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Friday, 25 March 2016

Dating Sucks And Charismatic Twats

Since becoming single last year, I have stuck my toe into those tepid dating pools that are full of regret, uncertainty and utter confusion.
I’ve also come to the ominous conclusion that I have a type; charismatic twat.

I never used to think that I had one, aesthetically I’ve always been interested in very unusual looking people. The only thing I can categorise really between the majority of my past conquests is that they were really skinny, almost frail looking. One ex even looks like a pensioner. Anyway, personality wise, they’ve all been quite different.

Realistically, dating isn’t at the top of my never ending list of priorities, I’m just trying to spend some time meeting new people and throwing myself out the safety zone into troubled waters now and again. It just seems so much harder now than I remember before.

Back in my formative dating years, the only people I knew on dating websites were middle aged, divorced parents who spent all their time on friends reunited trying to reignite old flames. Now we have a market aimed at our generation and more than ever, I feel the pressure is on.

When I was in a relationship, I enjoyed the idea of tinder but now after being on it for about a day every month or so it’s evident that it’s over saturated, and especially on the male side, with people that just think it’s some new-age grinder for all orientations.

I don’t really understand what goes through people’s minds when they create their profile. If I’m browsing for a prospective conquest, there is no chance in hell I’m going to like you if your picture is either of you topless, in a club holding a small bottle of vodka in one hand and a sparkler in the other, or you sat on the bonnet of a sports car which you probably came across parked behind Harrods. Someone please explain to me why men think that any woman would find that attractive? So Tinder, I’m sorry, but you’re out.

Saying that, I am on an app called Raya which is exclusively for creative types, essentially it’s Soho House but a dating app. I won’t divulge too much into it but it has been somewhat more successful for finding like-minded people.

I do have quite high standards in a sense, I’ve wasted enough time on boys with no ambition, devoid of the concept of taking responsibility for their actions because Mummy and Daddy told them they were perfect and everything they do, no matter how bad the things they do are, are good, and it can’t ever be their fault because their precious little babies just couldn’t be responsible for anything remotely negative. You guys, you’re in the bin, go and date a conformist, submissive type who resembles your Mother. So girls, if you’re into being a housewife, and that’s cool if you are, come to me, I’ve got a catalogue of names that I can hook you up with, just don’t be disappointed when you realise that you’re second best to Mummy and you hate her.

I’m assertive, ambitious, opinionated, at sometimes arrogant, and I’m intelligent. Common sense is another matter, but I’m a strong willed woman and that terrifies the men I’ve just described, which is good, because I’m not interested in them. I’m interested in Men. Men that are successful in whatever they do, that keep moving forward, that are creative, respectful and fun. Unfortunately, here we are being brought back to my biggest vice, the charismatic twat.

Oh charisma you little bastard, you are such a double edged sword. In my mind, dating a really charismatic guy is like taking some kind of hallucinogenic drug and while you think you’re floating on this cloud of warmth and exciting safety, when in reality you’ve climbed on top of a shed and jumped onto, or into, your neighbour’s rosebush. Yet that feeling of being on that cloud, it’s addictive, so you attract these guys that make you feel like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, that’s just invested for as long as he can be bothered. Typically what my friend Mandy June would call a ‘we’ll do this’ guy. We’ll go for dinner here, we’ll write this together, and you can come and do this with me whenever you want, but then suddenly they disappear and it’s as if that fire they ignited in you has just been doused by the volume of water predominantly found in a swimming pool. Every now and again they creep in unexpectedly and fuck your game up and you can’t get the little shits off your mind to the point of insanity and then they have the audacity to be like, ‘girl you mad.’ Yes I am mad, mad to be infatuated with the charismatic twats of the world that make me question myself inexplicably. We all know a charismatic twat, and we’ve all been one of those females staring at their phone waiting for them to text you back, making you feel bad about yourself because they are so wrapped up in their own existence and even though they may tick of your ideal guy boxes, they are still a charismatic twat and will make you loco, and there's just so many of them.

This is why I think dating sucks. Nobody meets each other in the flesh first, we hide behind these online personas of ourselves that really aren’t real. Behind that 150K on whatever there’s still a girl that worries about whether or not she’s going to have bad skin when she wakes up, or that she’s scared she’s not achieving enough or wondering whether or not she should shave her legs after three weeks of them being wild. The same as these charismatic twats that are so deathly insecure and conscious about how they are at all times that they have to put out this artificial charm that masks the fact they don’t know who the hell they really are.

We don’t have real conversations, we talk on first dates about the things that we do and are interested in, which is just a blanket for what’s relevant at the time. Especially within London scenes, people tend to base their worth on their popularity, or other people’s perception of it. Although beneath that surface, their worth is so much more.

I am surrounded by women that I find so empowering, that are so interesting, not just because of what they do but because of how their minds work, their truths, and their pain that they’ve experienced that’s ended up making them these incredible people. Yet because of society, and the way that social media has such an influence, they don’t see themselves as worthy of others attention because of fucking Instagram. Its madness. So when you finally sit down face to face with this guy you’ve been texting for a couple of weeks and his expression starts glazing over as soon as you start mentioning your real interests, like politics or that you really enjoy high renaissance art so much that you go to the V&A every week to look at the Raphael Cartoons and every time it nearly reduces you to tears, just realise that if this guy can’t be on your level or at least pretend to be remotely interested in something that isn’t him or his interests or if Kanye actually sends those tweets, then get out of there, not worth your time, despite how beautiful his face is.

What even is all this game playing crap? I’ve got someone in one ear telling me to text this guy first because it shows I’m assertive, and someone else in another saying to wait for him to text because otherwise it shows that you’re too keen and that he gives a shit. How about, if I want to text him, I will text him and if he doesn’t reply then he’s a bit of a bellend but now I know not to waste my time? I just don’t get it. I have not got the energy to go around chasing people, I am not 15. I don’t think I even chased people when I was 15. Unless I actually like you, but even then I shouldn’t need to.

I’m exhausted and I don’t really even want a boyfriend, I’m just bored.

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Thursday, 10 March 2016

The deafening silence of loneliness.

Recently, to put it bluntly, I've felt pretty much like a big old bag of shit. I'm not sure whether it's because of my situation, which some will know is pretty shite. Coming out of an incredibly abusive, controlling relationship to try and find freedom and be able to move on, to still being controlled and restricted in so many ways. In ways, I can move on, and am, and everything is a step in the right direction despite it feeling like a road that never ends.
Since moving back into London I've been significantly happier, to be able to see my friends and family on a daily basis and having a support network, having therapy and counselling and knowing that there's always somewhere for me to turn is invaluable.
My problem is when i'm not feeling 100% I lack motivation to do anything. All I seem to manage to be able to do is sit in bed with a multi-pack of crisps and Netflix for three days straight when I'm not with my daughter.
When I am with her, were always busy, non stop. If I'm not taking her to the park, were hanging out with friends and other people I know who have kids, or we go and have a fun day, like going to the museum or one of the farms. Then she goes to bed, and for a few hours everything's quiet, and despite her being right next to me, I'm alone again, and the silence of it all, its deafening.
I've been exploring loneliness and the correlation between it and abuse within relationships for one of the books I'm writing and if you've read this personal blog before you'll know that I've mentioned the initial loneliness you feel after a break up, but what I've read has really resonated within me and made me question myself extensively.
I'm unashamedly someone who likes being close to someone, there's nothing really wrong with that. Everyone likes being in some kind of relationship when its good. Having somebody always to talk to, who cares about you, who makes time for you just as you do them. My issue is that for the last well, nearly 4 years now really,  I've been in this toxic mess and although its been over for nearly a year, i'm still trying to figure out what the hell that relationship even was because what at the time I thought I was a part of, was the direct opposite of the reality.
During that time, my soul, my core being, that was alone, it had nobody, it didn't even have me. Locked in a box and buried about as far away as possibly in a cold and dark place. It's taking a long time but I'm slowly getting it back.

“Do you ever feel that way?"
I search for the words. "Restless. As if you haven't really met yourself yet. As is you'd passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt - 'Ah! There I Am! I've been missing that piece!' But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it."
He nods, and I think he's appeasing me. I feel stupid of having said it. It's sentimental and true, and I've revealed a part of myself I shouldn't have.
"Do you know what I think?" Kartik says at last.
"Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another.” 
― Libba BrayThe Sweet Far Thing

I met someone recently that I saw my own loneliness in. Surrounded by people constantly, them propping you up at all times, hoping you don't fall over, trying to keep you safe, when the fight you have isn't with your body, you're not trying to keep it whole. You're trying to keep your mind from fracturing further and no matter how strong they hold you or how high they lift you up, They cant hold your mind. It hurt me seeing it, and it hurt me mostly because it showed a truth within myself that I've been trying so hard to keep in denial. Maybe he liked the melancholy of it all too much, who knows.

“Why am I so anxious? And then it hits me. I'm not anxious, I'm lonely. And I'm lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be so lonely because it seems catastrophic - seeing the car just as it hits you.” 
― Augusten BurroughsDry

I don't think I necessarily want to be in a relationship, I've got to relearn what it means to be in a relationship that isn't a fucking disaster first, Whats good and whats not. Those lines were severely crossed in the last one, so much that I was so desperate to know that he loved me when the guy is incapable of loving anything. All he knew how to do was objectify everything I did and make it seem like it was normal.
It wasn't hard getting over that relationship, I felt like a dove flying out its cage and into the sky the moment I left. I guess its not hard to do that when you realise the person you were in love with was just a fragment of your imagination and didn't exist. You can't miss someone you never knew at all, let alone love them.
I'm just so in love with the idea of being in love. I'm a romantic, and I've read too much Shakespeare to want to settle with anything that isn't what I want now, but then again does Shakespearean love even exist? The true intensity of wanting to be completely at one with another. To love them just as they love you, including volatility and compromise, and support. It's a tough one.
I've come very close to getting into a relationship since I left my ex, relatively soon after we broke up, and thank GOD I didn't because its taken me so long to just work out what I need to improve within myself to make myself happy completely and solely and to be OK on my own and not at odds with every thought I ever have. I argue with myself about whether or not I can be bothered to get up and make food about 6 times an hour.
I need to let myself enjoy my life and have all these new experiences and meet new people, but learning to enjoy myself and not feel guilty about it, that's the big test. I wont get that sat in bed, getting fat and watching The Good Wife on repeat.
So to all the friends I've hidden away from, or bailed on, or have been a stressed out mood hoover around recently, call me, lets do something fun like climbing trees or taking photographs of dogs in jokes costumes.
Tonight, I for one am finally going to muster up the motivation to try and get a few more thousand words into one of the books I'm working on and listen to PJ Harvey and CocoRosie and work on a plan to get myself doing more, filling my days out, and I promise to google sexy pictures of Alan Cumming only once.
I leave you with one of the greats...

“We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and—in spite of True Romance magazines—we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely—at least, not all the time—but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness.” 
― Hunter S. ThompsonThe Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967

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