I Cannot Say

What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?

If I revealed the last thing I searched for online, it would be the name of the person I was stalking.

The why is obvious—I wanted to know if this person posted anything on their social media accounts that would give me a bit of insight into something I was curious about.

Why do we stalk people from the shadows?

I will be the first to confess that it gives me a thrill. As open as I can be on my blog, I can be just as closed off in real life—but the downside of that is that it’s hard to let people in and it can get really lonely sometimes. My experience these past several years with letting people in has, without fail, ended in disaster. I don’t know if it’s the generation that we currently live in that makes people fickle, or if it’s due to my sheltered upbringing, or my expectations are way off—or a combination of any of these options—but the end result has always been incredibly disappointing.

I read somewhere recently that everyone being online gives people the illusion of options so no one wants to be loyal and committed anymore. It really resonated with me and makes so much sense. The emotional nakedness that comes with face-to-face interactions, especially in todays hookup culture, is harder for most people than being physically naked with a stranger they just met.

Third base now means posting someone on your Instagram story!

First base is sex.

Crazy. Completely and utterly bonkers. I genuinely don’t like this bandwagon we’re all on and I want to get off.

But back to my stalking. As much as I hate it, I also secretly enjoy the thrill. But along with this, I am totally aware of how toxic it is and I’m looking forward to the day that I will no longer have the urge to stalk anyone because of how in love with my own life I will be.

And I’m taking that one to the bank.

Seeking: One Husband For My Ego

My culture is drunk on weddings. It was something that I despised when I became old enough for the matronly mamas at social events to start asking me whether I had managed to snag a potential husband yet. Young ladies were expected to be married off at a very specific age, and the sooner one was able to pull off that feat, the more accolades she could acquire as personal trophies. What one did with those invisible trophies was anyone’s guess because I always had this sneaky suspicion they weren’t keeping anyone warm at night. It was obvious to me that the ring on my finger wouldn’t soothe my upset late at night when I was unhappy if I had only pursued it to prove a point to gossiping busybodies. At some point I started despising the Olympic-style competition for weddings so much that I became averse to the idea of dating at all. There were moments in my life that when a man crossed my imaginary boundaries in pursuit of dating me, I would have severe panic attacks. This also led to toxic relationships that I would only allow because I always subconsciously knew that the relationships would never lead to marriage. It was a self defeating cycle, one that I am genuinely relieved to be able to say I am breaking free from. To this day when in serious conversations about things that break my heart, people mistakenly, albeit with good intentions, slap the ol’ “we need to find you a boyfriend” bandaid on the whole thing. I am always taken aback because in essence they are saying that a love interest will fix all the things have been incredibly grievous to me in my human experience. Sure, I am not averse to love, but I am, and will always be, vehemently opposed to finding love for all the wrong reasons.