, but that's not that kind of football I mean.  I mean, when I'm on a date and a guy asks me if I like the Patriots, he's undoubtedly going to be disappointed by my non-commital, "Eh, yeah, sort of."

I don't want to say 'no' exactly, because I have watched football before hundreds of times, and I don't hate it; I just don't love it.  But they want me to love football.  (Yes, I did just group all men into one large all-encompassing 'they').  Because THEY really do want me to.  It's not their fault though, and it's not mine either.

Us females, we are born into a world of pink, sparkles, and frills.  We are wrapped in blankets adorned in flowers.  We're given gifts wrapped rose-toned paper tied with lace.  We are taught that we are girls and we should like "girl things."  Not to be confused with boy things.  Footballs, wrapped in football wrapping paper, to toss around with football buddies before Monday night football.

You know, guy stuff.

Okay, so I'm exaggerating, but you get where I'm going with this.  People teach us what to like when we're younger, but then we grow up.

Little boys who like football grow up to be grown men who like football and everyone is totally fine with it.  Little girls who like ballet grow up to be grown women who love ballet but are watching football with their husbands on Sunday afternoons because they're cool wives.

We get older and men want the best of both worlds.  They want us to wear dresses and cook because that's what girls do, but they also want us to watch football and drink beer because that's what makes us cool.  How confusing is that? The things we we're taught are strictly for boys when we're little are now the things we're being asked to like.  Wait a second... I have an idea!

Men should like shopping.  Men should like Grey's Anatomy.  Men should like flowers.  Men should like what we like.  I don't consider myself a feminist by any means, but I do think that we're living a double standard, and ya know what?  I find myself perpetuating that double standard.

Last week I went on a date with a new guy I met on OkCupid (I've upgraded from Tinder to OkCupid).  We met at a restaurant for drinks.  I wish I remember what he was drinking, but I remember thinking, 'okay, good choice,' when he ordered.  I like beer, so I get worked up when a guy orders a Coors Lite or something on a date.  Huge turn-off.  Anyway, I was sipping on a Shipyard Pumpkinhead, not wanting to come off too masculine by ordering a lager or something, when he asked my least favorite question...

So, do you like football?

At which point I stuttered through my explanation of how I could see myself watching football with someone who cares about it, but how I would never sit down to watch the Pats on my own. 

Oh, what do you like to watch? Grey's Anatomy? Scandal?

To which I answered honestly, "Both."

I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this because I know it's a girl show, but I watch Scandal, too. 

I had no idea what to say, but I didn't have to think of anything because the conversation moved quickly to red wine, our jobs, our families, etc.  But I kept thinking about Scandal.  Did I think it was weird that he liked it? Sort of.  I thought maybe he's gay.  Then I thought maybe he doesn't know he's gay, but then the more I thought about it, I realized: THIS ROCKS! IF THIS WORKS OUT WE COULD WATCH SCANDAL ON THURSDAYS!

That's the thing, we forget that guys can like "girl things," too.  It doesn't make them homosexuals, it makes them fun for girls to hang around with, the same way liking sports makes girls fun for guys to hang around with.

I feel like I'm rambling, but I'm gonna try to zero in on a point here: Gentlemen, it's okay for you to want a girl who likes sports, but it's also okay to like some of the girly things in life! And Ladies, it's okay for you to ask a guy to likes the things you like.  It doesn't make him less manly, if anything, I think it makes him more attractive.  Think of all of the potential shopping trips, paint nights, and Bachelor marathons in your future if you find the right man for the job.  

Flight or... Nope, That's It. Just Flight.

I always bring the most fun facts parties.  That's why I'm invited to so many hip-posh-cool dinner parties where people talk about cool things, like the latest fashion trends, who's dating who in the celebrity circles, and why they 'literally can't even' with girls who still wear Ugg boots (Can you tell I don't have that many girl friends?).  So, if you've ever been at one of those super cool-hip-posh parties with me, you'd know that my favorite and most fun fact is the following:

Contrary to popular belief, women are less likely than men to be victims of violent crime.

People love to hear that.  They're always like, "What? Really? Tell us more!" Which is, I'm sure, how you're feeling right now.  No worries, I'd never leave you hanging!

The reason that us girls are less likely to be victims of violent crimes is because we're scared.  You know when you're walking out to your car after a long day of outlet shopping and the parking lot is dark because you had to stay 'til close because you couldn't decide between the black blazer at J.Crew or the red blazer at BCBG?  You're leaving the store and you say to your friend, "Hey, hop in, I'll drive you to your car. Mine's closer."  You've actually just saved her life.  Now, maybe it's because your feet are tired from strutting around all day window shopping in your cute, yet impractical, Tori Burch flats so you assume her feet are tired to, but the reason you decide to stick together should ultimately be because it's safer.  Even if that's not what you're thinking, we, as women, engage in more preventative behaviors that make us less likely to be victims!

Let me break it down for you.

you're scared = you stick together = you're safer

So, why don't men engage in these same behaviors?  They make sense, right?  The buddy system, parking in well-lit areas, parking closer to buildings, etc. Well, let me tell you. It's society's fault. 

Men are, in my opinion, actually socialized NOT to engage in these safe, preventative behaviors.  For starters, boys are raised from a young age to assume that they are tougher than girls.  Scary movies, violent video games, rock 'em sock 'em robots: all male-oriented things.  Even bugs (which pose a serious threat if you ask me, especially spiders) are for boys because naturally boys are stronger, tougher, and less scared.  In essence, they are taught to FIGHT when a threatening situation arises.

Not us though, girls, we have been told the total opposite.  FLIGHT, ladies, the answer is always FLIGHT. We, unlike boys, are constantly reminded that we are in the midst of the dangers of the world and we are bombarded with messages about how to keep ourselves safe.  Our parents remind us to never leave a party alone, men offer to walk us to the car, and we are given pepper spray for our 16th birthdays... That last one might have just been me.

I say there's nothing wrong with flight.  When you're scared, that's good, BE SCARED and take the proper precautions.  And finally, tell you're boyfriend, brother, dad, cousin, best (boy) friend to cut the shit.  Make him let you drive him to his car.  Make sure he parks closer to the building.  Don't make him stand up for you at the bar when a creepy guy makes a comment about your ass.  Tell him you're not looking for superman, but that you want to live a life where no one needs to call superman! 

We, as twenty-somethings, live in a universal "it could never happen to me" mentality that literally sets us up for it to happen to us!  I'm not saying to live in fear, but what I am saying is that sometimes it's healthy to be a little scared: it could save your life...

Take a second to watch this snip-it from Oprah about the Gift of Fear. Kelly (the girl from the story) experienced something awful, but the gift of fear saved her life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBProrposzc&feature=youtu.be

(Insert Tinder Pun Here)

Anyone who knows me in any capacity knows that I've had the same dream since I was a teenager.  One goal that I've been working toward each and everyday; an aspiration that consistently presses in the back of my mind whether I'm studying for an exam, sipping pinot noir on a saturday night, or completing the lightest agility workout you can imagine... I cannot get this one idea out of my head. 

I want to be on The Bachelor. 

Before you begin passing judgment, let me stop you right there and redirect you to another thought: have you ever heard of Tinder?

If you haven't, you clearly haven't been a single twenty-something recently and neither have any of your friends.  Tinder is, in essence, the quintessential expression of how overtly shallow our generation's vision of beauty has become.  It's an iphone app that demonstrates how technology has enabled us to not only embrace a depthless idea of what is beautiful, but it also allows us to forfeit all human socialization and courting that once was "dating."

Don't get me wrong, I have a Tinder (yes, I am that desperate).  I went on my Facebook, picked out what I thought were the most flattering pictures of myself that also reflected who I am as a person - a photo of my sister and me at her wedding, a picture of my niece and me on Easter, one of my mom and me- and I created an account.  I even thought of a funny yet sweet bio for under my photos, you know, so that guys could really get to know me:

Lover of carbohydrates, sunshine, and ice cream for dinner. Currently studying to spend the rest of my life helping seventh graders get their shit together.

Perfect.  And ya know what, I think it's going great.  Look at this super sweet message I got today. 

Ahhh, romance! Like, is this guy serious?  Indeed he was.  So, here's my annoyance.  I have always made comments about wanting to find love on The Bachelor, half in a kidding way, half in a serious I've-already-filled-out-my-application way, and people are constantly telling me how stupid that is.  They meet me with unrequested and unwelcome opinions of how fake the show is, how dumb the girls are, and how I'm "so much better than that."  But I invite all of the people of that opinion think about this:  the men and women who meet on TV on any reality show, be it The Bachelor, Dating in the Dark, For Love or Money (I could go on forever), these people are ACTUALLY meeting.

So, yes, the bachelor himself has twenty-five girlfriends and narrows it down to one that he supposedly wants to marry after six weeks in romantic, idealistic beautiful locations; does that sound worse than checking out a thumbnail size photograph, maybe checking to see how many mutual Facebook friends, and then swiping right because "you're hot?" 

I don't know, something doesn't sit well with me.  And maybe I'm being dramatic.  Maybe reality TV, iphone apps, online dating websites... maybe they're all the worst possible ways to meet your other half.  They probably are, but we're living a world of inorganic interactions where texting is the primary form of communication, emojis are worth a thousand words, and read receipts are one of the easiest ways of letting someone know you're just not into them.

So forgive me for fantasizing about meeting the love of my life on television, it's pathetic and I should have more respect for myself.  Instead, I'll just Tinder message all of my matches the following emoji combination until one of them takes me up on it. 

Why I Fell In Love Again - Despite My Better Judgment

So, here I am, almost one whole year since my boyfriend became my ex-boyfriend.  Almost one whole year since I started this blog.  Almost one whole year since I started drinking whiskey and housing hot tamales instead of drinking green tea and picturing the houses of my dreams. And finally, here I am, almost one year from having my heart broken... and I am still heartbroken.

My ex-boyfriend and I... yes, please notice I have started using the term ex-boyfriend in lieu of the euphemistic "former boyfriend" I used to say to soften the blow... anyway, my ex-boyfriend and I have spent the past three months falling back in love with one another.  Well, at least, I was falling back in love - not that I had ever fallen out of it - I think he was playing with the idea of loving me again.  So, the two of us have been spending our days thinking of each other, sharing in each other's joys, and I have been happy.

My smile was back.  I know I sound like a cliche Taylor Swift pop song.  I felt like a Taylor Swift song. 

Every time you smile

I smile

and every time you shine

I'll shine for you

Unfortunately, like most Taylor Swift songs, this one is quickly followed by an angry song about a breakup that was seemingly Taylor's fault, but honestly, I don't blame her. 

I think Taylor Swift is just trying to find love, and be loved, and be in love.  Who would want to be known as the girl that dates guys and then get's dumped on her ass and has to write pathetic love songs about the breakups? 

Anyway, you're probably wondering why I let this happen again.  Or maybe you're not wondering, but I'm going to be writing it down here regardless, because this is blog has basically become the adult version of my seventh grade livejournal. 

I fell for him again because I wanted to.  

Yes, it's that simple. I took a class in my undergrad where my professor suggested that the best way to live a happy and healthy lifestyle is to treat yourself like you are your own best friend.  I loved the idea.  I absolutely one hundred percent cannot stress enough how much I love this idea.  Think about it...

When you're tired at the end of the week and the last place on Earth you want to go is the gym, what would your best friend say? 

I'll tell you, mine would say, "Oh, no you're not going to the gym, we're drinking wine." 

On the other side of the same coin, if I am just being lazy, my best friend is the first person to kick me in the ass and tell me to get out of bed and hit the ground running. 

So, what's my point here? My point is that as my own best friend, I knew I would be happy with my ex-boyfriend if things worked out, so I let myself fall for him all over again.  I cooked him dinner, I wore more dresses (as if that was even possible), I smiled my biggest, brightest smile for his parents even though I know they don't approve of me, and then... when I realized how pathetically in love I was with someone who wasn't giving me the same in return... I walked away.

Because, see, as my own best friend, I can't let myself look stupid.  Best friends help you decide when what you're doing is going to make you happy momentarily or when the brief happiness is not worth the consequence.  For example, I have an incredibly strong desire to wear athletic clothes to pretty much every bar I go to, and sometimes my best friend let's me.  Like if she knows we're just going to a slummy bar to drink cheap beer in a room full of middle-aged men, she totally let's me rock the nike's.  But then sometimes, she's like, "Jane, no, go change! And stop crying!"  (an ode to my over-emotional response to every given situation). 

What I'm trying to say is that it's okay that I am heartbroken again. It's okay that I made the same mistake that every best friend tells you not to make, but then you make it anyway because you just think that this time will be different.  See, the best part about treating myself like my own best friend, is that I'm not mad at myself - I'm proud of myself.  Letting him back into my life was a decision I thought would make me happy, and when it didn't, I cared enough about myself to change that decision.  

And even more importantly, I am lucky to have true best friends that love me.  That knew all along I was making a mistake and they let me make it anyway.  And yeah, they're annoyed that I'm still sad.  Hell, I'm annoyed that I'm still sad! But they love me enough, and honestly, I love myself enough, to let me be sad for a little while once more, and then to kick my ass and make sure I move on.