I’m Just Not a Dog Person

Here is the scene:

Two 20-somethings kiss in front of their family and friends in that little church they always dreamed of. They were high school sweet hearts, or maybe they met in college, or maybe at that bar they always went to downtown. Either way, they are now happily married. They live in a fixer-upper house in a quiet neighborhood with their dog. They talk about the future. They want kids. They have hopes and dreams and enough love that could last them a lifetime… or something like that. It’s what we all hope for. A life, a marriage, a purpose… Love.

But what if that is just not something you want? Or what if that is just something you’ve never been able to fathom, understand, or find a burning need for? (I’m talking about the love part, not the dog). Does that make you lonely, outcast, weird, and complicated?

The answer is: I don’t know. (But I’m not a dog person.)

I’m struggling with this right now. (the love part, not the dog part.) So what better way to deal with this, than telling the internet?

Here’s the thing, I’m not some sad sadistic weirdo who hates on love and happiness. Not the case at all. Actually I LOVE weddings, I think it is so beautiful and exciting when two people decide that they want to spend the rest of their VERY long life with only that one person… that’s a big deal. I love the flowers, and the silly traditions, and the waltz of it all. I love the teary look in the bride’s eyes when she says “I do” and the way the groom holds her during their first dance like she is the only one in the room with him. I’m actually a complete sap. I watch romantic movies and I read trashy romance novels and I love cute-sie sitcoms and Taylor Swift songs. The whole 9 lacy, sparkly, happy, yards. I’m in love with the idea of love.

But I don’t believe in love like that. That’s not what it is to me. To be completely honest, I don’t really know what love is, but I know what it is not, and sadly I think that not-love is so much more prevalent than the idealized love.

Did I lose you?

I live by a certain rule. Me comes first. I know this sounds selfish, and in a way it is, but that’s the point.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve tried the relationship thing many times… I had an amazing clichéd high school sweetheart who I would have done anything for, and we were so happy and blissfully “in love” for 3 years, until he left for college and then he cheated on me and told me it was my own fault for being so far away. Then there was the nonchalant college relationship with a cute guy I worked with, and it was fun and easy, but then life started and we couldn’t figure it out.  Then I had the one who was the perfect match, understood me, always knew what to say, and knew me inside and out, but wanted nothing but my friendship, and it took a while, but I got over that too. Then I settled in… gave up with being picky, as my friends had advised, and went with the first choice at that point, and it was fine, he was nice to me at first, we got along, and were just happy to not be alone that we didn’t really notice that we were not really right for each other, but I thought I loved him. I lived with him, cooked his dinner, did our laundry, and we did things together sometimes, and he always kissed me good morning and good bye before work, even on the day I left. It was comfortable and fine. But comfortable and fine is never what I wanted, and come to find out he didn’t want it either, he only asked me to marry him because that’s what he thought was next… sadly I almost married him before I figured it out (luckily, we didn’t get a dog). We almost married each other because we thought we were supposed to. Isn’t that crazy!?

After that, I thought long and hard about what went wrong. Was it me? Am I what’s wrong? I dwelled on the fact that maybe I’m not loveable, maybe I’m just “too much of a handful.”  I realized not being true to myself was the most painful thing about any of it. Feeling regret for letting someone else take on the burden of making me happy. I regret settling for less than what I wanted. I regretted the time I wasted waiting for things to get better instead of being honest, direct, and taking action for my own needs.

I bounced back easier than I think I should have. I surrounded myself with my amazing friends and family, I lived with roommates for a while, I joined a softball team, I kept busy, I read things that opened my mind, realized I was a feminist, I learned how to self-calm, and talk to myself the way I would if I were someone I loved.  I gave myself room, I did stuff like look in the mirror and say “damn that’s a fine ass!”. I went out, tried new things, got my own apartment, lost weight the right way, bought skirts, started jogging, dyed my hair red, focused on my career, and spent nights alone with my cat and a bottle of wine. I laughed out loud to myself about how far I have come and sometimes I cried about the past, but only for a few minutes, because it felt better to just be happy about the now, but feeling everything was part of being me, and I know that is ok. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t wrong. I was on an adventure, and it was so exciting. Finally, I was excited.

I’ve been in love with myself for over a year now and I have to say, it is one of the most fulfilling relationships I’ve ever been in. I do whatever I want to do. I say no to people and things I don’t want, and I’m even learning not to feel guilty for it. I make amazing candle-lit dinners for myself, I go watch the Bruins game at the bar by myself, I don’t give guys my number just because they ask for it, and I let myself be me without feeling shame for my choices or my body. I enjoy being with others, and I know when I need a friend to talk to or a person to lay with me just for a night. I have figured out how to be alone without being lonely. I think this is one of the biggest accomplishments of my life.

But here is where it gets complicated…

I love myself so much that I’m not sure that I will ever want to be with anyone ever again.

This makes the old me, sad and depressed… but I’m so happy? But is this just a state of mind that will pass? Will I get tired of being all I have? I’m having a hard time letting go of this idea that I will get married and live happily forever with someone of the opposite sex. The more I think about it, the sillier it sounds.

“Yeah I have this amazing life of complete autonomy and self-awareness, great friends, my own place, my own routine, my own life, my own freedom to be and do whatever I want… I think I’d like to fuck that up by shackling myself to someone who will always compromise all of that no matter how wonderful they might seem to be!!! Bring on the disappointment!”

Because of this, I don’t know if I’ll ever be someone’s ideal partner. Will I ever be able to give up my own freedom for someone else? Will I ever be kind, selfless, forgiving, or nurturing again? I don’t want to share. I don’t want to be told what to do and I don’t want to let anyone else make me feel unworthy, helpless, broken, or sad, ever again.

I no longer need someone else to make my life full.

So why is it so hard to let go of that picture of kissing the one I will love forever in front of our family and friends, dancing while looking longingly into their eyes because they are the only one in the room with me and eventually watching our kids play in the yard with the dog in the quiet neighborhood we live in. (Just kidding, I’m not a dog person)

I know that is only a picture of what it “should be.” But in my realistic mind I know more often than not, after the glitz and glam of the fairytale wedding and honeymoon… you realize that love was fleeting and now you see that you’re all each of you has, and it just isn’t enough, the marriage fails because there is cheating, and growing apart, and longing for a different life, so you divorce and you fight over who gets the dog (he can have it) and the house, and if you’re lucky you figure this all out before you have kids… then you’re sad and lonely and full of regret, Or worse, you stay together and live like this forever.

Yeah, that’s not pretty, or ideal, or the dream anyone had at all. But that’s the statistic, that’s the reality.

If you have a happy marriage, I envy you. If you think you truly love someone while also loving yourself to the full extent, I want to read your book.

If you can identify with anything you just read, I want to know, so we can be lonely, loveless, people together!

If you are a dog person, we can still be friends, but it seems I still don’t want to marry you (because of the love part, not the dog part.)


“Oh, Sweetie…”

“What did they mean by that?” ever find yourself asking this question?

the answer? “Probably not what you think they meant.”


So here’s the scenario: You’re talking to your mom about your recent online-dating streak and you rant a little about the beard-obsessed dude, and the guy that never texted you back after a charming first date, and if you’re like me and my mom, you tell her about the guy who asked for tit-pics and called you a bitch for ignoring him (more about this another time). After you cynically and sarcastically finish cursing the dating pool, your mom sighs heavily and says something along the lines of: “You know, you’ve always been a handful, that might be why you’re single.”

Ouch. That stings.

But you laugh it off and say something like “yeah, I know, but the right guy will be able to handle me!” (which is true) and then you change the subject or if you’re me, you’d make a joke about your double-Ds being more than a handful, and any guy’d be lucky to have you. But there is that search party for truth gearing up in the back of your mind, nagging, “Why’d she say that? Am I THAT bad? I told the guy I liked his beard, and I didn’t even get drunk or opinionated on that charming first date.”

Sucks, right?

You know those little digs, or “tips” or “oh hunny”s. You’ve heard them, and I bet it hurt worse than when you realized you were never going meet and marry Leo DiCaprio or Tom Brady. We all say them sometimes with out thinking, sometimes they are said out of concern, and meant to be a tip, or helpful hint, but they are oh, so misplaced so I have learned.

So here is another one… if you’ve ever been rejected, this one is going to bring back some terrible memories of college boyfriends and stupid crushes, so if your current mental state has been weakened lately from an endless winter and unrequited OKC likes, you might want to sit this one out….

back in college I started talking again to a guy I used to know and had a crush on in my high school days, we were always friendly and in the same circles, and after high school we just sort of didn’t ever see each other until one day something came along that changed the world forever: AIM and Facebook. So we reconnected through the interwebz and it went on for a few months and one night he had said that he was attracted to me and I was always attracted to him so I then casually told him I had been enjoying our talks and suggested that maybe we should go on a date sometime when I was back in town if he felt the same. He did not respond with “That’s nice of you to ask, but I’m not looking to date right now” or “Sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but I really just like being friends.” Hell, I would have preferred: “I can’t, I have to help my friend move, and then I have to take my dog to the vet, and my mom says I can’t date until I’m 40, also I’m moving to Australia and the time difference might be a problem.” but instead I got this:

“Heather, don’t be one of those girls who thinks too much, guys don’t like that.”

Should he have dated me? No, it’s ok to say you don’t want to date someone and I respect that, and I have even got quite good at it myself. I know now (after getting a better understanding of what college age guys want) that he was never looking for a relationship, only someone to flirt with and talk with and…other-things with. He never meant to hurt me with saying that but he did whether he knew it or not. That little sentence fucked me up worse than the 3 Twisted Teas and shot of Schnapps I used to drown that college-age misery.

Is rejection a part of life? Absolutely, and I can handle that and understand that it is inevitable and you get over it. However, his words made me feel ashamed. I was sure that I must be a crazy person and had done something wrong, that maybe he was right. Was asking someone to go on a date because we enjoyed talking and laughing together “thinking too much”? It made me feel like I was discrediting my gender. It made me feel like I was not worthy of his, or any dude’s attention. It made me feel silly for ever thinking “a guy like him would ever want a girl like me”. fucked up, right? Shit, where’s the schnapps?

I have long since then, ditched the naive, low self-esteem, no-one-will-ever-love-me mindset, and I know now that I’m fucking awesome. I don’t need a guy to tell me what I should change about myself to be more appealing to them. I know now that not everyone is looking for the same things in relationships, sex, life, love, and that is ok, heck, I even celebrate differences like that!

using that revelation to look back at that interaction, He was just disappointed that I wasn’t just DTF and had feelings that he didn’t understand and I misread his “advances” for something more romantic. That is all. nothing more, nothing less. I’m at peace with stuff like that now, and I wish I could go back and slap my hopeless-romantic self out of clouds.

I think sometimes those little sayings, and “tips” are a reflection of someone’s own insecurities and skewed perception of beauty or what is acceptable in society. (or maybe they are just jealous of your dashing good looks.)

Ladies, ever go to Char Russe or H&M and find that perfect dress or body-hugging sweater, or jeans that make you shake-it shake-it in the dressing room? Yeah you do it, don’t lie. Feels good right? Made a decision, looking good, feeling sassy, so you wear it to a family function or to your best friend’s dinner party and they say something prefaced by “oh, hunny/sweetie/guuuurl…” and it usually goes something like this: “Isn’t that kind of tight? what size did you get?… I bet it would look better in the next size up.”  I bet, instead, you heard: “Just because you lost 15 lbs doesn’t mean you’re ready for a swimsuit modeling career, damn bitch, cover yo’ shit up, you’re giving yourself too much credit!”


now, now…before you slap a bitch, you have to believe me when I say they were really trying to protect you and make you aware of how people might perceive you based on how they perceive the world.  They assume that, like themselves, you care what other people think. Your mom/sister/friend is saying that they don’t want people thinking you look “fat” or don’t respect yourself or that you have bad fashion sense (god-forbid). They said it to help. They said it hoping that you would consider SOMEONE ELSE’S opinion because that is what society tells us to do. “Be skinny, be tan, do your makeup, buy the newest clothes, dress to impress!”

It took me FOREVER to learn that most people (especially the ones you care about) don’t mean to say things in a way that leaves you mentally crumbled on the floor sobbing and looking around desperately for any remaining shards of your shattered dignity.

Is it hard not to take things personally? So hard. But is it freeing when you finally grasp the concept? 100%, life changing-ly, YES.

What is the best way to change your attitude? think before YOU speak and then see how hard it is to not say something snotty, rude, or downright assuming. We are all guilty. I’m a bitch, (really!). Sometimes its because I’m so caught up in my own feelings I forget others have feeling too.

Here it is:

The next time you feel the need to offer unsolicited fashion advice about what your friend is wearing, don’t. Or try, “Hey, I love that color on you, where’d you get it?” and the next time you want to tell your sister that she is freaking crazy and that she will die alone if she doesn’t knock off half of her 58 point checklist of the perfect husband, (even if you’re probably right, because lets face it, she’s looking for no kids, nice car, own house, good job, 6’2″, funny, smart, AND good looking and we single ladies know that he’s already married.) JUST DON’T. Instead say “It must be so hard for you to wait for the right one to come along… lets drink wine.” Then… you drink all of the wine and drunkenly Tinder.

Then maybe, just maybe, the next time your mom/sister/friend says something that makes you want to wear an over-sized burlap sack for the rest of your miserable existence as to hide any flaws you’ve been made to believe that you have, rewind, find your shake-it-shake-it place, be there, stay there. Maybe you’ll even have the courage someday to say “I like the way I look in these jeans, and sweetie, that is all that really matters to me!”

What do I know?

I’m Heather.

I’m a single, 28 year old, woman, working as a full time secretary. I am a taxpaying renter in a one person household living in NH. Those are my stats according to the US government.

According to me: I’m a sassy, cynical, educated realist, who can find the humor in any situation. I am emotional but aware. I give great advice but can’t seem to apply it in my own life. I love wine, my cat, the sound of crickets, and stupid TV dramas. I don’t like being told what to do, unless it is someone’s job to do so. I argue and love with the same level of passion. I’m inappropriate, not “lady-like”, and blunt. I don’t care if you don’t like me. I like me enough for the both of us, and if you think that is conceited or bitchy, go back to the part where I don’t care.

So without further ado, lets get into the nitty gritty here: I’m entitled to my opinions here, because I believe that out in the career and social world, you should keep most of your opinions at bay, unless someone’s opinions are also being directed at you in an offensive manner, but lets be serious here: No one likes a hostile work environment or a ruined dinner party. But this is the internet… it’s all fair game, right?

I often find myself needing to write, or hypothesize, or at least record what I see or hear on a daily basis. So, I decided to do what every “crazy bitch who has an opinion” does…

I’m writing a blog.

This is for me mostly, and, if along the way, someone finds it (somehow) and it makes them laugh, think, or click [x] with a disgusted look on their face, then that is fine too.

You will find here anecdotes, ideas, thoughts, opinions, and jokes from and about daily life that may or may not include: Dating adventures and the single world, feminist humor and insight, things people say to me, current topics and pictures I find funny, entertaining, enthralling, disgusting, terrible, or annoying. I swear sometimes, because sometimes “fuck” is the only thing appropriate to convey my feelings… I have feelings, and I will occasionally talk about my cat, the weather, and what wine I’m currently obsessed with…because I can, because ‘Murica and freedom and girl power!

But, I’m just a secretary, what do I know?