Puppies, Pinot, and President Fitzgerald Grant

Learned helplessness is a concept that was developed by Martin Seligman through an experiment he conducted based on the behaviors of man's best friend.  Seligman sent electric currents through the bottoms of dogs' cages so their little piggy-toes were shocked.  These cages had no apparent escape route, so the dogs were forced to stay put and endure the pain.  At first the dogs squirmed and jumped and looked for ways out of their chambers.  Next, Seligman put these dogs in cages that actually had a way out and shocked them again. The dogs, though, didn't even try to escape.  They stayed put assuming that nothing had changed.  That they were stuck.  They were helpless.

Now, I know Seligman sounds like a douche, torturing those poor puppies and shocking their little paws. I'm not even an animal person and I know that sending electric currents through the cages of theses pooches is a bad move, but what Seligman discovered through this experiment is so unbelievably pertinent to our lives, he should at least get a fist bump for his findings.

I'm not about to tell you that breaking up with my ex-boyfriend was akin to having shocks sent through my toes and that I was in an inescapable cage of emotion. That would be a metaphor even I am not dramatic enough to extend, but I am going to proclaim that I have 100% learned to be helpless.

Tomorrow night I am going on my 5th date with President Fitzgerald Grant... a little pseudonym for the guy I've been seeing that watches Scandal.  Fitz and I have been seeing each other for about a month now and things have actually been going great! We drink coffee, go for walks, talk about our classes (he's a med student...swoon) and I'm totally comfortable.  The thing is that whenever my sisters or my friends ask me what he's like or how things are going, my answer is always the same:

...fine...

Not like an angry-been-in-a-bad-mood-all-week 'fine!' or an upbeat-better-than-good-but-I-don't-want-to-sound-too-eager 'fine...!'  It's more of a got-an-87-on-this-exam-which-is-4-points-above-average-but-I-am-not-over-the-moon-about-it-I-did 'fine.' Ya know what I mean? Which is so annoying because I actually think I really like Fitz.  He's smart and good looking and doesn't own more shoes than I do - talk about a catch!  He's awesome and I think we could be moving in the right direction, but I don't want to get my hopes up. 

And there it is, Ladies and Gents.  I am Seligman's puppy.  For the last two years I have been trying to make it work with my ex-boyfriend. Over and over again I have been in this relationship where I have been excited by the prospect of being together... and then I'm left totally and utterly disappointed when things don't work out.  I give my time, effort, emotions, tacos (one of only dishes I am willing to make on the reg), and I'm still eating the tacos alone.  Now I am helplessly and hopelessly on the verge of not trying anymore.  My sisters are all, "invite him to family game night!" and "let's get dim sum!" and I'm over here like, "should I even shave my legs for our date tonight?"

So, I no longer think that Seligman was trying to be a jerk; I think he was trying to figure out why we're so willing to give up when things aren't easy.  Because when we try and try to no avail, it seems like we should give up.  But I don't want to feel that way.  I don't want to be the kind of person that looks at the glass as half-empty or whatever. Who cares if it's half-full?  What's the worst that happens when it's empty?  I want to look at it and think that at least there is room for more Pinot! (My proverbial glass is a long-stem wine glass, which makes sense because there not supposed to be full. Think about it.)

Seligman and I on the same page about this whole learned helplessness concept.  It's totally learned, but I have good news!  Another forward-thinking-asshole of his time, John Watson, proved something else with a incredibly unethical experiment (another lesson for another day). Behaviors can be learned and UNLEARNED! We don't have to feel helpless forever! So, tomorrow night I'm going to be excited to see Fitz. I'm going to hope that things go well. I'm going to look forward to the future. 

And if things don't work out, I'm going to be fine. I'm going to look at the glass ready to be refilled. Plus, I'm lucky enough to know that some wine glasses are bigger than others anyway. 

Fake Hair. Fake Nails. Can't Lose.

Flashback to my first day of senior year of high school.  I am wearing a white student council t-shirt that matches the DUKE label brazen on the upper left thigh of my unrolled navy blue athletic shorts.  I have on my cleanest and most comfortable silver and green Reebok running sneakers and I have my dull brown curly hair braided back into a skillfully created messy bun.  I am rocking only mascara that I'm not confident I applied that morning or the night before.  I look incredible and the best part about this outfit is that it wasn't an accident.  I really chose to wear athletic clothes to my last first day of high school.

"Why?" you may ask... well, simply because I didn't give a shit what I looked like.  

See, in high school, I was better than everybody else.  I was a three-sport athlete, two-season varsity captain, student council president, mathlete, NHS member, top 5% of my class... I even started a club that focused on teaching practical applications of biotechnology out of the classroom.  I was a jack of all trades and a master of sticking my nose in the air at anyone who cared more about their appearance than about things that really mattered: like books, and grades, and service, and making the most of the academic and extracurricular opportunities we are given in high school. 

Don't I sound like I was wicked fun? Guys were lining up at the door to take me out!

Wait... No they weren't. 

I did have a boyfriend for two years in high school.  Equally as athletic and interested in Nike's.  He was quiet, smart, and joined student council because I asked him to.  We broke up two weeks into senior year.  I don't think it's because he wanted me to wear more make up, but like, maybe it was. 

Flash forward to now: at this very minute I am wearing dark-wash designer jeans (gracias to my bff working at 7FAM), knee high heather gray socks peeking perfectly out of my brown leather riding boots, a gray over-sized J.Crew sweater, and blonde sixteen inch hair extensions (courtesy of Sally's Beauty Supply).  My fingers run across the keyboard with perfectly french manicured acrylic nails and my face - oh, my face looks smooth and bronzed.  Let me tell you, you can't go wrong with Benefit Cosmetics. 

I am, what many men and women across the nation would call: BASIC, and honestly, I like that about myself.  I am put together - at least, I look put together - and I still value all of the same things I valued before. I still read books more than magazines.  I am still a leader.  I am still passionate about education, about service, about athletics.  I am still me.  I just think I'm prettier.  

My sister used to always tell me growing up...

 "It's not how you play the game, it's how you look in the uniform."

 I'm not going to sit here and say that I totally agree, but what I will say that it's feels a hell of a lot better being bad at something when you at least look pretty! Added bonus when you end up being great at something and you look good. And honestly, guys are more attracted to me now.

I'm sure you all have heard a guy say that all they really want is a girl that's 'real,' and they're so over these 'fake bitches' because they're so spoiled, blah blah blah.  To quote another fake blonde after my own heart, Gwen Stefani, that shit drives me BANANAS.  The person that we are should not be judged based on how we look.  Old me, wearing athletic shorts, with God-given curls, and no make-up, was just as smart, kind, driven, and genuine as new me with acrylics, extensions, and Bella Bamba blush. Girls with contacts are just as smart as girls with glasses.  Girls in denim floor length skirts can be just as bitchy as girls in mini skirts. What you're wearing is no real reflection of who you are as a person.  I'm not fake just because my hair and nails are.  My smile is just as genuine whether it's coated in lipgloss or not.

Let me be clear: this is not me giving everyone a free pass to stop brushing their hair and wear men's champion sweatshirts everywhere you go. I think it's important that you dress in a way that makes you feel beautiful.  When you feel good and confident about how you present yourself, others notice that confidence and you invite the type of people, situations, and opportunities that you're looking for into your life.  That being said, we all need to try to look past the clothing (not in a creepy way).  I guess I mean past the superficial mental snapshot we take when we meet someone for the first time.  Maybe, ladies, if we all stop judging each other, guys will stop thinking it's okay to judge us, too.

So, wear athletic shorts or don't, dye your hair or don't, read a book or don't.  Just do whatever it is that makes you feel happy, confident, and beautiful.  Those are the qualities that make a person real, and those who take the time to learn what's in your heart are the ones that really matter.