Elizabeth Miceli's Blog
April 27, 2016
NA Scavenger Hunt
Welcome to the New Adult Scavenger Hunt!
Thanks for checking out my blog! I will be hosting Sarah Zolton Arthur. Her NA novel is entitled “OTHER SIDE OF BEAUTIFUL”. I love her edgy cover and deleted scene. Below you’ll find her cover, book summary, bio, website, and her deleted scene! Most importantly, you'll find the link for where you can BUY her book!!
Along with all of the information about Sarah, you will find my lucky number, and the link to Pat Esden’s page!
Thanks for stopping at my blog and GOOD LUCK!
“May the odds be ever in your favor.” – Suzanne Collins
Buy the book here: http://sarahzoltonarthur.wix.com/sara...
BOOK SUMMARY:
Two years ago, Elle Dinninger left home for college and never looked back.
A secret nervous breakdown and an awful family were all the incentive she needed to distance herself from her past. Despite her mother's relentless efforts to drag her down, Elle has a set career path and wonderful friends, including the sexy serial dater Benton Hayes.
Benton Hayes longs for the one thing he fears most...
Aware of his reputation, which he cultivates to avoid serious relationships, he's seen how destructive--and even deadly--love can be. But he's been friends with Elle since freshman year, and wants more from the beautiful, curvy co-ed, if he can find the courage to tell her how he feels.
Elle's tormented history won't lie quietly.
She tries to move forward, but others pursue their own agendas at her expense, leaving Elle vulnerable and unable to trust anyone...even Ben, so she falls back into destructive habits.
Ben fights to help Elle overcome her fears and insecurities, but when one of her darkest secrets is revealed, he seems to pull away.
Elle is shattered and decides the only thing left to do is to disappear...
Lost in her own negative self-image and the reopening of old wounds, she can only be saved by Ben's unconditional love.
Can Ben get past his jaded views in time to make Elle see how beautiful she truly is?
Or are the star-crossed lovers destined for tragedy?
Biography:
In Sarah's world all books have kissing and end in some form of HEA. Because really, what more do you need out of life?
Website: sarahzoltonarthur.wix.com/sarahzolton...
Buy the book here: http://sarahzoltonarthur.wix.com/sara...
Her deleted scene is here:
Preface: Other Side of Beautiful
Elle
“Do you really think she’s okay to leave already, Dr. Plackard?” My mother asks while filing her nails because paying attention on my behalf takes too much effort. If this conversation was about my younger sister Dinah, there’d be genuine concern in her voice. But it’s not about
Dinah. And there's no concern. Mostly disgust.
“So long as she takes it easy. Follows the rules and checks in once a week.” The good doctor sits behind his desk, hands folded and resting in front of him. I’m sure the man has a countdown going for when he no longer has to deal with Cricket Sterling, my mother, and let’s be honest, me, ever again. Because wherever I go, she follows close behind, rubbing my nose in my mistakes like a naughty little puppy who peed on the carpet.
“But she’s leaving to Michigan for college. Should she skip college? Not like she’s smart enough to really succeed anyway. And she’s sure as hell not finding a husband. I mean look at her. What self-respecting man would want to be seen with such a dump lump of a—”
“Maybe we should avoid name calling, Ms. Sterling.” He cuts her off. Then offers, “Going away might be just what she needs.”
“But her sister and I won’t be there if something goes wrong again. I can’t take another call like that.” Concern, right? Her response sounds like concern.
“I understand—”
Cricket’s turn to cut the doctor off. Part of me waits for her to reach her hand out to me. To show some solidarity between us for once. That part is so small. Small because she finishes her thought and it’s never what I need it to be.
“No,” she demands. “I don’t think you do. I was at the Darlings of Los Angeles Dinner fundraiser when I got the call. Do you know how those other mothers looked at me?”
Poor Cricket.
What she’s had to put up with.
My eyes closed, I pinch my fingers to the bridge of my nose and breathe in one long breath, and then exhale slowly. One of the plethora of anti-anxiety techniques Dr. Plackard and his bounty of staff have drilled into me over the past few months to take the edge off. This one actually kind of works. It’s my ritual. To help me calm down. Cricket sets me on edge. I set me on edge.
Repeat ritual once.
Repeat ritual twice.
Third time’s a charm. One long breath in and exhale slowly, again. The office smells of aged mahogany and cigarette smoke. Oh, and disillusionment, if disillusionment had a smell. It’s dark, but not in color, because the room has white walls. No, this room is stained by the shadows of the damned.
Like me.
My lucky number is: 13
Pet Esden’s Host website is: http://patesden.blogspot.com
Thanks for checking out my blog! I will be hosting Sarah Zolton Arthur. Her NA novel is entitled “OTHER SIDE OF BEAUTIFUL”. I love her edgy cover and deleted scene. Below you’ll find her cover, book summary, bio, website, and her deleted scene! Most importantly, you'll find the link for where you can BUY her book!!
Along with all of the information about Sarah, you will find my lucky number, and the link to Pat Esden’s page!
Thanks for stopping at my blog and GOOD LUCK!
“May the odds be ever in your favor.” – Suzanne Collins
Buy the book here: http://sarahzoltonarthur.wix.com/sara...
BOOK SUMMARY:
Two years ago, Elle Dinninger left home for college and never looked back.
A secret nervous breakdown and an awful family were all the incentive she needed to distance herself from her past. Despite her mother's relentless efforts to drag her down, Elle has a set career path and wonderful friends, including the sexy serial dater Benton Hayes.
Benton Hayes longs for the one thing he fears most...
Aware of his reputation, which he cultivates to avoid serious relationships, he's seen how destructive--and even deadly--love can be. But he's been friends with Elle since freshman year, and wants more from the beautiful, curvy co-ed, if he can find the courage to tell her how he feels.
Elle's tormented history won't lie quietly.
She tries to move forward, but others pursue their own agendas at her expense, leaving Elle vulnerable and unable to trust anyone...even Ben, so she falls back into destructive habits.
Ben fights to help Elle overcome her fears and insecurities, but when one of her darkest secrets is revealed, he seems to pull away.
Elle is shattered and decides the only thing left to do is to disappear...
Lost in her own negative self-image and the reopening of old wounds, she can only be saved by Ben's unconditional love.
Can Ben get past his jaded views in time to make Elle see how beautiful she truly is?
Or are the star-crossed lovers destined for tragedy?
Biography:
In Sarah's world all books have kissing and end in some form of HEA. Because really, what more do you need out of life?
Website: sarahzoltonarthur.wix.com/sarahzolton...
Buy the book here: http://sarahzoltonarthur.wix.com/sara...
Her deleted scene is here:
Preface: Other Side of Beautiful
Elle
“Do you really think she’s okay to leave already, Dr. Plackard?” My mother asks while filing her nails because paying attention on my behalf takes too much effort. If this conversation was about my younger sister Dinah, there’d be genuine concern in her voice. But it’s not about
Dinah. And there's no concern. Mostly disgust.
“So long as she takes it easy. Follows the rules and checks in once a week.” The good doctor sits behind his desk, hands folded and resting in front of him. I’m sure the man has a countdown going for when he no longer has to deal with Cricket Sterling, my mother, and let’s be honest, me, ever again. Because wherever I go, she follows close behind, rubbing my nose in my mistakes like a naughty little puppy who peed on the carpet.
“But she’s leaving to Michigan for college. Should she skip college? Not like she’s smart enough to really succeed anyway. And she’s sure as hell not finding a husband. I mean look at her. What self-respecting man would want to be seen with such a dump lump of a—”
“Maybe we should avoid name calling, Ms. Sterling.” He cuts her off. Then offers, “Going away might be just what she needs.”
“But her sister and I won’t be there if something goes wrong again. I can’t take another call like that.” Concern, right? Her response sounds like concern.
“I understand—”
Cricket’s turn to cut the doctor off. Part of me waits for her to reach her hand out to me. To show some solidarity between us for once. That part is so small. Small because she finishes her thought and it’s never what I need it to be.
“No,” she demands. “I don’t think you do. I was at the Darlings of Los Angeles Dinner fundraiser when I got the call. Do you know how those other mothers looked at me?”
Poor Cricket.
What she’s had to put up with.
My eyes closed, I pinch my fingers to the bridge of my nose and breathe in one long breath, and then exhale slowly. One of the plethora of anti-anxiety techniques Dr. Plackard and his bounty of staff have drilled into me over the past few months to take the edge off. This one actually kind of works. It’s my ritual. To help me calm down. Cricket sets me on edge. I set me on edge.
Repeat ritual once.
Repeat ritual twice.
Third time’s a charm. One long breath in and exhale slowly, again. The office smells of aged mahogany and cigarette smoke. Oh, and disillusionment, if disillusionment had a smell. It’s dark, but not in color, because the room has white walls. No, this room is stained by the shadows of the damned.
Like me.
My lucky number is: 13
Pet Esden’s Host website is: http://patesden.blogspot.com
April 21, 2016
Sex Positive
When we are young girls, we are told by our parents, grandparents, sisters, aunts, uncles, and even our parent's friends that we can do anything, be anything that we want to be.
And for a long time, I believed that. I believed that I had the power and it was in my hands.
The truth is, this is really only true for men because women are constantly bombarded with conflicting issues: you can be whatever we want you to be (and we'll pay you less for what you do.) This concept has bothered me for a long time and has only become more severe as I've gotten older.
I am a free-spirit and I have always done what I've wanted despite what our society is telling me to.
Becoming a sex therapist and writing about sex and rape don't exactly go unnoticed by the people around me. Some people are shocked, others horrified, and many uncomfortable.
When I see uncomfortable faces when I mention sex but see those same people surrounded by there four kids, I can't help but laugh. They can't handle the idea of sex therapy- and yet they may be far more kinky than I am in the bedroom.
See what I'm getting at here?
I am sex positive. Sex doesn't scare me, and it never has. It doesn't make me uncomfortable or anxious or make me feel slutty if I talk about sexual health, pleasure, or even *shocker* sexual assault.
It's happening all around us, and yet we all are too frightened to take our heads out of the clouds and talk about what needs to be talked about.
If we talked about sex and didn't SHAME girls into thinking that sex is WRONG- we would be a lot healthier and a lot of girls that are sexually active wouldn't feel guilty about sleeping with someone they love. And maybe if their mothers talked to them about sex and pleasure, some girls wouldn't turn to hookups for education.
Moreover, if we didn't PROMOTE sex for men and leave girls out, we would all be living healthier lives.
I have always wondered why fathers hand condoms to their sons without hesitation but mothers whisper to daughters about abstinence. Women are socialized into believing that sex isn't natural: it's just a sin.
This is why I'm sex positive. Regardless of gender, I believe that sex is a choice, sex education is a must, and it's OKAY to want to be a sex therapist or a sex novelist. It's okay to have sex, it's okay to TALK ABOUT SEX, and it's certainly okay to acknowledge the importance of sex in our daily lives.
When I was a little girl, my mother never said to me: you can be anything you want to be when you grow up, just not a sex novelist. That never happened. So why are we telling our girls, our friends, our sisters, our friends, and our daughters that sex is unacceptable? Think about the consequences associated with telling those things to your children and your friends, think about how it affected you, and think about the future of this person's sex life.
When I think about sex, I try to remember three things:
Sex is natural. Sex is beautiful. Sex is POSITIVE.
And for a long time, I believed that. I believed that I had the power and it was in my hands.
The truth is, this is really only true for men because women are constantly bombarded with conflicting issues: you can be whatever we want you to be (and we'll pay you less for what you do.) This concept has bothered me for a long time and has only become more severe as I've gotten older.
I am a free-spirit and I have always done what I've wanted despite what our society is telling me to.
Becoming a sex therapist and writing about sex and rape don't exactly go unnoticed by the people around me. Some people are shocked, others horrified, and many uncomfortable.
When I see uncomfortable faces when I mention sex but see those same people surrounded by there four kids, I can't help but laugh. They can't handle the idea of sex therapy- and yet they may be far more kinky than I am in the bedroom.
See what I'm getting at here?
I am sex positive. Sex doesn't scare me, and it never has. It doesn't make me uncomfortable or anxious or make me feel slutty if I talk about sexual health, pleasure, or even *shocker* sexual assault.
It's happening all around us, and yet we all are too frightened to take our heads out of the clouds and talk about what needs to be talked about.
If we talked about sex and didn't SHAME girls into thinking that sex is WRONG- we would be a lot healthier and a lot of girls that are sexually active wouldn't feel guilty about sleeping with someone they love. And maybe if their mothers talked to them about sex and pleasure, some girls wouldn't turn to hookups for education.
Moreover, if we didn't PROMOTE sex for men and leave girls out, we would all be living healthier lives.
I have always wondered why fathers hand condoms to their sons without hesitation but mothers whisper to daughters about abstinence. Women are socialized into believing that sex isn't natural: it's just a sin.
This is why I'm sex positive. Regardless of gender, I believe that sex is a choice, sex education is a must, and it's OKAY to want to be a sex therapist or a sex novelist. It's okay to have sex, it's okay to TALK ABOUT SEX, and it's certainly okay to acknowledge the importance of sex in our daily lives.
When I was a little girl, my mother never said to me: you can be anything you want to be when you grow up, just not a sex novelist. That never happened. So why are we telling our girls, our friends, our sisters, our friends, and our daughters that sex is unacceptable? Think about the consequences associated with telling those things to your children and your friends, think about how it affected you, and think about the future of this person's sex life.
When I think about sex, I try to remember three things:
Sex is natural. Sex is beautiful. Sex is POSITIVE.
April 11, 2016
To Do List
My life is made up of charts.
I have an appointment book that quite literally maps out everything in my life, and that screams one thing: I have no free time.
My days have become blurs. I feel like I'm always rushing: to get somewhere, to fulfill goals, to cross off an item on my to do list. And more often than not I find myself refreshing my email, praying that I get an email from my publisher that holds good news about books I've submitted. This news, this seemingly good news, would only create less free time for me.
My life is constantly about living in the future. And although I seem to go with the flow, I have to plan or my life will basically fall apart. Without my daily planner, I would never get to work on time, I would never remember to babysit, and my deadlines for my publisher would always be sent in late.
I have had a goal in mind. I promised myself that this summer I wouldn't take classes like I always do, and I would relax for the first time ever. But, like an idiot, I have planned the shit out of my summer already. I'll be studying for the GRE, taking the GRE, sending in grad school apps, editing my books, and babysitting constantly.
I justify my plans every year and say that it's okay. I say things like, "I'll be happy when I have the paycheck!" And then I wonder why I come down with Mono, Lyme, or Bronchitis.
My life is a schedule. And it's been that way since I went off to college.
Why? Because I have goals.
My college experience has been exhausting. My life has been tiring. Living in the publishing world has been time consuming. But I have so much to show for it.
Yesterday I was talking to an old friend about her college experience. She's been doing the things that I did my freshmen year. She's constantly dating, she's partying, she's not focused on class or work. This landed her with a 2.5 GPA and a drinking problem.
Sure, my college experience wasn't typical. While some girls were drinking on Thursday nights, I was up late writing. While some boys were going to clubs on Saturdays, I was babysitting for an infant. That's not the normal? I know. But my to do list life has landed me with positive experiences and definitely taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to.
Yes, I'm exhausted and busy and don't even have time to pencil in the gym. But that's fine with me because I'm living. I'm setting goals, I'm reaching them, and I'm pushing myself.
My To-Do-List may be long, but I think it's better than a short list that only pencils in shots, red solo cups, and hookups.
I have an appointment book that quite literally maps out everything in my life, and that screams one thing: I have no free time.
My days have become blurs. I feel like I'm always rushing: to get somewhere, to fulfill goals, to cross off an item on my to do list. And more often than not I find myself refreshing my email, praying that I get an email from my publisher that holds good news about books I've submitted. This news, this seemingly good news, would only create less free time for me.
My life is constantly about living in the future. And although I seem to go with the flow, I have to plan or my life will basically fall apart. Without my daily planner, I would never get to work on time, I would never remember to babysit, and my deadlines for my publisher would always be sent in late.
I have had a goal in mind. I promised myself that this summer I wouldn't take classes like I always do, and I would relax for the first time ever. But, like an idiot, I have planned the shit out of my summer already. I'll be studying for the GRE, taking the GRE, sending in grad school apps, editing my books, and babysitting constantly.
I justify my plans every year and say that it's okay. I say things like, "I'll be happy when I have the paycheck!" And then I wonder why I come down with Mono, Lyme, or Bronchitis.
My life is a schedule. And it's been that way since I went off to college.
Why? Because I have goals.
My college experience has been exhausting. My life has been tiring. Living in the publishing world has been time consuming. But I have so much to show for it.
Yesterday I was talking to an old friend about her college experience. She's been doing the things that I did my freshmen year. She's constantly dating, she's partying, she's not focused on class or work. This landed her with a 2.5 GPA and a drinking problem.
Sure, my college experience wasn't typical. While some girls were drinking on Thursday nights, I was up late writing. While some boys were going to clubs on Saturdays, I was babysitting for an infant. That's not the normal? I know. But my to do list life has landed me with positive experiences and definitely taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to.
Yes, I'm exhausted and busy and don't even have time to pencil in the gym. But that's fine with me because I'm living. I'm setting goals, I'm reaching them, and I'm pushing myself.
My To-Do-List may be long, but I think it's better than a short list that only pencils in shots, red solo cups, and hookups.
March 7, 2016
About Time
I have always been told by family and friends that I have no conception of time. I am either 15 minutes early or a half hour behind schedule.
When it comes to relationships, everyone has opinions about the timing of how things should go. These opinions revolve around three key factors:
1. The sex
2. The relationship
3. The engagement
My parents had a quick engagement and a quicker marriage that led to more than 30 years and a beautiful family. In 1970 that was normal. People that loved each other got married, they had kids, they built a life together.
In 2016, we have different priorities. My own list of goals revolves around masters programs, book sales, and counseling practices. Right behind those goals are aspirations about family, marriage, and a beautiful home. In 2016, what is the timing supposed to look like for matters of the heart?
Do you wait years to be courted so you can focus on your career? Do you jump in and pray for the best? Do you take things step by step or do you follow your passion, and your gut?
My selection usually airs on the side of reckless. My past has flashes of quick choices that I now look back on with regret. Those choices are the reason I hold back, the reason I choose to think before I jump into love, sex, relationships.
That being said, there are other reasons I try and be cautious and slow things down in relationships. Just a few days ago someone made a comment about the quickness of my current relationship.
"It hasn't been very long," was said with an eye roll. It was then followed by, "You should be careful." When I heard it, I could feel myself filtering through my thoughts.
I paused. Maybe she's right! Maybe I am rushing into being happy; maybe I should put my guard back up.
Then a song played on the radio. Taylor Swift's "Ours" spoke exactly what I was thinking. "People throw rocks at things that shine.." is one of the realest statements I've heard in a while. The reality is people want to put you in boxes, they want to control your timing, your relationship, your happiness. And people will always tell you their opinion.
But does the timing really matter? Can you fall in love in a week? A day? A year? My answer is yes. Anything can happen. And the opinions of others can fall to the wayside. They are not apart of your love story or mine.
Going forward, I want to be reckless, free, unhinged. I don't want to hold back and put my guard up because of the opinion of others and my past.
I want to take a step back, look at what I have, and trust.
You may have opinions about this and you might even disagree, but I urge you to think about your love story, your past love stories, and your future. Does timing matter?
Is a couple married for 40 years more in love than a couple that's been together for 6 months? I'm not sure the answer. But I do know that my opinion is the only one that matters to me when dealing with my timing, my happiness, my story.
When it comes to relationships, everyone has opinions about the timing of how things should go. These opinions revolve around three key factors:
1. The sex
2. The relationship
3. The engagement
My parents had a quick engagement and a quicker marriage that led to more than 30 years and a beautiful family. In 1970 that was normal. People that loved each other got married, they had kids, they built a life together.
In 2016, we have different priorities. My own list of goals revolves around masters programs, book sales, and counseling practices. Right behind those goals are aspirations about family, marriage, and a beautiful home. In 2016, what is the timing supposed to look like for matters of the heart?
Do you wait years to be courted so you can focus on your career? Do you jump in and pray for the best? Do you take things step by step or do you follow your passion, and your gut?
My selection usually airs on the side of reckless. My past has flashes of quick choices that I now look back on with regret. Those choices are the reason I hold back, the reason I choose to think before I jump into love, sex, relationships.
That being said, there are other reasons I try and be cautious and slow things down in relationships. Just a few days ago someone made a comment about the quickness of my current relationship.
"It hasn't been very long," was said with an eye roll. It was then followed by, "You should be careful." When I heard it, I could feel myself filtering through my thoughts.
I paused. Maybe she's right! Maybe I am rushing into being happy; maybe I should put my guard back up.
Then a song played on the radio. Taylor Swift's "Ours" spoke exactly what I was thinking. "People throw rocks at things that shine.." is one of the realest statements I've heard in a while. The reality is people want to put you in boxes, they want to control your timing, your relationship, your happiness. And people will always tell you their opinion.
But does the timing really matter? Can you fall in love in a week? A day? A year? My answer is yes. Anything can happen. And the opinions of others can fall to the wayside. They are not apart of your love story or mine.
Going forward, I want to be reckless, free, unhinged. I don't want to hold back and put my guard up because of the opinion of others and my past.
I want to take a step back, look at what I have, and trust.
You may have opinions about this and you might even disagree, but I urge you to think about your love story, your past love stories, and your future. Does timing matter?
Is a couple married for 40 years more in love than a couple that's been together for 6 months? I'm not sure the answer. But I do know that my opinion is the only one that matters to me when dealing with my timing, my happiness, my story.
February 8, 2016
The Serial Monogamist
In the world of Tinder, OkCupid, Plenty of Fish, and Match, cute guys are right at our fingertips (pun intended.) We talk to countless guys about our majors, our hobbies, and we flaunt our good qualities. We only post the pictures that have our best smiles, we wear clothes that highlight our best assets, and we try to attract the right guy.
We do our best to get ourselves Mr. Perfect (who just so happens to be a doctor....)
On our way to Mr. Perfect, we sure have had some jerks along the way. From what my girls have told me and what I've dealt with myself, I could write MANY more books about the bad boy, the cheater, and the guy who never called after sex.
And yet, after these rough dates and sleepless nights, we get right back on Tinder. We subject ourselves to the bad dates, the endless tears, and the cookie dough therapy. Why? Because we still believe in love.
Who doesn't love being in love? There is nothing like the security of a relationship. I like the first dates, I enjoy the first meeting with the parents, and I like the security of having a guy to turn to. It's nice to go to someone when there's a problem, or after a bad day.
When these relationships that I invest myself in crash and burn, it's definitely hard on me. But I am a serial monogamist. I try not to let one failed attempt at love stop me from being happy and I jump right back in.
I cry for about a week, and then I head back out the town. I try not to let the sadness consume me and I focus on my goal: finding the right one. The wrong one has made his appearance more than once and at this point I am more than ready to leave him in the dust.
Tinder and Plenty of Fish have more than helped at making jumping back in easier and has led me to some great guys. You all know how it works! Text for a while, set a date, go on a few more dates, and then decide if you're ready to take the plunge back into monogamy.
But is Tinder, dating apps, and serial monogamy really helping us find Mr. Right? Was our mom right when she said to STOP texting and start meeting guys the old fashioned way: at bars or through mutual friends? Is OkCupid leading us away from the perfect man and into heartbreak?
As of right now, I'm not sure what the answers are to my own questions. But, I do know one thing is for sure. A few weeks into Tinder and Plenty of Fish will give me some answers (hopefully positive ones) and a few more experiences to share.
If I can leave any of you ladies with advice it's to follow your heart. Is Tinder totally not working for you? Delete your account. Are you coming up empty at bars? Start trying new ways to meet people. Are you ready to stop dating altogether? Then do you.
But as for me, I'll be swiping right and praying for Mr. Right. (At least until Valentines Day.)
We do our best to get ourselves Mr. Perfect (who just so happens to be a doctor....)
On our way to Mr. Perfect, we sure have had some jerks along the way. From what my girls have told me and what I've dealt with myself, I could write MANY more books about the bad boy, the cheater, and the guy who never called after sex.
And yet, after these rough dates and sleepless nights, we get right back on Tinder. We subject ourselves to the bad dates, the endless tears, and the cookie dough therapy. Why? Because we still believe in love.
Who doesn't love being in love? There is nothing like the security of a relationship. I like the first dates, I enjoy the first meeting with the parents, and I like the security of having a guy to turn to. It's nice to go to someone when there's a problem, or after a bad day.
When these relationships that I invest myself in crash and burn, it's definitely hard on me. But I am a serial monogamist. I try not to let one failed attempt at love stop me from being happy and I jump right back in.
I cry for about a week, and then I head back out the town. I try not to let the sadness consume me and I focus on my goal: finding the right one. The wrong one has made his appearance more than once and at this point I am more than ready to leave him in the dust.
Tinder and Plenty of Fish have more than helped at making jumping back in easier and has led me to some great guys. You all know how it works! Text for a while, set a date, go on a few more dates, and then decide if you're ready to take the plunge back into monogamy.
But is Tinder, dating apps, and serial monogamy really helping us find Mr. Right? Was our mom right when she said to STOP texting and start meeting guys the old fashioned way: at bars or through mutual friends? Is OkCupid leading us away from the perfect man and into heartbreak?
As of right now, I'm not sure what the answers are to my own questions. But, I do know one thing is for sure. A few weeks into Tinder and Plenty of Fish will give me some answers (hopefully positive ones) and a few more experiences to share.
If I can leave any of you ladies with advice it's to follow your heart. Is Tinder totally not working for you? Delete your account. Are you coming up empty at bars? Start trying new ways to meet people. Are you ready to stop dating altogether? Then do you.
But as for me, I'll be swiping right and praying for Mr. Right. (At least until Valentines Day.)
January 23, 2016
He's Just Not That Into Me
I have this male friend. A male friend that I have been close with on and off for YEARS. We have similar interests and (unfortunately) a similar dating life. We rush in and out of relationships all too quickly and end up picking each other up after the horrifying end.
At some point into our relationship, things shifted. There was definite flirting. I found myself in tears before he left on long trips, he was always coming to my rescue at a scary party, and there were moments of obvious chemistry. We had talked about it before, and we agreed that there could be something there eventually.
We grew older, took some time apart, and we became ourselves. He worked, and I went to school and wrote my books.
A few months ago, our friendship was in full swing again. As we started to talk more, we became very close. He was going through a hard time so I threw myself into making him feel better. I started thinking about him constantly, certain that I could make him feel better, and a large portion of my day was spent making sure that he was emotionally stable. As we became closer and I devoted more of myself to his needs, I developed stronger feelings.
This fact was pointed out to me by a friend. "Do you realize you talk about *him* a lot? Kind of cute. Sounds like he really matters to you." I realized that she was right and the reality was I DID care about him far more than I cared to admit.
So, I forced myself to open up. I was honest and told him how I felt. Originally he said that he wanted to set a date to talk about this because he didn't want to ruin our friendship. I understood that. As the date was pushed back though, I asked him to reconsider and just speak over the phone. He declined.
When he declined, I decided to take a step back. I thought that I would let him come to me for once. I wouldn't text, call or put in any effort.
When I stopped putting in effort, I NEVER heard from him.
He never once called me. He never once sent me a text. And he sure as hell didn't ask how I was doing. If I didn't reach out, we didn't have a friendship. As soon as I stopped picking up the phone, we turned into a thing of the past.
Time passed and despite the baring of my soul, he kept dating. So did I. He shared posts on Facebook about the way he was being treated, and complained about these "horrible girls" he was dating, as I waited in the wings.
When I read those posts, I always had an ache in my stomach. He wanted a wife: someone with the qualities that I have. And yet, he never saw me as an option. He never realized that if he chose me, he wouldn't get hurt.
A few nights ago, I couldn't take it anymore. I did it again. I tried to talk to him. And when he pulled back, yet again, I realized what was happening. I realized that I wasn't worth a conversation for him.
You can't change someone. You can't make someone call. You can't make a great love out of a shaky friendship. And you sure as hell can't change a man into thinking you're the priority when you are obviously just an option to him.
As Taylor Swift once sang, "I'm not a princess and this ain't a fairytale." That is the truth. I'm a firm believer in the fact that things will work out if they're supposed to. And I'm also a believer in the fact that a relationship should be TWO SIDED. I can't keep making excuses. And I cannot pretend to be okay with what happened.
Sure, we could have had something great. But is there really something great about a young, vibrant girl chasing after someone that gives her false hope, and then leaves her hanging? Is there something special about a girl that gives her all to someone that doesn't give her anything in return?
I really hope that one day soon we can move past this. Maybe we can stay friends. Maybe we can decide to go our separate ways. Or maybe even acknowledge that we do care about each other. But right now, I need a break.
I will not call him. I will not text him. Ball's in his court. I'm not exactly thrilled to be in this situation but I am happy that I have learned from this experience. I can't force something. I can't play both parts. And I can't pretend that he's into me when he isn't.
He just isn't.
At some point into our relationship, things shifted. There was definite flirting. I found myself in tears before he left on long trips, he was always coming to my rescue at a scary party, and there were moments of obvious chemistry. We had talked about it before, and we agreed that there could be something there eventually.
We grew older, took some time apart, and we became ourselves. He worked, and I went to school and wrote my books.
A few months ago, our friendship was in full swing again. As we started to talk more, we became very close. He was going through a hard time so I threw myself into making him feel better. I started thinking about him constantly, certain that I could make him feel better, and a large portion of my day was spent making sure that he was emotionally stable. As we became closer and I devoted more of myself to his needs, I developed stronger feelings.
This fact was pointed out to me by a friend. "Do you realize you talk about *him* a lot? Kind of cute. Sounds like he really matters to you." I realized that she was right and the reality was I DID care about him far more than I cared to admit.
So, I forced myself to open up. I was honest and told him how I felt. Originally he said that he wanted to set a date to talk about this because he didn't want to ruin our friendship. I understood that. As the date was pushed back though, I asked him to reconsider and just speak over the phone. He declined.
When he declined, I decided to take a step back. I thought that I would let him come to me for once. I wouldn't text, call or put in any effort.
When I stopped putting in effort, I NEVER heard from him.
He never once called me. He never once sent me a text. And he sure as hell didn't ask how I was doing. If I didn't reach out, we didn't have a friendship. As soon as I stopped picking up the phone, we turned into a thing of the past.
Time passed and despite the baring of my soul, he kept dating. So did I. He shared posts on Facebook about the way he was being treated, and complained about these "horrible girls" he was dating, as I waited in the wings.
When I read those posts, I always had an ache in my stomach. He wanted a wife: someone with the qualities that I have. And yet, he never saw me as an option. He never realized that if he chose me, he wouldn't get hurt.
A few nights ago, I couldn't take it anymore. I did it again. I tried to talk to him. And when he pulled back, yet again, I realized what was happening. I realized that I wasn't worth a conversation for him.
You can't change someone. You can't make someone call. You can't make a great love out of a shaky friendship. And you sure as hell can't change a man into thinking you're the priority when you are obviously just an option to him.
As Taylor Swift once sang, "I'm not a princess and this ain't a fairytale." That is the truth. I'm a firm believer in the fact that things will work out if they're supposed to. And I'm also a believer in the fact that a relationship should be TWO SIDED. I can't keep making excuses. And I cannot pretend to be okay with what happened.
Sure, we could have had something great. But is there really something great about a young, vibrant girl chasing after someone that gives her false hope, and then leaves her hanging? Is there something special about a girl that gives her all to someone that doesn't give her anything in return?
I really hope that one day soon we can move past this. Maybe we can stay friends. Maybe we can decide to go our separate ways. Or maybe even acknowledge that we do care about each other. But right now, I need a break.
I will not call him. I will not text him. Ball's in his court. I'm not exactly thrilled to be in this situation but I am happy that I have learned from this experience. I can't force something. I can't play both parts. And I can't pretend that he's into me when he isn't.
He just isn't.
January 3, 2016
Resolutions
Just like every year, Christmas and New Years came and went all too quickly.
We post our statuses on Facebook about how much we love everyone on Christmas, and we gab about how beautiful our years were on New Years. We post pictures that we look good in and untag the pictures of ourselves where we look like we ate too many holiday cookies.
We fake happiness, perfection, joy. Because no one wants to be honest about the realities of our year.
You would never see a status like this on Facebook:
Whelp. 2015 sucked. Started antidepressants, failed a bunch of tests, lost the love of my life. Cheers to next year!
The reality is, some of us had years like that. Maybe you struggled with dating, maybe you fought with your parents, or maybe you gained some weight. It happens. And every year can't be perfect.
I had an undeniably successful year. I wrote, I edited, I pursued everything I wanted. I was complimented almost daily about my achievements with my books. I was pushed by friends and family to even achieve more. So I continued to do so.
But, I definitely had some problems.
1. For the 80 millionth time, I dated men that it could never work with. I cried, I yelled, and it landed me at the start of 2016 kissing a man at midnight that was not exactly my boyfriend. (And no, he hasn't called.)
2. I got sick: A LOT. Mono, Lyme, Coxsackie..... The list goes on. My close friends knew about it but I basically kept it quiet. Why? Because I couldn't hear anyone else telling me WHY this had happened. (Cue the optimal question: Have you been taking care of yourself?!)
3. I lost my Grandma. It was hard, harder than just about anything. And although I seemed fine afterward, I barely grieved. And that's probably why even now I can barely talk about her without breaking down.
2015 brought me so much joy and so much happiness. But it brought me lessons too.
And now, on January 3rd, when I see everyone posting about resolutions and plans for next year- the only thing I can really conclude is that I need to SLOW DOWN. I need to let myself enjoy what's happening in my life, and stop pushing forward. Sometimes, I just need to be.
And next year I will:
1. Worry less about deadlines for my books.
2. Start writing papers when professors advise me to start. Procrastination only brings stress.
3. Stop letting negative comments affect my daily life. For every negative comment about myself, there are 5 positive ones said by people that matter far more.
4. Date men that are KIND.
5. Enjoy the milestones of my life instead of anxiously awaiting them.
What are the five things that you want to change this year?
We post our statuses on Facebook about how much we love everyone on Christmas, and we gab about how beautiful our years were on New Years. We post pictures that we look good in and untag the pictures of ourselves where we look like we ate too many holiday cookies.
We fake happiness, perfection, joy. Because no one wants to be honest about the realities of our year.
You would never see a status like this on Facebook:
Whelp. 2015 sucked. Started antidepressants, failed a bunch of tests, lost the love of my life. Cheers to next year!
The reality is, some of us had years like that. Maybe you struggled with dating, maybe you fought with your parents, or maybe you gained some weight. It happens. And every year can't be perfect.
I had an undeniably successful year. I wrote, I edited, I pursued everything I wanted. I was complimented almost daily about my achievements with my books. I was pushed by friends and family to even achieve more. So I continued to do so.
But, I definitely had some problems.
1. For the 80 millionth time, I dated men that it could never work with. I cried, I yelled, and it landed me at the start of 2016 kissing a man at midnight that was not exactly my boyfriend. (And no, he hasn't called.)
2. I got sick: A LOT. Mono, Lyme, Coxsackie..... The list goes on. My close friends knew about it but I basically kept it quiet. Why? Because I couldn't hear anyone else telling me WHY this had happened. (Cue the optimal question: Have you been taking care of yourself?!)
3. I lost my Grandma. It was hard, harder than just about anything. And although I seemed fine afterward, I barely grieved. And that's probably why even now I can barely talk about her without breaking down.
2015 brought me so much joy and so much happiness. But it brought me lessons too.
And now, on January 3rd, when I see everyone posting about resolutions and plans for next year- the only thing I can really conclude is that I need to SLOW DOWN. I need to let myself enjoy what's happening in my life, and stop pushing forward. Sometimes, I just need to be.
And next year I will:
1. Worry less about deadlines for my books.
2. Start writing papers when professors advise me to start. Procrastination only brings stress.
3. Stop letting negative comments affect my daily life. For every negative comment about myself, there are 5 positive ones said by people that matter far more.
4. Date men that are KIND.
5. Enjoy the milestones of my life instead of anxiously awaiting them.
What are the five things that you want to change this year?
November 30, 2015
Fine
When I was in high school, I was always pretending to be okay. I was always faking a smile and acting as though I was just dandy. When people asked me how I was I would put on a brave face. I was “fine, just fine. Tired. But fine!” I grew accustomed to saying those things and after a while it became second nature. Years later, I still do the same things in relationships.
If I’m being totally honest, I would describe myself as: oversensitive, anxious, emotional, impassioned, optimistic, and empathetic.
In relationships, I try to turn into perfect Liz: she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t show her feelings, and she definitely doesn’t say “I love you” first.
I turn my true traits off as if they were never there in the first place. If I’m upset, I smile. If I don’t want him to leave, I tell him to go. If I know exactly how I’m feeling, I tell him I’m not sure. *Cue What Do You Mean by Justin Bieber.*
I do that because past relationships have undermined the crier, the hopeless romantic, the girl who really believes in love and marriage. And I convinced myself a long time ago, after the first “you’re way too emotional for me,” that that girl, the girl that’s brutally honest about how she’s really feeling, gets hurt. She just does.
After a seemingly perfect Thanksgiving break that ended in plane rides and long distance, I found myself acting like my real self behind closed doors. Obviously that included bingeing on Peanut Butter Cups, watching endless amounts of Gilmore Girls, and running to my Twilight books for support.
My genuine friends knew that this would happen. They just knew that this kind of relationship was too much for me. Too much for the sentimental, attached, frightened by change and uncontrollable situations version of myself. So obviously, a long distance love affair was just asking for trouble.
When I sat down today though after class, tears and pajamas nowhere to be found, I started to think about who I really am, the kind of person I am in a relationship, and what I can and cannot handle.
After writing for a while, I came up with a few conclusions:
I am:
A crier. I can’t deny that. I am afraid of the dark (and obviously the boogy man……… And spiders and mice and squirrels and horses and a whole slew of other random objects.) But if someone can’t acknowledge the good things about being sensitive, what does that say about them?
And I urge men that don't like sensitivity to answer these three questions:
• Do they want a woman who isn’t sensitive to raise children?
• Do they want a woman who isn’t sensitive to be there for them when they're upset?
• Do they want to be in a relationship with a god-damn stone? Or were they really just looking for a relationship with someone of the same sex? (I do not have the characteristics of a dude, damn it.)
After writing the list, I realized a few things. First of all, I've dealt with A LOT of problems in past relationships. It's okay to want to put a guard up as a result. But I shouldn't fake a smile, I can’t pretend to be fine, and I definitely can’t act as though I’m not emotionally invested when I am. That's not genuine and honest.
In the relationship I’m in now my mind is constantly racing. I'd be lying if I said that I always felt great about being far away from each other. And for the first time in a while, I realized that it's okay to tell him that. Because if I act like myself and the guy doesn't respond well, is he really compatible with me in the first place?
If I’m being totally honest, I would describe myself as: oversensitive, anxious, emotional, impassioned, optimistic, and empathetic.
In relationships, I try to turn into perfect Liz: she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t show her feelings, and she definitely doesn’t say “I love you” first.
I turn my true traits off as if they were never there in the first place. If I’m upset, I smile. If I don’t want him to leave, I tell him to go. If I know exactly how I’m feeling, I tell him I’m not sure. *Cue What Do You Mean by Justin Bieber.*
I do that because past relationships have undermined the crier, the hopeless romantic, the girl who really believes in love and marriage. And I convinced myself a long time ago, after the first “you’re way too emotional for me,” that that girl, the girl that’s brutally honest about how she’s really feeling, gets hurt. She just does.
After a seemingly perfect Thanksgiving break that ended in plane rides and long distance, I found myself acting like my real self behind closed doors. Obviously that included bingeing on Peanut Butter Cups, watching endless amounts of Gilmore Girls, and running to my Twilight books for support.
My genuine friends knew that this would happen. They just knew that this kind of relationship was too much for me. Too much for the sentimental, attached, frightened by change and uncontrollable situations version of myself. So obviously, a long distance love affair was just asking for trouble.
When I sat down today though after class, tears and pajamas nowhere to be found, I started to think about who I really am, the kind of person I am in a relationship, and what I can and cannot handle.
After writing for a while, I came up with a few conclusions:
I am:
A crier. I can’t deny that. I am afraid of the dark (and obviously the boogy man……… And spiders and mice and squirrels and horses and a whole slew of other random objects.) But if someone can’t acknowledge the good things about being sensitive, what does that say about them?
And I urge men that don't like sensitivity to answer these three questions:
• Do they want a woman who isn’t sensitive to raise children?
• Do they want a woman who isn’t sensitive to be there for them when they're upset?
• Do they want to be in a relationship with a god-damn stone? Or were they really just looking for a relationship with someone of the same sex? (I do not have the characteristics of a dude, damn it.)
After writing the list, I realized a few things. First of all, I've dealt with A LOT of problems in past relationships. It's okay to want to put a guard up as a result. But I shouldn't fake a smile, I can’t pretend to be fine, and I definitely can’t act as though I’m not emotionally invested when I am. That's not genuine and honest.
In the relationship I’m in now my mind is constantly racing. I'd be lying if I said that I always felt great about being far away from each other. And for the first time in a while, I realized that it's okay to tell him that. Because if I act like myself and the guy doesn't respond well, is he really compatible with me in the first place?
October 30, 2015
Trick.... Or Treat?
I vividly remember going out on Halloween when I was a kid. I would take hours to get ready, perfectly prepare my Belle costume, and my older sisters would do my makeup. My friends and I would patiently wait for 6 o'clock to roll around, and would we'd wander out into the night clutching onto our parents.
Tonight, in preparation for #Halloweekend2015 I know that some things have changed.
Yes, I will prepare my costume, my makeup, and will be going out at night with my closest friend. But, there will be no candy involved, I will most definitely be doing my own makeup, and at 6 o'clock I'll still be in pajamas. (The party starts at midnight, people.)
Halloween is not what it used to be. It's no longer about the candy or the costume. Halloween is about dating, drugs, and drinks. And everyone above the age of 16 knows it.
Am I guilty of conforming to the new Halloween? Obviously. Halloween is one of the funnest holidays out there. Last Halloween landed me in the arms of a handsome man and surrounded by a bunch of friends that I genuinely liked. That part of it is great: being social is important. But does being social mean we have to have a "rager" every Halloween full of biceps, binge-drinking, and boobs?
Halloween has turned into a trick and is yet another night that women are being over-sexualized. Halloween has expectations: women should wear a slutty costume, the should drink (A LOT), and they should definitely be getting a bro at the party laid.
So is this really a treat for us, ladies?
Is walking around in a playboy bunny costume while seriously intoxicated what this holiday is all about?
Tonight, as Hocus Pocus plays in the background, I will get ready with the girls. We'll put on costumes that our mothers probably wouldn't approve of and probably make choices that will make our heads hurt in the morning.
I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you I won't do that.
But, being that I am not going into this Halloween looking for a man, I definitely wondered what the point was of dressing up. It isn't something I should be supporting and spending my time doing. I know that and I know that all the girls I see tonight know that as well. But will that change anything? Probably not.
Maybe all of the women going out tonight in their cat costumes genuinely like their outfits and aren't going out in them for the attention of the male party-goers. But maybe, just maybe, they are going out for that reason and that reason only. And what does that say about us if that's the truth?
Tonight, in preparation for #Halloweekend2015 I know that some things have changed.
Yes, I will prepare my costume, my makeup, and will be going out at night with my closest friend. But, there will be no candy involved, I will most definitely be doing my own makeup, and at 6 o'clock I'll still be in pajamas. (The party starts at midnight, people.)
Halloween is not what it used to be. It's no longer about the candy or the costume. Halloween is about dating, drugs, and drinks. And everyone above the age of 16 knows it.
Am I guilty of conforming to the new Halloween? Obviously. Halloween is one of the funnest holidays out there. Last Halloween landed me in the arms of a handsome man and surrounded by a bunch of friends that I genuinely liked. That part of it is great: being social is important. But does being social mean we have to have a "rager" every Halloween full of biceps, binge-drinking, and boobs?
Halloween has turned into a trick and is yet another night that women are being over-sexualized. Halloween has expectations: women should wear a slutty costume, the should drink (A LOT), and they should definitely be getting a bro at the party laid.
So is this really a treat for us, ladies?
Is walking around in a playboy bunny costume while seriously intoxicated what this holiday is all about?
Tonight, as Hocus Pocus plays in the background, I will get ready with the girls. We'll put on costumes that our mothers probably wouldn't approve of and probably make choices that will make our heads hurt in the morning.
I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you I won't do that.
But, being that I am not going into this Halloween looking for a man, I definitely wondered what the point was of dressing up. It isn't something I should be supporting and spending my time doing. I know that and I know that all the girls I see tonight know that as well. But will that change anything? Probably not.
Maybe all of the women going out tonight in their cat costumes genuinely like their outfits and aren't going out in them for the attention of the male party-goers. But maybe, just maybe, they are going out for that reason and that reason only. And what does that say about us if that's the truth?
October 15, 2015
Cautionary Tales
Since I was a young girl, I have heard story after story about the “BAD” guy. The guy that sweeps you off your feet and leaves as soon as you sleep with him. The guy that promises he loves you and then cheats on you with your best friend. The guy that will know how to pick you up but also know how to let you down.
These tales are passed down from generation to generation, and us girls are taught by our mothers, sisters, friends, aunts, and literally anyone whose ever dated a man that guys cannot be trusted.
But is that really true? Should we really be judging the entire male population based on these awful cautionary tales? Should these stories lead us to mistrust the good guys, and close ourselves off to love? Should your friend’s bad experience really affect yours?
I started thinking about this yesterday when a friend of mine was telling me about her fabulous boyfriend. She looked to me, seemingly anxious, and explained that she genuinely couldn’t believe how in love she was. She continued and told me that she was praying every night that he was the one for her and it really would work out. (As if it wasn't absolutely perfect already!)
When she told me this, I realized just how much women question what we have. Even when we have everything we’ve ever wanted, are we happy? Do we challenge everything that guys do because of these cautionary tales and our past experiences?
I know I do.
Right now, I’m over the moon. I’m genuinely excited about a new flame. On paper, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted. He’s exactly my type, treats me with the utmost respect, and he makes even my worst days feel lighter somehow. Am I also terrified of it not working out? Abso-fuckin’-lutely.
I’m terrified because poor relationships are all I’ve ever known. Most of them ended in heartbreak and landed me in bed, with a carton of ice cream, and in a puddle of tears.
Right now, it feels like I’m about to skydive. I’m in the plane, my parachute is secure, and I have the training I need to make the jump. But I’m looking down at the landscape and I’m imagining all that can go wrong.
Chances are I will be fine if I jump. Yes, there’s risk. But it’s minimal. If I choose to stay in the plane, I will regret it. I will look back on this moment and know that I missed a life changing opportunity. Right now, I know that I will look back on this dating option with same type of regret than if I was skydiving. I would look back knowing that I missed the opportunity for love and friendship.
Of course I’m scared. (More like terrified.) I wish I had a manual that told me exactly how to navigate this situation, and how to make dating work perfectly. I may be a romance author and a serial monogamist but that doesn’t make me an expert in the male mind. If I was an expert, maybe I’d be risking a little less by putting my heart out there.
But anything worthwhile has a little risk and being scared isn’t something that will stop me from finding what I want and what I deserve. And I definitely will not let it affect the possibility of finding happiness.
These tales are passed down from generation to generation, and us girls are taught by our mothers, sisters, friends, aunts, and literally anyone whose ever dated a man that guys cannot be trusted.
But is that really true? Should we really be judging the entire male population based on these awful cautionary tales? Should these stories lead us to mistrust the good guys, and close ourselves off to love? Should your friend’s bad experience really affect yours?
I started thinking about this yesterday when a friend of mine was telling me about her fabulous boyfriend. She looked to me, seemingly anxious, and explained that she genuinely couldn’t believe how in love she was. She continued and told me that she was praying every night that he was the one for her and it really would work out. (As if it wasn't absolutely perfect already!)
When she told me this, I realized just how much women question what we have. Even when we have everything we’ve ever wanted, are we happy? Do we challenge everything that guys do because of these cautionary tales and our past experiences?
I know I do.
Right now, I’m over the moon. I’m genuinely excited about a new flame. On paper, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted. He’s exactly my type, treats me with the utmost respect, and he makes even my worst days feel lighter somehow. Am I also terrified of it not working out? Abso-fuckin’-lutely.
I’m terrified because poor relationships are all I’ve ever known. Most of them ended in heartbreak and landed me in bed, with a carton of ice cream, and in a puddle of tears.
Right now, it feels like I’m about to skydive. I’m in the plane, my parachute is secure, and I have the training I need to make the jump. But I’m looking down at the landscape and I’m imagining all that can go wrong.
Chances are I will be fine if I jump. Yes, there’s risk. But it’s minimal. If I choose to stay in the plane, I will regret it. I will look back on this moment and know that I missed a life changing opportunity. Right now, I know that I will look back on this dating option with same type of regret than if I was skydiving. I would look back knowing that I missed the opportunity for love and friendship.
Of course I’m scared. (More like terrified.) I wish I had a manual that told me exactly how to navigate this situation, and how to make dating work perfectly. I may be a romance author and a serial monogamist but that doesn’t make me an expert in the male mind. If I was an expert, maybe I’d be risking a little less by putting my heart out there.
But anything worthwhile has a little risk and being scared isn’t something that will stop me from finding what I want and what I deserve. And I definitely will not let it affect the possibility of finding happiness.
