When Tinder Makes You Question Everything You've Ever Wanted

When I was 10 years old I met Benny Disco.  We had a mutual family friend and were invited to swim over at their family's pool.  It was love at first sight.  Benny was 12 (swoon).  He had rosie cheeks and a chubby body and I was smitten.  It was destiny.  That is until he and the older kids went to play basketball in the driveway and I went home with my mom because I wasn't about to be the chubbiest, shortest girl on pavement.

Years passed and Benny floated in and out of my life (I'm totally lying he had no idea who I was). Benny went to a private high school and then some college, I assume.  I drunkenly friended him on Facebook one night in college on a dare from my BFF. She did it, too, in solidarity, of course.  The funny thing about my schoolgirl crush on Benny is that I rarely remember his name (which obviously isn't actually Benny), so I always need confirmation from my friend when we potentially see him out at a bar, or someone mentions a group of his friends.  "Jane, it's Benny and it's so weird that you always say that you love him!"  Whatever.

A few months ago I was doing my classic nighttime ritual - wash face, brush teeth, put on pj's, swipe through Tinder - when the most amazing, serendipitous match flashed before my eyes. There he was, Ben, 23, first pictured walking in some tropical location. Next, holding a fish or a dog or something (I actually can't remember, but everyone on Tinder fishes or has a dog, I think).

This. Was. Fate. 

I swiped right. He swiped right. It's a match, we were meant to be! I imagined he would message me eventually. Noticing our mutual Facebook friends, connecting the dots, realizing he has always (randomly, without reason) had a schoolboy crush on me, too.  We would meet, hit our stride, and be together forever ....or for a beer..... but that was not the case.

Benny and I have been matched for 5 months now, and you know what?  I totally forgot about it until the other day when Benny did the unthinkable! He posted a Tinder moment - for those of you who don't know, a Tinder moment is a photograph that can be seen by all of your Tinder matches for 24 hours.  I, myself, have posted a moment or two (or 15... 3 of which have been liked by Super Bowl Champion, Legarrette Blount, thank you very much!), but Benny's was nothing like my basic "hotdogs or legs" photo on the beach.  Benny's photo was much, much more than that.

I sat there, in my driver's seat horrified, staring at Benny's, what I'm going to call, Little Benny ready for the Disco.... right there on TINDER for all to see with the caption "someone come help me with this?"  BENNY, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! My cheeks flushed.  Benny was supposed to be sweet and innocent and not putting his package on the internet! My hopes, my dreams, my everything came crashing down.  How could I have been so wrong?!

And that was when I got to thinking, I'm probably wrong about a lot of things. We make these snap judgments and let our first impressions of people stick - good or bad - and then sometimes we are unwavering in our convictions and opinions.  While I'm obviously exaggerating my Benny epiphany, I am sort of serious.  I think it's healthy to reevaluate our goals, our dreams, and truly take a look at what we want and why we want it.  It's like when you see a blue dress on JCrew.com and you are so obsessed with it until you walk into the store and try it on and you look like Violet from Willy Wonka (no? just me?). We are terrible at predicting what we will want or feel in the future, so be ready to change your mind, have a change of heart, and swipe left on what you thought you couldn't live without.

To The Boy Who Asked Me To Dance: An Apology

I was just scrolling through my NewsFeed and saw that you posted a status about the snow.  You're writing a book?? Or making a joke.  I can't tell.  I never understood your sense of humor in high school.  Actually, I never really noticed you in high school, except for at our Freshman Semi-Formal.  I want to talk to you about that.

I really owe you an apology.  When I heard through the grapevine that you were thinking about asking me to the dance, I'm not sure if you know this, but I responded like a total bitch.  It's not like anyone else was asking me, but I thought I was too good for you.  I thought you were weird.  You were always wearing that polo shirt tucked into your khakis, walking around talking about books that no one had ever heard of.  You hung around with that wicked short skinny kid with the spiked messy hair.  He wore the same leather trench coat everyday and the two of you probably talked about... I have no idea what you could've been talking about, but I knew I was too cool for you. Well, I thought I was too cool for you, so back through the grapevine I sent the message that I wanted to go to the dance with my girlfriends. You know, to let you down easy before you actually asked me. 

That night I got all dolled up in my White House Black Market strapless dress (my tastes haven't changed much) and bobbed my head to the beat in a circle of my friends wishing silently that the cute boy on the basketball team would ask me to dance next slow song.  He didn't, but you did.  You walked right over, wearing your suit jacket and tie (totally overdressed in the sea of DEB dresses and Old Navy slacks) and asked if I would dance with you.  Feeling awkward and reluctant, but not wanting to be rude, I said yes. 

Your hands were all clammy and so was your brow line and I felt so embarrassed not wanting anyone to see us dancing together. I remember looking around the gym, thinking everyone was staring at me - at us.  My friends stood together a few feet away, some giggling, some giving me apologetic "it's almost over" glances. You weren't watching them though, you were looking right at me. 

Thirty seconds into the song, "I... uhm.. I have to go to the bathroom." 

That was the best I could do? Seriously?  I said it and I ran to the to meet my BFF and left you there, standing near the DJ, alone. And I am truly sorry. 

Because now here I am eight years later drowning in a sea of unanswered OkCupid messages, hoping that boys men will text me first, hold the door, or buy my beer.  I, like so many women, fall for guys who don't want to commit to me, nor be seen together in public.  I fall for the sorry-my-phones-been-dead-for-three-weeks texts and the I'm-not-looking-for-a-girlfriend-but-if-I-was-it-would-be-you excuses.  I would kill for a guy to approach me now with the same confidence you did at our first high school semi-formal.... to walk right up to me and ask me to dance right there in front of everyone.  I didn't know it then, but clearly you were too cool for me.

You probably still are, as far as FaceBook can tell me.  You understand that there is more to the world than what's right under  our noses.  You raise funds for dreamers, and watch movies and football, and read books, and still wear your shirts tucked into your khakis.  I'm sure you're doing well, and I hope you are.  So, even if you don't remember this night, I wanted to tell you that I do, and I wanted to say that I'm sorry.  You deserved a better dance partner. 

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. 

Welcome To The Real World.

I feel like every special occasion that we've experienced since age thirteen feels monumental.  Like a coming-of-age-shit-I'm-growing-up moment that we look forward to until it happens and then we're like "seriously, can't a girl get a nap time in class anymore?"

I mean, think about it.  We turn thirteen and everyone tells us we're no longer kids.  Then we turn sixteen and they give us car keys and consensual sex.  Eighteen and we are LEGALLY adults: voting in elections, buying porn and dip... ya know, because adults need rights to nudity and cancer.

We graduate high school and enter the real world of college campuses, trusted just enough to live on our own (under the supervision of our peers).  This is where the consensual sex really comes to fruition and Sex On The Beach is actually just Cherry Burnetts and OJ from the dining hall, but it totally tastes like the real thing, don't you think?

We turn twenty-one and they put beers in our hands as if we hadn't had them there before and the car keys they gave us five years prior look even scarier on the way home from a bar than they did on the way home from soccer practice.

And today, I hit the next benchmark -- I am a college graduate.  Talk about a coming-of-age-shit-I'm-growing-up moment... but the weird thing is that I have 0% confidence in how I should be feeling, or thinking, or honestly what I should be doing.  Did today really make me an adult?

Everyone keeps talking about how they're not ready for  real life and I don't even know what it means.  For example, this past Monday night we had a bar crawl for senior students only.  At the last bar, I kissed a guy (the guy who only gives me the time of day if it's not the same time new jordans are released... you all know him well).  So anyway, I stopped kissing him, turned to my friend, and she said, "Ya know, it's fine because this is the last time you can do things like that!" ... not that I'm saying she is wrong, but I received and read my diploma today and it didn't make reference to an alumni prohibition of bar-kissing.

Obviously I'm exaggerating, but it's all very confusing.  We create these perceptions of what real life will be like.  As if because I have my name on a piece of paper next to the words magna cum laude and I'm suddenly supposed to use my knowledge of mental disorders and social constructions to guide all of my actions and decisions in a mature and professional way?  I'm not saying that my education has not propelled me toward success because I actually do believe I'm qualified intellectually to enter the infamous real world, I'm just also wondering what else is changing?  What else should be changing?  How should I be changing?

If anyone has the answers or thinks they might, I'm totally down to listen, but until then I guess this is the first real life challenge in store for college graduates.  Welcome to the Real World.

Dear Best Friend,

I really thought I was in love with you.  Isn't that weird to think about?  We were eighteen, driving to school, watching movies late at night, going to concerts all summer long.  We were the best of friends, but you're a boy and I'm a girl, so in my mind we were meant to be something more.  And I was right, we were meant to be something more, but not in the way I had imagined.

You are more to me than any friend, any boyfriend, anybody on this Earth.  You are a part of me.

When you first told me that you were gay, you put it so eloquently, "it's not that I don't like you, I just don't like what you are." Looking back I feel intense guilt that a moment that should have been about you was suddenly about me.  I feel ashamed that you were nervous to tell me, that you thought I would cry.  What does that say about who I was then?  Was I that selfish?  Now when I look back on that conversation, my eyes do well up because that was the day you became my best friend for a lifetime.

Since that moment, we have shared in every major, minor, mediocre or monstrous happening in each others lives.  The day I left for college and you doubled back to my house for a second goodbye hug.  The day you got into college and called me from the train, secretly in route to surprise me in New York.    The day I moved home from Philadelphia.  The day you moved to Washington.  Every phone call about a boy - your first love, my first love, and every one after that.  Family reunions, dinners, birthdays, holidays, weddings... you're my eternal plus one.

I think about all of the time I used to spending wishing, hoping, praying that you would realize we were meant to be together, and I'm glad for it.  Because we are meant to be together.  You and me. Us. Taking on the world together, because who you are as a person makes me who I am as a person.  You are my reason when I can't think straight.  You are my laughter when my tears are too much.  You're my call-me-anytime.  My "cut the shit, Jane."  My slumber party, defender from bullies, biggest cheerleader and toughest critic.  You are a part of me.

I don't think I thank you enough.  Maybe because I can't thank you enough.  I have grown to be someone I like because I have you in my life.  I am who I want to be because of you.  You are the strongest and bravest man I have ever met, and I am grateful you let me draw on your strength.  You are loyal and kind and beautiful, and I cannot imagine my life without you.

My fear is that I need you more -- that you are all of those things on your own and that I offer nothing in return for your unyielding, unwavering love.  But please know that I am here with you, for you, a part of you forever and a day.

I love you until the moon becomes the sun.