Self Love

As much as we sometimes expect to receive criticism from others, whether it be work colleagues, friends or family, I think at the end of the day we are our own worst critics.

Well I am anyways…

The other weekend I went out to a bar with friends. I was feeling hot in what I was wearing, spent lots of time getting ready, picked the ‘perfect’ outfit and danced the night away. Then on Monday morning, came the dreaded ‘you have been tagged in 2 x photos from Longroom’ notification. Panic struck. As I went online to check the photos that were taken, I wasn’t impressed. I hated the way I looked in it and immediately started nit picking everything: my hair looked greasy and unkempt, I looked chubby and my outfit wasn’t flattering, my make up did not look on fleek, the list continued. Next to me in the photos were two of my best friends, who of course, looked amazing, as they always did.

I was with a friend when I was looking through these photos and at first I wouldn’t even let him see them. He told me that I was being ridiculous and as I showed him he laughed and told me how dramatic I was. It wasn’t until the day after that it hit me how hard I am on myself. The negative thoughts I have about myself, how I look, how I act, how I think I can always be better, these thoughts take over sometimes, as I’m sure it does to many others. I’ve always been self depreciating in humour and love poking fun at myself and others, a true form of good banter in my opinion, but I hadn’t realised how much I truly believed these negative thoughts.

My best friend hates her freckles, she actually despises them. This always baffles me because she’s the type of person that could wear a potato sack and still look drop dead gorgeous. Her freckles just add to her beauty and I’m forever telling her that I wished she saw herself through my eyes. And that goes for so many people I know, they’re constantly calling themselves fat and chubby, criticising their appearance or the way they talk or behave. But like my best friend, I always tell them that they’re beautiful and if only they saw themselves through my eyes! So maybe it’s a case of taking your own advice? We should really be waving our own flags, appreciating ourselves and what makes us each unique and beautiful. I think a tough lesson of self love is in order.

L E S S O N S

As I move forward into my quintessential quarter life crisis I thought I’d share my pearls of wisdom that I’ve learnt along the way. I think the older I get, the more I value the friendships and relationships I have. Quality over quantity people! I’d also like to think that my ‘bullshit’ mere is pretty spot on, or at least, getting sharper – I’m able to spot a fuckboy from a mile away and ninja my way out of awkward situations.

The Lessons

1. Patience is virtue – although it might not be my virtue, it’s something that I’ve deemed to be important.  This means not going home with the first fella that gives you a sly wink and waiting for the second…I kid I kid!
I vow to not rush into things and realise that good things come to those who wait.

2. Everyone is going to get engaged, married and have babies – although the mere thought of a serious commitment or having babies is vomit inducing to me, I can appreciate that it might seem like rainbows and sunshine to others
I vow to not feel the need to jump on the bandwagon of serious monogamy and procreation

3. Friendships come and go – and that’s ok. People come in and out of your life for a reason so if they’re not adding anything to your life, let them go!
I vow to realise when friendships are negative and let them run free.

4. Fries before guys – self explanatory really, I love fries and they are more important than guys
I vow to always eat fries.

5. It’s ok to splurge once in a while – if you’ve had your eye on a dress, pair of shoes or piece of jewellery, splurge now while you only have yourself to look after!
I vow to buy that dress I’ve had my eye on

6. Be grateful – don’t focus on what you don’t have, focus on all the things you do have, your health, your friends, your family. Positive minds breed a positive life
I vow to be grateful for all that I have

7. That guy that you think is the end all and be all isn’t – I’ve learnt this the hard way but am grateful for the experience as it’s taught me I can get over anyone/anything
I vow to not be so hung up on anyone that I can’t see past them

8. Being a slag every now and then is ok – but probably not a good permanent life decision
I vow to let my inner slag dance that slaggy dance

9. Obsessing over what you look like is a waste of time – you’ll never truly be happy or satisfied so why waste your time worrying if you’ve done enough exercise or punishing yourself for eating that slice of cake?
I vow to not stress about what I look like or how much I weigh…and to eat that slice of cake

10. Travel! Go forth and see the world and all that it has to offer! I leave on my adventure in 19 days and counting and cannot wait!
I vow to see and experience everything that’s on offer

11. Treat Yo Self – have that facial, get that pedicure, wax that fanny, put yourself (and your goodies) first
I vow to always keep it hair free and fancy free

12. Life isn’t fair – shit happens. It’s how you deal with it that matters. You’re also going to fail, and that’s ok too, you’re not made to be perfect.
I vow to not be knocked down when shitty things happen

Your life only matters if you make it matter.
You only matter if you decide that you matter.

Quarter Life Crisis

I have just turned 25.

I had always liked telling people I was 24, I felt like it was a ‘cool’ age, an age where you’re old enough to be taken seriously, but young enough to still be bar hopping and binge drinking in the weekend. But 25? Bleh yuck off. Don’t even get me started on being 26, 27 or OMG 30.

I’m the oldest of all my friends so I have the greatest displeasure in having the dreaded quarter life crisis first.  Symptoms of such a crisis include but are not limited to:

1 – Feeling ‘stuck’ in what you’re currently doing
2 – Feeling anxious about the future
3 – Wanting to do outlandish things and not caring about the consequences

I remember when I was younger, I had already mapped my life out. I was going to be married at 24 and have kids at 26 – two of them in fact, a boy and a girl. I had planned out my bridesmaid’s dresses, my baby’s names, everything, to a T. But here I am, in the middle of my 20’s and I have to think to myself – what have I really accomplished? What good have I done?

In a constant state of limbo, I find myself often underwhelmed, feeling like time has sped up and forgotten to take me with it. I see people on my Facebook feed getting engaged, having babies or starting up their own businesses. Each is successful in their own right. But me? I’m in a job that I’m not sure is right for me, perpetually single and not really sure what’s in store for the future. I’ve done the typical quarter life crisis ‘thing’ and booked a one way ticket to London where I leave early August – only 34 days away. I’ll be touring across Europe and finding my way in London, searching for a new job. Of course people who are having a quarter life crisis often seek this sort of adventure as a way out or escapism.

Noticeable signs I’ve noticed of my crisis:

1.  I don’t feel like an adult, but I don’t feel like a child either

2. I’m super emotional all the time always – anything from a Sam Smith song on the radio to a sad scene in an episode of Gossip Girl will leave me in a puddle of tears.

3. I think about wanderlust…often

4. I procrastinate, a lot. I know I have shit to do, shit to organize, doesn’t mean I won’t be leaving it till the last minute though.

5. I am basically a peasant. Living like a poor university student even though I have a full time job. Woohoo 2 minute noodles for lunch, again.

6. I find ‘grown up’ things like taxes and insurance really overwhelming and wish I had a personal assistant to do it for me. But because of reason 5 I can’t.

7. I cannot, for the life of me, make decisions. I’m indecisive about everything from the movie I want to watch, to the alcohol I’ll drink.

8. I’ll often look back to my college days in fondness, thinking of them as ‘simpler times’

9. I constantly think about the destined crazy cat lady life I’ll be leading, you know the one that you invite to family holidays because you feel sorry for them. But they bring their cats who are wearing holiday-appropriate clothing. See projected image of myself in a mere 8-10 years below for reference:

So basically…Peter Pan on the money.

F U C K B O Y

Definition:

1 – “A person who is a weak ass pussy that aint bout shit” (Urban Dictionary)
2 – Someone who is irrelevant, basic or disliked
3 – Someone who doesn’t have bae potential; mostly only likes sex or being friends with benefits.
4 – Basically someone who’s a douchebag

I’m assuming that each and every one of us has either dated, met or dealt with a fuck boy before.  They’re the ones that our friends don’t want to associate with, our parents hate and we know deep down that they’re bad for us.

But sometimes the fuck boy is hard to spot. Or they disguise themselves as a legit human being, not someone who will suck the life out of you or make you feel like turning lesbian would be an easier option.  So I’ve come up with a list of signs you are dealing with a Fuck Boy.

1. He never make plans to see you
OR they’re constantly ‘rainchecking’, making plans for night time (“I’ll just come over and watch a movie babe”) and have ‘plans’ in the morning when they sleepover. This rules out possible brunch dates which is heartbreaking as it is my favourite meal.

2. He’s always asking for nudes
They’re too busy to make actual plans with you, but they’re not too busy to ask you for nudes….or send topless snaps to you, or worse (better?) send dick pics.

3. He’s selfish in life…and in bed
You meet up with him in a club or bar and he buys himself a drink without offering you one. Likewise, you get back for humpty dumpty time and he is ever so keen for you to go down on him but is ‘too tired’ afterwards to return the favour.

4. He doesn’t believe in ‘labelling’ things
You’re been seeing him for a while now but he wants to keep things in that awkward ‘I don’t know quite what we are’ period. The reason? He hates labels. Bonus points for him that when your ‘relationship’ or whatever it is turns to the shitter, he can turn around and say “well we were never actually together…”…fuck boy.

5. He says exactly what you want to hear
Or what you think you want to hear. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are and how ‘amazing’ you are…but chances are he’s saying this to several other women (at least) which brings me to…

6. You have no idea how many other women are in his life
I recently met a guy that was the same age as me and had been married for two years and with his wife for eight years. How cute right? Well that didn’t stop him asking for a threesome and continuing to message me afterwards telling me that if I ever needed ‘taken care of’ to ‘holla’ at him…married fuck boy.

7. He plays mindfuck games with you.
Now I’m not saying someone needs to respond to my messages within minutes, but taking hours, or days even to respond? What the hell are you so busy with?

…Am I sounding cynical yet?

Tuesday Feels

Interesting that in times of struggle, need or desperation. It’s the people you expected to always be there who aren’t and the ones that are there surprise you the most…..x

Mr Salt n Vinegar

So as my previous blog post stated, my dating life isn’t going all that well, one could even describe it as a joke. Well I would describe it as a joke. Only I would encounter the ridiculous situations I do.

While my friends go out meeting lovely and charming men, making them their boyfriends, I am in limbo – on the ‘first date curse’ where everyone I meet is an absolute weirdo. I’m also on the ‘tinder buzz’ and have had an alarming amount of dick pics sent to me in the past week…not sure whether I should be flattered or concerned.

The other week a work friend came back to the office exclaiming that she had made a sale and gotten me a date at the same time – everyone immediately celebrated which of course begged me to question, ‘oh god am I that lonely loser?!’ Brushing it off, my work friend raved and rabbited on about this guy she had just met – he was 27, smart, funny and a business owner. Ok this sounded impressive. She told me that I didn’t really have a say in the matter as she had already handed over my number and he was going to contact me sometime in the next day or two to set up a date. OH GOD I thought, I am horrible on first dates. Around my friends and family I’m vivacious and extroverted, but in front of a potential lovvveerrr for a first date? They’re met with an awkward, stumbling, stuttering version of myself. Saaa cute.

So said suitor contacted me and we decided to go to dinner. He had great chat over text so I thought why not. I met him at the restaurant and found him immediately, he had a big dorky grin on his face which immediately made me feel at ease. We actually had good chat and had a lot in common. Though there were things that immediately turned me off:

1 – He complained about the food taking so long – leave the poor waitress alone she looked horrified!
2 – He said that he hardly drunk or went out (I didn’t admit to him that I’m a borderline alcoholic who goes out and gets white girl wasted every weekend)
3 – He reminded me of my brother. Yes my brother which isn’t the comparison you want on a first date.

But because he was so nice and sent me a lovely follow up text (boys take note – always send the follow up text saying how much fun you had and complimenting her)  I couldn’t say no to a second date.  Well I could have but I felt too bad! But I suggested that we do something a bit more adventurous and less formal than a sit down dinner…rock climbing.

He was up for it so we went along and got harnessed up. It was almost immediate that I had regretted going on the second date;

1 – He commented not once, not twice, but four times about how he was excited to belay me while I was climbing and stare up at my bum. What kind of reaction was I meant to have to that??
2 – When he began to sweat, the smell protruding from him was reminiscent of salt n vinegar chips – definitely not my favourite flavour.
3 – He was far too competitive. I’m naturally a very competitive person, love to win, hate to lose, but he took it to a whole other level when he won the harmless race we had and screamed YOU LOSE in my face
4 – The lady at the counter walked up to me and asked if I had dropped my undies (there was a pair on the floor next to the wall we had just been at) I jokingly said no my undies are in my bag to which he looked at me like I was a complete psychopath. He clearly didn’t understand my brilliant humour 😉
5 – When we got back to my flat he awkwardly invited himself in – saying that he had an hour to spare (spare for what? just go home?!) and asked if he could come inside for a cup of tea (on my shelf at my flat I have a variety of things – Japanese mayonnaise, rice crackers and baked beans – but no tea) So I had to make a quick excuse as to why he couldn’t and leave it as that.

Don’t get me wrong – he was a lovely guy and has a lot of things going for him but sometimes you just can’t fake a ‘spark’, it’s either there or it isn’t. So unfortunately no third date for Mr. Salt n Vinegar.

FOMO

FOMO; or Fear of Missing Out: An anxiety that an exciting or interesting event may currently be happening elsewhere, often aroused by posts seen on a social media website

Sure it may be a naff term (can’t believe I just used the word naff) but FOMO is something I hear constantly. Whether its FOMO about missing out on a party you didn’t go to, FOMO about not going travelling when all your friends are, or FOMO on having a boyfriend when you’re stuck in singletown – population:you, FOMO is a bloody phenomenon.

But lately I’ve been feeling FOMO about nearly everything, realising that whatever choice or decision I make, I’ll miss out on something. And that’s scary. What if you don’t really know what you want and choose something only to regret it later?

Specifically these things arise from social media: Facebook, Instagram and so on. For example, I scroll through my Facebook newsfeed like I’m reading the daily newspaper, and start seeing posts of babies. Now being 24 there were a few girls from my school who got pregnant when they were younger, say 18 or 19. I had presumed that these were all woopsie daisies pregnancies and weren’t really planned. But at 24 I’m not seeing people that are ACTUALLY CHOOSING to have children. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about everyone having their own life plan and making their own choices, and good on them but I find it scary for myself that people are making those decisions to take care and nurture another life when I can barely look after myself most days! It’s a miracle I wear matching socks, I turn up to work on time and remember to eat breakfast.

Another commonality I’m finding is weddings. It feels like its engagement/wedding season lately. Every day it seems like I’m seeing a new ‘he liked it so he put a ring on it’ status alongside cute couple photos and the obligatory ring or wedding pic. Again, totally happy for these loved up couples and awesome they share their love with the world, but it scares me to think that I’m not even close to any of that. I’m still hitting up tinder and pashing guys in town on the weekend.

In less than four months I’m off to see the world. And as excited as I am to do it, I can’t help but feel anxious about what I’m leaving behind, what will I miss out on while being away? Because I’m so close to my family I’m terrified of what I’ll miss. I joke with my parents about being the favourite (I’m one of six children) BUT HOW WILL THEY COPE WITHOUT ME?!

Ok more seriously, I think the bigger questions is, how will I cope without them? Without mum to reassure me and give me reason and logical advice? Without Dad to take care of me when I’m sick? Yes I’m gaining so much in leaving and experiencing so much, but what am I leaving behind?

These sorts of thoughts and questions are leaving me anxious. The worst part is there’s no right or wrong answer, it isn’t something you can just ‘fix’. Whatever decision you make in life you’re going to be missing out on something. If you’re in a relationship, you’re missing out on being single. If you’re single you’re missing out on the companionship of a partner. If you decide to stay in and have a quiet night, you’re missing out on a potentially good party or wine night with the girls. God the list goes on but the point is no matter the situation, you’re going to get FOMO. So maybe it’s about figuring out which FOMO is the lesser devil?

God so many choices, so little time.

A series of misfortunate events

Over the past month my dating life can only be defined as a ‘series of misfortunate events’…

Example One: The Catfish 

Having visited Christchurch to see one of my best friends last year I was scrolling my way through potential suitors on Tinder. I matched with someone I’ll call catfish for all intent and purposes. Catfish looked cute on his profile and had terrific banter but we didn’t end up meeting. I went back to Auckland and we continued chatting on a weekly basis. So when I had planned another trip to Christchurch just a month ago I was obviously excited to potentially meet up with this intriguing catfish (I had actually been referring to him as a catfish to which he repeatedly said he wasn’t) we had still been talking lots and he said he was excited to finally meet me! He’d even made specific plans to take me to dinner. So I get to Christchurch and I don’t hear from catfish. I message him asking where he’s at and got no response?  I decided not to let it ruin my trip because after all I was there to see my friend, but the whole time I was there I hadn’t heard a whisper. The night I get back to Auckland I receive a video apology (wasn’t sure this was even a thing?) saying he had been ‘caught up’ with family issues and that he was really sorry….

Example Two: The Methven Cyclist

Whilst I was pretending not to care about catfish blatantly ignoring me I decided to get on the wines and go to a BYO where I met potentially the rowdiest group of males I’d ever had the pleasure(?) of meeting. One of said males was someone I’ll refer to as Brent. Brent was the life of the party – on par with how drunk I was we clicked immediately. He was tall dark and handsome. We got to talking and found out a little bit about each other – he was a primary school teacher (swoon) from Methven. Where the fuck is Methven? Oh that’s right it’s a teeny tiny city with a population of about 1000. He tells me that Methven’s so small he doesn’t have a car, and cycles to work (swoon x 2) This country boy was gorgeous so I couldn’t resist giving him a cheeky pash. That was until the lady told us to get out of the pokey room at the casino. Yes I’m a true romantic. So back to Auckland I went and said goodbye to the Methven cyclist who I’ll probably never see again.

Example Three: The Lizard

Jumping back on Tinder I didn’t have high hopes but matched with someone who we’ll call Dan. Dan had a lot of pictures on his profile and in each of them looked cute. He had just moved to New Zealand for work from Australia and because I love a guy with an accent we planned to meet up. I met him in town for a drink and while the banter was good and he was cute in real life, there was no ‘spark’, no instant connection or day dreams about him being my future husband.. My realization of the no ‘spark’ was potentially because of a few reasons…
a) – He joked that he was going to push me off the balcony – jokes about killing me on first date? Woah save it for the second date buddy!
b) – I became a bit tiddly and when he went in for a kiss I thought why not. But I wasn’t prepared for him to morph into a lizard who would dart his tongue in and out of my mouth like he was trying to find something? Sorry Dan had my tonsils taken out years ago. On second thought, maybe this has worked for him in the past?
c) – He asked me if I had an ‘inside voice’ – NO I CLEARLY DON’T DAN.

So, all in all my dating life is going swimmingly…..

‘That’ Girl at the Clurrrrb

So this weekend I headed out to a BYO with a group of girlfriends. Ready for some banter, drinks and a boogie I was a bottle of wine deep in no time. But of course it didn’t stop there, not realising my limits (when will I learn) I was bought drinks, bought some myself, and turned into a thirsty, wild animal who couldn’t get enough of the demon juice we know as alcohol.

Now we all know ‘that’ girl at the club. That one who’s just the drunkest person there, not making sense, probably falling over, crying or hitting on everyone insight. We all have those nights and on Saturday, it was my turn. I became a sloppy menace to my friends….and society. Ok ok I wasn’t that bad but what tipped me off was seeing (or what I thought was) my ex’s friend. Yelling out to them they ignored me which seemed to turn me into a bawling mess of self pity. Crying in the toilet cubicles to my poor best friend about how much I missed my ex was the tipping point and when I was taken home by another caring friend.

Waking up in the morning was painful and not just because of my thrashing headache (you know the ones where it feels like you’re brain is flipping…just me? ok…) but also because I instantly felt embarrassed and regretful. Embarrassed that I had totally waaa’d on to my friends and embarrassed that I had actually admitted out loud that I missed him. I was getting really good at ignoring these types of thoughts.

They say it takes half the time that you’re with someone to get over them and I just don’t know if that’s true. Maybe you carry around a little bit of hurt from each relationship you have? Maybe that hurt never truly goes away? I think your heart and your head are always fighting with each other. My head is always (usually) reasonable, logical and full of wisdom while my heart makes me feel quite the opposite. While I know ex’s are ex’s for a reason and that they end for a reason, meaning there’s something bigger and better just round the corner, my heart has a harder time of letting go, of memories we shared, laughs we had and what could have been.  But maybe this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having relationships past and present is all about memories, remembering the times you shared and realising that not all friendships or relationships are forever. Remembering that its OK to miss someone and that it’s never something I should be embarrassed or regretful about. People in relationships don’t have it perfect all the time, so of course it’s the same for all the single ladies.

To All The Single Ladies

As I find myself the Beyonce ‘single lady’ amongst my group of friends I’m often bombarded with questions including, but not limited to, “so who are you seeing?” “are you ok?” or my favourite, “don’t worry I’ll set you up with someone ok?” My friends and family seem to worry about my lack of dates or lack of current boyfriend as if there’s something wrong with ME.  As if they believe I’m sat at home cry-wanking at night about not having a significant other. That I’m writing in my diary about my longing for someone to hold me at night, my tears soaking the pages.  As if it couldn’t possibly be the case that I’m actually OK being single, OK with being by myself and OK not having a man in my life.

Being in that awkward stage where half the people you know from school are getting married, having children and purchasing homes, and the other half don’t know what the heck they’re doing, I would definitely categorize myself in the latter category. Just about to embark on my OE the mere thought of settling down, buying a home or having kids is terrifying to me. I don’t know what I want, where I want to live or what tomorrow will bring let alone the future. And guess what, that is absolutely a-ok with me. As a control freak in the past I’m trying to let things be, let things naturally happen the way they’re meant to and live by the mantra of if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

But what is this overwhelming need for women to have men in their lives? To have someone on the go, to have a date every night of the week, to have someone to text or booty call on a Saturday night.  We find ourselves constantly pressured to find a boyfriend, or a husband before it’s too late and the good ones are taken. It’s been ingrained in our subconscious that within mere minutes of meeting someone we’re doodling their last name after ours, picking our bridesmaids dresses and wondering what your children will look like. (Yes women are creeps). But isn’t this way of thinking just setting yourself up for disappointment? It puts impossible pressure on them and yourself, something that you just can’t live up to.

So to those people that are so deeply concerned with my singledom, be rest assured that I’m fine. I’m enjoying my 20’s, enjoying partying every weekend, enjoying having nights to myself to catch up on my favourite shows. Enjoying not having to answer to anyone, to check in with anyone or doing things I don’t particularly want to do. Enjoying not having to entertain someone else’s friends or family, enjoying spending time with my own friends and family by myself. To put it simply, I’m enjoying my life. There’s nothing “wrong” with me that I’m single. I am by myself because I want to be. Being by yourself and happy is something I’m proud of so anyone with a contrasting opinion can tell their story walking.

I also don’t need to be set up. Although I’m flattered that my friends want to see me happy with someone, I’m not interesting in dating someone’s friends brother’s uncle’s ex boyfriend. I also don’t want to be set up at clubs and bars – that drunk guy who’s sloppily dancing isn’t really my type…no matter how drunk I am. Sure I’m happy to get my flirt on, awkwardly dance with someone I think is a mega babe, but most of all, I go out to have a good time with my friends, not to meet a potential husband. I go out to have a boogie, to get a bit horsed, make a bit of a dick of myself, and have a laugh. One night stands and husband hunting is just not my thing.

Don’t get me wrong. If I came across my dream man I would snatch that man up in a fishing net and never let him go. But in the mean time, I wouldn’t change a thing.