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Oh Paris, la ville la plus charmante du monde!! <3
Thanks, conscience!
Good morning all, Just before waking up I had a dream that I had sex with Jesse Williams (aka Jackson Avery) - the beautiful god of a man from Grey's Anatomy. He was so sexy the way he held me and whispered in my ear (before the sex, of course). I caved - we drove to his apartment (he said I couldn't go into an on-call room cause I wasn't a doctor) and this is where you're now expecting delicious juicy details! Well, WRONG! The whole time, my dream self was feeling very guilty and apprehensive about going through with it, seeing as I'm engaged and all. But who can resist those abs, and the blue eyes, and his big tender lips. I'm only human, after all! So we went into his apartment and...my dream censored the sex!!! We had it, it was definitely implied, but that's all I got. In my dream, the excuse for me not remembering it was that I felt so guilty my brain blocked it out...So, I had sex with one of the most beautiful men in the world, and I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER IT!!!!!! Now tell me, what's the point if having a dirty and potentially very sexy dream if your conscience plagues you the whole time and you don't remember it?!? :(
We teach females that in relationships, compromise is what women do. We raise girls to see each other as competitors, not for jobs or for accomplishments— which I think can be a good thing— but for the attention of men. We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are. If we have sons, we don’t mind knowing about our sons’ girlfriends, but our daughters boyfriends? ‘God forbid!’ But of course when the time is right, we expect those girls to bring back the perfect man to be their husband. We police girls, we praise girls for virginity, but we don’t praise boys for virginity. And it’s always made me wonder how exactly this is supposed to work out because *laughs* the loss of virginity is usually a process that involves *laughs*… We teach girls shame. ‘Close your legs!’ ‘Cover yourself!’ We make them feel as though by being born female, they are already guilty of something. And so, girls grow up to be women who cannot say they have desire. They grow up to be women who silence themselves. They grow up to be women who cannot say what they truly think. And they grow up—and this is the worst thing we do to girls—they grow up to be women who have turned pretense into an artform.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, TedxEuston (x)
So long
Hello everyone! Long hiatus, I guess. I’ve been planning on writing a lot of things but have kept putting it off (they’re coming eventually, don’t worry!) However, I just had to write today because of something I stumbled upon thanks to Facebook.
As a preface, I should say that I’m engaged (to some I’m married [kind of complicated to explain]) to the man I don’t want to spend life without. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better guy! I am happier than I could have imagined, and I hope that this happiness continues!
But I’m not writing about this man today.
I’m writing about the first guy I loved a few years back. I’m sure you guys have read posts inspired by him. Anyways, it’s been a while since we talked. *side note: We had had an agreement that we would meet new people in college, but the plan was, assuming we didn’t fall in love with someone else, we’d get together when we finished. Ha. Naive, much? Anyways, I met my guy two years ago almost (and for all I knew, we would be out of each other’s lives at the end of his exchange semester) and my ex was in France. Once he found out, that was pretty much the end of our friendship (we were good friends, I forgot to mention).* Today, thank you Facebook, I saw that he has a girlfriend (or so that’s what his profile picture and further creeping led me to believe.) And he’s in med school doing what he had always dreamed of. I saw that picture of them, and I was so truly happy for him. I wanted him to find a love like the one I have with my dude. I wanted him to be (using a French word) comblé. This word means “filled" I can’t really translate it. But to me, it means fulfilled and so much more. I smiled from the heart when I saw that picture. It was a beautiful thing to see!
However, after that, I couldn’t stop thinking about that picture and the guy in it. Who was he anymore even? Did he still do the same stuff and say the same things as when I knew him just a few years ago? Did she make him as happy as he should be made? How was he doing, for that matter? Then I got sad. Rather, nostalgic. That’s a better word. Nostalgic because of all the memories we had together, and the friendship that meant so much to me. I couldn’t help think of Gotye’s song. That’s what he was to me. Somebody that I used to know.
It all ended so abruptly with us. So suddenly and so coldly (on his part - trust me, I HAVE tried time and time again (until realizing the futility of my efforts) to talk to him and make amends (for what - not sure). But that was it. And I guess that is it. Despite the fact I would really like to just talk to him about everything that happened and our lives one last time.
That’s when I realized the life lesson: you lose people you never thought would be out of your lives. People you thought you could hold on to. And even though you want to control the situation, you can’t. You have to let them live their lives, and you have to live yours. You have to let go. And this isn’t me saying that I am still in love with him and want him back. That’s not what I need to let go of. I, and we all, I’m sure, need to let go of thinking….well I don’t know how to word this. We need to let go of what happens and what doesn’t happen. I need this final closure, two years later. But I can’t get it. And I need to let go of that. As much as we would like to believe that resilience and waiting pays off, sometimes it doesn’t. If one day he contacts me, then that’s great. But until then, I have to accept what it is. It’s really a simple truth. But so much harder to fulfill.
I’m happy with my life. And I hope he’s happy with his. But I won’t know because I am no longer a part of it. It is what it is. We were young and in love, and we were great friends. We’re not anymore. I have to let go. We all do. So, farewell to you, dear friend - know that you’ll always have a place in my heart.
ready for dinner!
look familiar?
NEW BLOG
sydneyinfrance.tumblr.com !
Allez-y!
I miss seeing your posts... hope everything's okay. - Helen
hi! my goodness i had been thinking about posting stuff lately but i've been so busy with school. stuff will come eventually. but it's good to know someone liked reading my posts :)
thanks!
Fair weather friends
Unless one has hermitic tendencies, friends are usually a big part of one's life.
However, just because one has friends does not assure that these friends are real, if at all. Sometimes, the friends don't seem to pay much interest to the friendship, but rather to themselves. As if having a "friend" is a nice commodity, an accessory, something to pass the time with.
I believe that there are the "real friends" and then the "friends" who use you to their convenience. I don't actually think friends are worth having unless they are in the "real" category.
So here's the pickle - do you remain a good friend to those crappy friends, or do you succumb to their level? Because when you do, you're no better than them. If you're going to have a friend, it should be a real friend, and you should treat him/her like one.
Is it better to be the bigger person, and the better good friend, even if it means being walked all over, not being appreciated. Or is it wiser to just be superficial and selfish like them.
Because if you're superficial and selfish like them, I think there comes a point in time where you forget how to actually be a real friend.
So remain a real friend, even to those who don't treat you like one, and thus be the better person. The genuine one. Or be the bad friend, just like the other, and call each other best friends after two weeks of knowing each other, because that way at least you're not pulling your back out to be sincere.
Rosie
Eleanor Roosevelt said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."
It's quite the inspirational quote, wouldn't you say? The only problem is that reading it makes one believe that it's easy to do. "No, I do not consent to having you make me feel inferior. That is all."
Really, Eleanor, who can really do that?
Maybe it takes some extreme self-love and self-assurance to be able to do that.
While it's a difficult thing to achieve, I think it would do more damage to not try to be the dispenser of content rather than to try it. After all, everybody knows that sticks and stones may break bones, but words also hurt.
Here's to trying to not let the words hurt!
My long distance relationship had a rough patch at around months 7 and 8 and it was all because of communication. It's quite literally all we have to work with for months at a time, so we were forced to fix it. It takes loads of humility and self-awareness. Step back and think about what it is you need and want. If it's him, don't forget that. Let him know and try making a decision together to work through it.
I hope that's not too vague! Let me know if it is or if you need any more advice. I'm no expert (duh), but I think I can help at least a little.
Why, hello there...
Hi everyone! Sorry it's been so long. I'm studying abroad in Germany and have been completely overwhelmed. Even the blog I have about my stay in Germany hasn't seen much action. (sydneybronte02.tumblr.com)
I just wanted to talk about something that's been on my mind lately. I could write it in my diary, but the fact that I know this way I have an audience, and that I have people who can give me feedback, thoughts, and their own stories is a little more motivating than a non-cooperative diary...
So I'm 9 months into my relationship (almost 10 actually) and I must say...
It hasn't been easy.
The first four months were swell. Nothing in the world mattered more, and nothing in the world made me happier. Starting at around month 6, it got a lot harder, and a lot less fun. I've learned a lot about how to be in a relationship, although if you asked me for advice, I could probably only tell you what NOT to do.
Don't mis-communicate. That seems to be the biggest problem we're facing. It's such a simple thing that can completely mess things up. And you'd think by now we would have learned how to do it, right?
"Hey, I want the night to myself." "Hey, I need some time off." "Hey, what do you want to do this evening?" "Hey, I want to eat this for dinner." "Hey, I was thinking that..." "Hey, I want to spend some more time with you." "Hey, you really hurt my feelings when you said that." "Hey, you look fat in that." "Hey, your breath stinks, please take a chewing gum." "Hey, I'm a little bit unhappy right now." "Hey, you've made me mad." "Hey, I'm not in the mood to have sex right now." "Hey..."
I think you get the gist.
That's how it should go. However, the majority of the time it goes a little more like this:
"Yea, you can sleep over if you want." "No, there's no problem, really." "It's okay." "I guess..." "It doesn't matter to me. What do you want?" "Only if you want to..." "I don't know, you tell me." "I asked you first." "No, really, it's okay." "Yea, that looks nice." "There's nothing wrong." "Yea, why not..."
I think you get the gist, again.
It's just the constant misunderstanding or lack of talking that affects us so much. Once this vicious cycle is started it just begins to spin faster and faster. It takes some balls and a subdued pride to finally stop it and just say what you want. But by that point it can be too late and you can be too annoyed to want to talk to each other. Or worse.
So that's the first difficulty. The next one comes with knowing how to separate your lives. Just because you're in love doesn't mean that your life has to become one. You can and most definitely should live your own individual lives. The problem is knowing when and where to draw the line. Don't draw it too far. Don't draw it too close. Don't draw it too late.
You have to need someone because you love them, not love them because you need them. It took me a while to realize what that meant. My first thought was that the concept of loving someone because you need them was ridiculous, but the more it was explained to me, the more I realized what it mean. If you love someone because you need them, then you love them solely for the fact that they complete you, they make you feel better about yourself. Thus you need them and consequently love them. On the other hand, when you need someone because you love them...Well, it's kind of self-explanatory that one, no?
Thoughts? Opinions?
Bis bald, Tumblr world.
It's crazy how in love with my boyfriend I am.
He's sleeping next to me and I looked over at his hands and couldn't believe how beautiful I thought his fingers were. His fingers of all things! He's so perfect.
Have a good day
We've always been told to tell people to have a good day. It's polite. And most of the time it's an empty rushed "have a good day" while you've already begun walking away. It doesn't seem to mean anything at all most of the time. But you'd be surprised to know that sometimes those four little words can make a significant difference in someone's day. I've been in a bad place emotionally for a few days, and it seems that for that while, there have been people who've wished me a good day, a great day, and simply a better day. Whether or not it's sincere I don't know. But I do know that it makes me feel a little bit better about everything, especially because it feels like someone else cares. So, have a good day, everybody!
Surrogate Mothers
You know that lesson we learn in psychology classes about humans and animals needing physical contact with another being to become and remain emotionally healthy? The experiment is along the lines of a baby chimp (or monkey - I don't really know the difference) being in a room with two dummies holding bottles of milk. One is cold and metal, and the other is fuzzy. The monkey goes for the fuzzy monkey and stays there, obviously more comfortable than with the cold dead-like metal one.
I was reminded of this experiment today when I held my teddy bear. I've had him (Truffles) for 20 years, and whenever I need some comfort, he can provide it (assuming human contact is out of the question). I realized that everyone at one point or another has had a fuzzy buddy they go to for comfort, and not until today did I realize why. It's because we're like the little chimp. We'd rather have something fuzzy and kind of life-life than anything else.
Renaissance Poetry
Quick jot of thoughts -
In my French class we've been reading Renaissance poetry and so far, the only theme that I've found in it all is the meaninglessness of life. Basically what they say is that we are born to die, and that pleasures and problems, and everything that comes in life, is for nothing. In the end we wind up as the same thing - a muddy collection of bones underground. Some talk about how Paradise in the heavens is better than living on Earth and others say that we waste away and break like everything else in this life, with no hope of return or salvation.
Now I have all these weird ideas in my head about life and living. I can't grasp them just yet, but there is some major stuff happening in my mind right now. I'll let you know when I figure it out - if ever. Thought - What if my purpose in life is to figure out the meaning in life, and then at the end of the road figure out there was no meaning or purpose, and I just wasted away my years trying to find it. Oh fuck.
Climb into my mouth now
Kissing.
It's a universal theme.
Everyone does it.
Everyone dreams of doing it.
Everyone lives to do it.
A life without kissing is a sad, dry life indeed.
There's something about kissing.
Something secret, something intimate, something so incredibly sexy about kissing.
It starts with a look. A hungry look in the eyes.
It makes you catch your breath. Your heart starts to quicken.
You move closer, feeling them breathing warmth on your face.
Then your lips touch, and you release the breath you didn't even realize was being held.
And you're kissing. It's wet, and it's warm, and it's a secret world of your mouths together. Pressed into each other.
Noses rubbing. Hands touching. Hearts racing.
Tongues glide along each other and lips are bitten.
It can last seconds.
It can last hours.
It's a kiss, and it's absolutely delicious.