Dating

Sexy talk

Quite recently, I had a conversation with a friend about what makes good sex. And the thing we agreed on – and which is also common knowledge tbh – was that communication is key. So far, so good. But how do you get there?

I couldn’t count the numbers of articles I’ve read on that subject. I mean I’ve been reading women’s magazines for more than a decade now. And though back then, some of them passed on rather outdated views (which they of course later rectified once people reme,bered feminism), there was one general advice: Just be open about what you want and what you don’t. And in theory, that’s great advice. But what do you do if you just have no clue how to address the subject at all? Or if you only know what you don’t like? I guess no one would be happy about hearing “No, not like that.” “Not like that either.” “Stop, that’s too…” and “Well, I’m sore now.”

Also, not all people are cool and open-minded, and not everyone has had the luxury of having people appreciate when you tell them what you like/dislike or even how you feel – not even if it’s in both of your interest. I was actually surprised how much shame people can feel about what turns them on: they’re afraid of being seen as perverts or gay or simply weirdos. (Somehow I thought only women have this problem of being super self-conscious, sometimes. Which is BS of course.) Also, I have a real question here: Since most of our sexual desires somewhat stem from childhood, aren’t we all weirdos? I mean what makes one thing weird and not another?

Anyway, when we talk about sex, I think that most of us believe that unless if it’s a random hookup, it should feel special and intimate. And as cliché as it sounds, maybe sex should be something you only have with a very special someone. But then again I’m sure everyone likes to think of themselves as special – though that doesn’t mean that they’re special for you. You might just find them meeehhh, and that’s ok, too.

However, it doesn’t matter if it’s just a hookup or something more serious, I always thought that saying what you want in bed can be a little daunting. Especially when it’s more serious. (If you already know that you’re never going to see that person again, who cares?) But tbh, I find it just as daunting even if I already know it’s nothing serious and nothing that’ll last. Have you ever found in the situation where you wonder “Is pulling hair ok?”, “How rough or gentle should I be?”, Is it ok if I don’t engage in oral sex immediately?” without really daring to ask a single one of these questions? Or am I the only neurotic person here?

We only learn about sex in theory. And though everything else would be super weird (hello ancient Greece), the fact that we don’t get any practice before actually practizing it is very annoying. There’s no chance to learn how it’s done but try and error. How frustrating is that? Especially since everything you thought you knew can change completely with a different partner. Besides, all of that kinda means you also have to know what you like yourself.

Some of the articles I read gave the advice to just “show your partner” what gets you going and just masturbate in front of them. In theory, that’s no bad advice. But in reality, how many people find it creepy if you watch them sleep? So what makes watching someone masturbate any better? Besides, I would feel like something private is being turned into a show where I need to perform. And guess what, it would do absolutely nothing for me. Instead, I’d think “Can he please cum from watching me so that I can be done with this?”

Btw, while I’m writing all this, well aware that I sound like the prudest prude who hates sex, I’m actually wondering how it’s possible that my subconscious seems to focus on the guy getting off. I mean with feminism being trending, there’s also a bunch of media which state that society focusses on the desires of hetero men / male ejaculation. And I never thought that I would fall into this pattern, but apparently I do. Or otherwise I wouldn’t have this “let’s get this over with”-mentality.

Though one important point is that I’m really tired of explaining things to people. Until recently, I worked as a tutor. The last thing I wanna do after finishing work is explaining to someone how to do stuff.

So, as a solution to all this, I guess I’ll just do some name dropping and mention Kenneth Play to everyone I’m getting involved with. (As for finding out about the guys preferences, their shyness never really lastet longer than the two minutes of saying “I don’t know, maybe you’ll find that weird/gay/perverse..”) And I will continue to listen to The Prude and the Pornstar and This is Why You’re Single.

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Just blogging

“Being drunk adds value to everything else in life.”

That is by far my most favorite quote from KUWTK! You cannot imagine how much I love Khloé for saying that. As soon as I heard it, I decided: “That’s going to be my motto.” Though tbh, it’s already been my motto, I just never put it in these words.

Funnily, I started drinking kinda late. When I was 17, it was a very good year… No, I was 18, actually. But since I didn’t do the whole take shots-drink-alcopops-and-use-funnels-thing (except for 1,2 occasions), I actually learned how to appreciate wine. Especially because I lived in France during that time.

Not that we don’t appreciate drinking in Germany, we mainly just use less sophisticated beverages. Think about it: Drinking beer at 10 AM is trashy AF. But having mimosas for breakfast is perfectly acceptable. Same goes for wine vs beer at noon.

Besides learning how to appreciate wine, I also noticed that it makes everyone’s company so much more enjoyable. Therefore, I wasn’t surprised when a former boyfriend told me that his family would pretty much empty an entire cellar during one family meeting. And I could totally relate – my family does exactly the same. But it’s not only your family that gets nicer with a few more glasses. I always find myself in way more interesting conversations or situations. After all, alcohol is a social lubricant, why else would they offer it en masse on The Bachelor? Though maybe I should add that I’m very friendly when drunk, I don’t get aggressive, unless there’s a chair I can fight over. (There was one funny incident in a bar. A good friend and I were sitting at a table with 3 chairs and since the bar was still empty at that time, I just put my bag on the third chair. One bottle of wine later, some dude came over and just wanted to grab the chair without asking. So I made this huge fight out of it and ended up yelling at him. I also think my friend was terrified.)

And I rarely get sad, either. On the contrary, I’m usually a little funnier and even wittier, or maybe it just seems like it because my senses are dulled, but I think that I’m at least a little more entertaining in one way or another. I also think that wine makes me more creative. It shuts up the inner critic. That’s why I barely ever write without a glass or two. (Or three, or four, or five…) Also, even though I would never consider me a writer, I’d love to be one. And the great ones, Ernest Hemingway, Edgar Allan Poe, Truman Capote, Hunter S. Thompson weren’t known for their healthy lifestyle and their addiction to juice cleanses. Well, except grape juice.

And aren’t the crazy things you think, feel, say, do while being drunk what makes a great story?

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Just blogging

Thank you!

Friday was my birthday.

If you’ve read my previous posts, you may know that I’m getting super weird around this date, meaning that I find most kinds of human interactions overwhelming or challenging, to say the least.

Honestly, there’s not much that leaves me with as much anxiety as an upcoming birthday. In my past experiences, you have to go through annoying small talk, people you barely know are giving you hugs, you get crappy presents, and it’s pretty much expected that you invite people to cake and drinks. (WTF, why would I have to invite someone if it’s MY birthday?) The prospect of all the potential awkwardness usually makes me wanna crawl into a hole and never come back.

But this year, my birthday has been preety great – even though I didn’t plan anything at all.

So I spent my day at work, which was normal, and then, I had a walk around Cologne and did some window shopping (more or less: I did try on stuff, but was underwhelmed. So all I bought were some nice lotions, that aways makes me happy.) Also, I was SO surprised by how many people have messaged me throughout the day. It was far from what I expected.

A few years ago, I probably would have made a sarky comment about people leaving a comment/ birthday wishes after Facebook invites them to, but today, I had the feeling that all the messages I got (on and off Facebook) were truly genuine. And honestly, they made my day. I was also really happy to get back in touch with people I haven’t really spoken with lately. It was great to reconnect.
Therefore, to everyone who thought of me and sent a message: thank you so much! You don’t even know how grateful I am to have such amazing friends and “family” members in my life and I truly appreciated your messages and I loved the Skype conversations and phone calls.

Also, I was shocked to see what my roommates came up with. We’ve only lived togehter for a few months now, but somehow, they know my taste really, really well, it’s almost scary. Needless to say, it was an amazing surprise. (Though, on the other hand, I don’t think I’m that hard to please. Just give me wine and some pretty clothes. And if you throw in some skincare, I’m in heaven.)

Again, I had a wonderful birthday, so thank you for that!
(Now I only need five more of these to erase my stupid anxiety :D)

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Just blogging

When will you open up to me?

A few years ago, that was the question I was aske dby a guy I was seeing at the time. I didn’t think things would go into a serious direction, since he never gave me a reason to believe that and our dates just consisted of random hookups. Besides, we both worked at the same bar and so the stories I heard didn’t exactly convey that I could expect more than these random hookups. And then, one night, he asked me that question.

I was definitely caught off guard by that question. Especially because he would have been the last person I would have expected to ask me this. But I started thinking about it, and I still am, roughly 5 years later.

So what if I put everything on the table from the beginning? If I was completely honest? I guess it would be very entertaining if I had an audience. Because the options are pretty much the following:

  1. I hate you, but you’re unable to get non-verbal cues and also don’t understand when I’m being ironic. So in the “completely honest” scenario, instead of putting a special intonation on “Wow, tell me more.”, I would probably just say something like “That’s the worst story I’ve heard in my life” (- in my very German accent I have to say). But I also hate confrontation and I honestly see most of the things happening in my life as a part of a story that I tell other people. So if I’m on a shitty date but it has the potetnial of becoming the worst date in history, I’m staying. Just because it makes a funny story.
  2. I actually like you but I don’t wanna fuck you. That’s the boring option. It happens all the time. But somehow, people don’t seem to understand it, even though it really is nothing but DNA compatiblity, or incompability for that matter. (I’m talking about kissing someone and if feels as if it was one of your siblings. Not in a Game of Thrones- way.)
  3. I actually like you and I want to wear your skin. Slightly exaggerating here. But you get the idea. As soon as I really like someone, I’m becoming this romantic extremist who will show the same persistence in staying at your house as a roach. Not so cute.

And so, since I don’t want to come across as a crazy stalker or psychopath, I’m staying extra casual and I’ll pay attention to avoid certain topics – especially things that have to do with my family. No one needs to know how much of a nut job we all are. But I’ll also avoid talking about deliberately killing a Sims-family and having brutal fantasies about pigeons and a sharp stick, and of course your well-lotioned skin.

But then I start wondering: How would things be if I was more of a Ted Mosby? If I just told someone I very much appreciate, “I think I’m in love with you”? Besides of being fucking weird, I mean.

Tbh, If someone said that to me, I’d probably be like ” Oh thank you! – What’s your poison?” But considering that I make immediate judgements about people I don’t like, wouldn’t it also work the other way ’round?
Which leads me to my main question: Why is it scary if people are openly into you (especially if that goes without weird movie references)? Why does it seem too much if they seriously put their cards on the table? Honestly, everything would be so much easier if everyone could just say “Listen, I’m a cannibal, I want to eat you.” – “OK, cool.”/ “Yeah sorry, not my thing.”. But no, we have this different set of codes which make it seem wo much more complicated.

Like waiting for 3 days before texting. I know, it seems outdated, but that’s still a thing.
Or counting who paid for what. Seriously, what’s the point? Just bone if you want to.
Or saying certain things too early. Who makes this timeline? Why would you have to follow a schedule?

Unfortunately, I’m internalizing some of the mindsets above.

Not because I’m unaware, but because I want any potential anything last as long as it possibly can. Which apparently includes being a little phony from time to time – and making up a socially acceptable profile, even though that includes negating your love for naked cats (as well as your appreciation of well-lotioned skin).

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Just blogging

Birthday anxiety

My birthday is coming up and I’m not sure how to feel about it.

Before you think: “Oh right, another chick who can’t handle getting older.”, I don’t care about my age. I’m actually somewhat looking forward to having white hair, wearing makeup that makes me look like a crazy clown and hopefully getting a much deeper voice which doesn’t sound like it belongs to a 13-year-old. (I always wanted my voice too sound more like Scarlett Johansson’s.)

Though there have been mulitple moments where I felt that I’m failing at existing – according to societal conventions – I don’t really care anymore. The last time the thought of having to be an adult stressed me out was right before my 18th birthday. But since then, I found out that pretty much everyone sucks at adulting. Besides, my family seems to have stopped wondering if I’m a Lesbian or not ever since and I’m also starting to find people amusing who ask me about kids and marriage. I’m actually looking forward to never having kids and just spend all my (fictional) money on designer and travels, especially because I can justify all that by quoting Schopenhauer – not that I have to. And I’m almost proud of being an eternal student. You don’t find many of us anymore. These teens nowadays…. they have become so serious, urgh.

However, I do put quite some pressure on myself. Just for the story, it would be so sad if my life was mediocre. So it can either be tragic (which it is already tbh) or fucking amazing. Like spending-all-day-yachting-with-my-friends-and-drinking-champagne-amazing.
I don’t wanna be that tragic figure. (Besides, every tragic figure becomes really annoying over time, that’s why they always end up killing themselves. And I’m over that.)

So there really is no other choice than becoming great. No pressure at all.

But what I really don’t like about birthdays is being the center of attention. Well, I don’t mind being the center of attention, I just want it to be for something I deserve.

But being born is not an achievement. Neither is staying alive, even though that would make much more sense to me. (Besides, I actually like listening to the BeeGees.) But we’re not living in the 1800s anymore, where sudden infant death was a real thing. And thanks to the stigma, being mentally stable doesn’t count as an achievement either.

So I don’t really see the point of celebrating my birthday. And if it’s just for the milestones, I prefer having a party for each single one of those. Seriously, why would I wait a year if I can can get drunk immediately?

One of the first things my roommates asked me after I moved in was the date of my birthday. So apparently, they’re going to plan something.
I just hate that thought. I want to spend a normal day doing what I always do and not having to have stiff conversations around a diabetes-causing cake that’ll make me nauseous. I also don’t want to open shitty presents and smile politely while thinking about throwing this new [insert anything unnecessary/ ugly /unwanted / all of the above] in the trash or reusing it as a gift for someone I hate (or date; I just noticed how similar those two words sound).

I also think that birthdays fall under the same category as NYE. People put so much pressure on them, it has to be the best day of the year. But – surprise! – it rarely is. So you most probably end up diappointed.
The birthdays I remember were days of weird family get-togethers and food poisoning (the real one, not induced by alcohol). And of course birthdays where I felt that something special should happen, but that just wasn’t the case. Instead, they were just like any other day, or even worse.

All that is the reason why I just don’t wanna celebrate my birthday. In my opinion, birthdays are just a compilation of awkward moments. So if you want to make me a birthday present, just spare me.

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Dating

Why period sex is fucking ok

Today, I I had this long conversation about comedy with a friend. It started by him sendning me a video of some dude making jokes about having sex with women who are on their period. I wasn’t having it.

And it wasn’t about the topic, really, everyone has the right to be grossed out by whatever they want. What I found problematic was the delivery. It’s some pathetic dude claiming to be a man because he hasn’t washed his sheets in 7 months, but a drop of menstrual blood is too much for him to handle. Seriously, why does that even make a comedy routine?

If you think about it, sex in itself is pretty disgusting. All these bodily fluids getting mixed up – and I’m not even thinking of anal here. OMG. It’s just a very wet and sometimes smelly business. From a purely reasonable point of view, people would probably not have sex. Because if you take out the “I’m hormy” part, it’s just not appealing. (Those who continue to watch porn after they cum might know what I’m talking about.)
But we have hormones and shit that keep us interested in icky stuff. And in my experience, that doesn’t change for when a woman is on her period.

I know lots of men who don’t mind at all if it’s that time of the month or not. Now that I think of it, I haven’t dated a single man who had a problem with having sex while me having my period. I took it more or less for granted and sometimes, I even wished they were more like “I’ll give you a massage” instead of like “I don’t mind, we can do it anyway”. And that’s not because I didn’t like their approach, but because there was so much going on inside of me already that I didn’t need the extra action down there.

However, I always saluted their mindset. I mean a good pirate also sails the Red Sea. So I’ll take an overzealous lover over a scared one every day of the week, just because I prefer their mindset. Besides, there are so many benefits that come from it, so why not? Just because you don’t want to ruin the sheets? Lol.

Of course, everyone has the right to be grossed out by certain things. I guess period blood is not for everyone, as is having semen on your face or having anal sex (just to give some examples). But labelling period sex as gross (as that stupid comedian did) is just wrong imo. And I just hope that most people just stay open-minded in general, and won’t put degrading labels on stuff or actions or even people. Everyone should just do what and whoever whenever they want.

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Mental Health

A weight gain journey

I’ve talked about my past on the blog, including the complicated relationship I’ve had with my body since an early age (9 years, if I recall it correctly). Today’s post will not be focussed on the past, but on the goals I set for myself for this year.

Tbh, it’s not even a goal I was aware of until recently. But maybe I give you the entire picture.

So by the end of last year, I thought it was a good idea to track my habits – drinking, eating, exercising, you name it. I kept a log of everything. And before I knew it, I also lost some weight, and I was down to 54 kg (119 lbs). I remember how surprised I was about how easy that was, it felt like just a second and BOOM! six ponds less. But I also noticed that it was kinda sad. I mean I was counting my fruit intake. The last time I did that was a few yers ago when I was in completely different, unhealthy phase of my life, where I restricted myself of fruit because it contained too much sugar. But then earlier this year, there I was, counting how much fructose I was consuming per day.

The feeling of success by losing the weight I didn’t need to loose was not bad at all, I actually was kinda proud. But then I remembered how I spent my teens and how boring that was. (I seriously was the most boring teenager you can ever imagine. I didn’t drink, I didn’t date, I just went to school.) I also remembered the appointments at the doctor’s, the blood draws, the charts, the doctor’s threats – if you don’t stick to the weight gain schedule, we’ll admit you to a hospital (and everyone knows that includes intravenous treatment, which is scary AF if you’re fucked up).

So I was happy that I was still able to control my body, but at the same time, I kept asking myself “Why are you doing this?”. And so a few days after reaching the 54kg mark, I was like “Why am I doing this?”
Then I went out to get not just one but three bars of chocolate and I ate all of them. (And did not throw up.) That day, I finally got to the conclusion that life is just not as fun if you’re depriving yourself of the small pleasures all the time, and I made the commitment to myself that I would focus more on working out than on how much I eat.

So far, it’s been a good experience. My belly is a little rounder that usual, but I kinda like it. It makes me feel more sensual and womanly, which is not a bad thing at all! In addition to that, I just got more curves in general. For the first time in my life, I’ve got something like a booty, and I think it’s amazing.
Also, for the first time ever, my face looks normal. See, I have a very small frame when it comes to my bone structure. My face used to look super narrow. So having a little extra texture on my cheeks isn’t bad at all.

I don’t even know how much I weigh atm. I also couldn’t care less. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m having healthy habits when it comes to nutrition and working out. (And even if I’m working out every day – which could be looked at as some sort of pathology as well – I think it’s helping me a lot with where I’m at mentally.)

Right now, I’m enjoying the pattern of working out more in order to eat more. And I think it’s made me more easygoing and attentive to my needs.

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Dating

Some thoughts on dating

I’m finally sitting here with the glass of wine I’ve been craving since noon earlier today, I had the weirdest day and kind of started it in a bad mood. Funnily, it was thanks to my students who – let’s be honest – I usually find a little annoying, though they’re also very sweet, that my mood has tremendously improved throughout the afternoon. Anyway, today is my rest day and I’ll also watch the dramatic finale of the German version of The Bachelor later tonight, so why not have some wine to go with it? Besides, my goal for the future is becoming one of PLL’s wine moms. Though without the basement, of course. And now that I’ve written the longest and most unnecessary introduction that has ever existed since the literary era of realism, I can get to the topic I actually want to write about today. (I’m even putting it in italic letters, so if you don’t like long introductions, you can just skip it. Oh, I should have mentioned that in the beginning, my bad.)

Ok, where do I start? If I was a contestant on The Bachelor, I’d say “I feel so blindsided!!” and start sobbing pitifully. But guess that would be slightly exaggerated in my situation, because I’m talking about a two-dates situation. Though in the Bachelor world, being crushed, devastated and losing faith in humanity would totally count as an adequate reaction to not getting a third rose (not even date). Maybe I should apply after all. I mean I already like booze, pretty dresses, free travels and exposing my soul to total strangers. Oh and I wouldn’t mind getting instafamous either.

So I was texting a guy I’ve been on exactly two dates so far after I met him through an app. He actually looked like on his photos and I didn’t hate our conversations. Actually, he was not the kinda guy you’d normally see on a dating app. However, he kinda stopped texting me back not too long after that (which is never a good sign of course) and even on our second date, there were a few awkward mix-ups already. But hey, I’m somewhat optimistic sometimes and so I didn’t mind having someone asking me about playing the violin even though I’ve never touched an instrument before.

Anyway, when I sugessted that we meet up this weekend, he told me that he’s gotten serious with some other chick in the meanwhile. First of all, seriously? How serious can you get with someone in the course of two weeks? And secondly, if you started seeing her before, why even bother meeting me? Especially if she’s really, I mean REALLY awesome. But I guess everyone understands what I’m implying here.

Somewhere in between many more mean, cynical and sarky thoughts (which I won’t share here, I can be really mean in my head), I also started wondering “When is the right moment to discuss what kind of relationship you want to have with someone?”.

As I mentioned in a former blogpost, I’m not opposed to an open relationship. But I think that in order to get there, you have to have a phase of plain monogmay where you get to know each other and especially each other’s boundaries, insecurities, doubts, daddy issues etc. to well establish a certain amount of trust before inviting other people in. Imo, if you don’t do that, you’re just a horny hippie who will most probably need all the drugs you can get just to be able to go through the drama that ensues (in addition to the 17 puberties you’ll have to deal with).

But how do you bring this sort of thing up on a first or second date? When I watched Netflix’ Dating Around, I was actually shocked by how quickly they spoke about future plans and about having children. They hadn’t even had dessert yet! I can’t even describe how weirded out I’d be if that happened to me. But then on the other hand, I will never have the same clarity within the first couple of dates as the people who ask these questions.

But maybe, I like the uncertainty. See, I knew from very early on that I’m not that much of a people’s person. Mostly because I like individuals instead of people in general. I also knew from a quite early age that having a career is more important to me than having an amazing social calendar (except if the social calendar is related to my career). I highly value being independent, to the point that I can hardly imagine living with someone I’m involved with romantically and who I can’t just ignore like my roommates. I guess all these things together are part of the reason why I don’t want to have kids and even why I dislike dogs. But when it comes to dating, I’ve noticed that actually many people fit in rather stereotypical, conservative patterns. Everyone seems to be looking for something secure, a sure thing, something that has the potential of lasting forever. And marriage of course. (My only reasons to get married would be the dress and the party.)

So you can probably say that I don’t exactly convey the security of a stable lifestyle. I move all the time. (I’m not even kidding, I moved 11 times in the last 10 years.) I like putting myself first. And I hate the idea of doing the same thing or person for the next 50 years to come. To me settling down sounds like a death penalty, which I’m very much opposed to.
Instead of getting a Golden Retriever, I want to travel the world and experience things. I definitely don’t want a conservative suburban life. But maybe that’s too complicated. Maybe I should want to wear mom jeans and just be happy. Maybe I’m too difficult by wanting someone who’s adventurous but also knows what he wants instead of trying to keep all options open. Maybe I should be less difficult and lower my expectations, just as some rather simple people have told me to. And maybe I should be less career oriented and valuing family more.
Well no, that won’t happen.

I want to spend my time with someone who shares the same values and who isn’t afraid of commitment. Someone who prefers complexity over comfort. And who’s also insanely hot and smart AF of course. But then again, dating just isn’t a priority for me, even though I have to admit that I do own a copy of Matthew Hussey’s book. But I’m way more interested in communication techniques in general than in attracting guys and finding love. However, if by any chance, you’re a hot guy with great intellect, feel free to drop me a line. But only if you’re a cat person.

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Dating

10 years of dating: How my dating life has changed

Wow, I’ve been in this dating thing for 10 years now. I didn’t even realize, until I had to come up with a headline for this post. I guess that’s why I’m getting really cynical and fed up with the whole dating thing, sometimes. 10 years is A LOT. Try to measure it in wine and you’ll know how much of a lot it is, If it only was good wine, though…

I got in the dating game quite late. My teenage years were super lame, I didn’t go out much and was way more focused on school than on boys. (Which was easy, since we didn’t have any good looking or even interesting guys.)

The first time I actually “dated” someone was during my very first year in France.And so it was a French dude, of course. Though it was not really dating, but much more sneaking around. Back then, I found it exciting.

But I also think I was the lamest person to date.
I was soooo scared. And very preoccupied with consent – I was actually afraid to touch that other person. To me, it felt like an invasion of his private space, I didn’t dare to touch him.

It took me a long time to get over this sort of fear. To not being afraid of showing my affection. And still today,I’m not taking it lightly, at all.

But of course, so much has changed since my 18-year-old self. First of all, all the articles I’ve read in women’s magazines. I started reading women’s magazines at age 12, but I feel like some things became more clear the older I got. Besides, I’m pretty sure these articles are almost a subsitute to studying psychology. Just to give you an idea of how much I learned from them.

An then of course, there’s actual dating.
I won’t tell you my number, because slutshaming and stuff, but it’s safe to say that I’ve had a few opportunities to get to know dating since my early 20s.

And while my early 20s seemd to be a hot mess – I didn’t exactly stand up for myself, nor did I coomunicate my standards in a way I should have – my late 20s seem to be so much more easygoing. For the first time in life, I’m actively communicating what I want and what I don’t, I’m no longer afraid of being “difficult” or “high maintenance” or “on my period” (fuck that and the douches who would come up with that sort of statement) and I’m saying loud and clear that I enjoy watching cheesy romcoms and that I will never ever in my life watch Star Wars (or any movie taking place in space).

And it’s going really well. To the point that right now, I’m seriously thinking of how much affection is the right amount of affection. Normallly, I whouldn’t even think twice about this sort of things. But I guess my history is playing a role in this one.

Still, I’m not counting scores. I just refuse to do so, because I think0 that on an interpersonal level, counting scores doesn’t do any good to any one. And besides, there’s much more important things than some statistics on a blog.

But back to my topic: I think that our dating life has changed in a way that everything has become more strategisc. Or at least it seems like it.

If you’re into online dating: When was the last time you saw someone just hoping to get drinks, no matter how the other person would be like? Probably never.

Everyone has a goal or an ideal to go after. Normally, that’s a good thing, but on dating apps, I’d say it’s toxic – since peoplle have the tendancy to categorically rule out everything that doesn’t fit into their own belief system. And that kinda makes it quite hard to find people who think like you, even if it’s just remotely. At least, that’s my impression.

Nevertheless, I got to know someone who seems to have the same opinions and so far, we seem to agree on many topics. The only obstacle so far has been our different tastes in music. And sincethe music he likes isn’t horrible, I wouldn’t even call it an obstacle.
Everything seems so easy and I can’t help but wonder: why can’t it always be like that?

I’m also wondering: Why is this the first time that I truly feel like evethings are falling into place?
I guess the keyword here is experience. I’m no longer second guessing my every move. I’ve learned it doesn’t serve you at all. Instead, I’m just being me and only doing what feels comfortable to me. It seems like a no-brainer, but I’m pretty sure it’s not just me but many women who make it their highest priority to please others. Not a healthy approach, and also not useful when it comes to finding someone to date.

In the meanwhile, concentrating on me and what I want and need has become quite easy – and it feels pretty damn good. I just wish I could have been like that when I was a teenager, but I guess you have to go through all the bad dates in order to get there. But I guess everything happens for a reason. I just had to go through some shitty dates in order to figure out what I want and what I definitely cannot tolerate. I probably wouldn’t be at this point if my life had turned out differently. And with that being said: I’m thankful for all the experiences I’ve made so far. For the good ones, but even more for the shitty ones. They’ve made me the person I am today.

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Just blogging

To new chapters in life

Congratulations to me – I started a new job on Friday! Thanks to my addiction to social media, I was lucky enough to get recruited by an amazing company I can’t wait to work for. I don’t want to give away too many details, because you know, privacy and stuff (as if Goolge hadn’t already sold this information, I mean I got there with the help of Maps). But let me tell you, it’s big. It’s prestigious. It’s everything I’ve always wanted. And it’s scaring the crap out of me.

The last time I had a job I put high hopes into didn’t go so well. That was a year ago. And it just went horribly. I even wrote a short post about it, but since I was in the middle of a legal dispute with that company which shall not be named, I of course didn’t reveal to much information. I don’t have to explain that a lawsuit is the shittiest way to end any sort of relationship, even if it’s just professional. So having to go through this sort of experience definitely has an impact. There are definitely some positive aspects to it. First of all, there was a settlement agreement which was in my favor, But I also learned so much about our legal system and my rights. I was also reassured that being a pain in the ass sometimes really pays off, quite literally. But most of all, I learned to pay attention to contracts and fine print. And all in all, I did come out stronger of this experience. I would even say it was such an important lesson that I’m actually grateful for. How many people my age can say they have already sued someone, not to mention a company? That alone is weirdly empowering.

However, it was also a somewhat traumatizing experience. And yes, this may sound very much like first world problems, but with every new job I take, my mind also goes back to that time. And depending on the job, it gives me more or less anxiety.

Right now, my anxietey level on a scale from 1 to 10 is very much like a million. And I get constant flashbacks from this last shitty work experience.
Right now, my fear is not being up to the task. Right now, I feel like everyone puts all their hopes in me, even though I have no idea how to tackle the projects I’m already assigned to. Of course, there are people to help me, people I can ask. But that didn’t prevent a major impostor syndrome from kicking in. After just one day.

So the question I’m asking myself now is: “What could actually stop me from being successful at that job?” And my answer so far is: “Nothing, you just have to get your shit together.”

I mean on a rational level, what could go wrong? That I don’t know what people are expecting? That I won’t know if I’m doing a good job or not? Both are highly doubtable, since my company attachs great importance to giving feedback. (Something that hasn’t been the case with the company I had to sue.) Also, even though I’m the first person in my position, I’m not the first one to do all the work. I don’t have to figure stuff out by myself, There’s always someone I can ask. Also, I was not hired because of the number of followers I have on Insta, but because of my skills. And though the word “skills” kinda seems weird to me – it sounds so meaningful, but it’s nothing more than a summary of my experience – it’s definitely a better reference value than any number on social media.

So I guess I really just have to get over myself and stop second guessing. But putting in the hard work instead. (Which I’m more than willing to do, the company is just awesome!) So despite all anxiety and unnecessary stress fabricated by my brain:
Cheers to me!

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