I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why no one wants to try to be my friend.
And I feel like all I do is try and try.
And I’m so done trying.
I thought by moving so far away, I would make new friends. But I’m not. And it’s so fucking frustrating.
Everyone else is making friends but me. And I hate it. More than anything.
I wish I knew how to change myself.
I know I’ve been MIA for a long time. I haven’t had adequate internet access to be able to post. And a lot of things have been happening. So, I will just going through it all in the next few posts.
Tagged with #rachaelrnr #sex #sexuality #feminism #double standard #sexual freedom
Lately, I’ve noticed a lot of posts on my dashboard about the new Feminist movement about slut-shaming. We shouldn’t make a woman feel bad because she feels sexually free and liberated. That there’s a double standard of the opinion between how many partners a woman has and how many partners a man has.
I grew up Catholic. I grew up believing we should be chaste and virgins until we get married. If we express any sexuality, we will be condemned to Hell. But it seemed as though this was only applied to women, not men.
I always thought it’s because it shows that women are better than men by being able to control their sexual fires. I didn’t realize that it’s because the media has tricked us into believing we are less than men if we express our sexuality.
My Catholic upbringing definitely followed me as I got older. I thought a woman was dirty if she had several sexual partners. I thought sex was something that only married adults do.
My secret though? I was fighting my own sexual urges. I felt bad for wanting to do something natural. And I was judging other women because they were liberated enough to do it. I’m still fighting myself about it. Maybe that’s why I don’t enjoy sex as much as I’d like.
In my 2003 Webster Dictionary, the definition of slut is: “1. a dirty, slovenly woman. 2. a sexually promiscuous woman: a derogatory term.” On their website, which should be updated at all times, the definition of slut is: “a slovenly woman. a promiscuous woman.”
Ten years. How in ten years has the definition not changed. Why are women sluts and men studs.
Men get to walk away from a sexual encounter feeling like he won a prize while women walk away like they lost their pride. 1 letter off makes the difference when it comes to sex between man and woman.
I feel that women can’t play both sides of the fence when it comes to this sexual movement. Why can’t I be a prude and yet root for the women who aren’t? It’s either we’re against it or a part of it. And personally, I still think sex is gross and I don’t want anyone participating in it. Men, women, what have you.
I know I “can” really. But it feels like I’m not doing my part in the movement if I don’t participate in it.
But I must say. This is extremely empowering as a woman. Even though it’s still not mainstream that men and women are the same when it comes to sex. It’s quite liberating. Knowing you can have sex and that it’s not something hush hush anymore. Should definitely be done behind closed doors. But it’s not something dirty.
Which puts a rift in my relationship that I believe a lot of women feel like would be grounds to break up on.
My boyfriend and I were eachother’s firsts. Something special because the media tells us so. Which I do believe is something special, regardless what the media and religion tells us. But whenever the subject of us breaking up and getting back together, he says he wouldn’t want to get back together if I slept with someone else. It makes me feel like I’d be less than he is if I expressed my sexuality with someone other than him. I don’t think he realizes is and that it sounds possessive. Because for me, if he slept with someone else while we were broken up, well, it’s exactly that. He just slept with someone else. He says it’s because it’s special that we’ve only had sex with eachother. Nothing is going to take away that we were eachother’s firsts. And I don’t think he realizes that.
What I’m just saying is that I’m very happy that this is becoming a more popular issue. Women and their sexual freedom. We should be able to express ourselves just the same way that men do. I’m tired of the double standard of men vs women.
But the worst part, it’s damned if we do, damned if we don’t.
I find it so hard making friends.
Well at least, girl friends.
I don’t know what it is about me. Maybe my personality is too strong? That’s assuming I have an entertaining personality.
Maybe I’m too obnoxious.
Maybe I smell from lack of self-esteem. Then I come off needy.
It’s just really frustrating.
I’m so frustrated.
And it makes me scared if I’m going to make new friends in school?
Because maybe it’s not that I haven’t met the right person/people. Maybe the problem is me.
And I have no idea how to fix it.
Tagged with #rachaelrnr #pressure #relationships #family #college
So, I did end up getting accepted at USF (Go Bulls!!)
Now that I’m down here, my uncle told me he thinks I should live on campus. In January he said I should live by myself. And last month, he agreed that I should maybe buy a condo.
Because of his approval of that, I unfortunately got K’s hopes up of us moving down together. Or him moving down with me. Now that I told him the news that I’m looking on campus or near campus places, he’s crushed.
How do I choose between him and my uncle?
When I’m not with K. I see him as just my boyfriend. Someone who can easily be replaced or can live without. But when I am with him, he’s my entire world and more. That’s not to say I don’t miss him now. But we’re fighting right now, so I don’t. But when we’re not fighting, I miss him.
I understand that my uncle wants what’s best for me. Especially since he’ll be helping me out, A LOT. Basically what a parent should be doing. And it’s not fair to try to argue with him when he’s retired, but still making a sacrifice for me.
If I had it my way, I’d have K find his own place down here while I dormed.
But then he argues with me that he can’t afford it. Which I don’t think makes sense. He said before that he was going to work enough to pay the mortgage and stuff so I don’t have to work. If I lived on campus, I wouldn’t need to work. He argues that renting an apartment is too expensive and he wouldn’t be able to afford it. A mortgage is about the same, if not more. And it has more issues with utilities and other responsibilities.
How can he say he’ll work so he can pay all of that, and then say he won’t be able to afford rent. Please tell me it doesn’t make sense.
But really, what it comes down to is, what do I want?
Do I want to live with my boyfriend and cats and start a life together? Or do I want to live on campus and make my aunt and uncle happy?
Do I feel like K is dead weight, like they think? Do I feel like he’s not good enough? I think he’s amazing. But my trouble is that he doesn’t know what he wants. And I basically have my life planned out for the next 8 years. I don’t want to build my life based on him. What if I do end up having to carry him the whole way? I don’t want to do that. I want to live for me. And I want him to live for him. Make his own decisions without me.
I don’t think anyone understands the predicament I’m stuck in right now.
Who do I make happy?
It seems like I’m not even a factor in this.
I’m having an asthma attack omg this is perfect
one of the few things on tumblr I genuinely find hilarious
trying to laugh silently when people are sleeping DID.NOT.WORK.
JUST WATCH IT. WHATEVER YOU DO YOU HAVE TO WATCH IT
but he’s actually a talented guy why is no one mentioning how gr9 he sounds rly
Perfect absolutely perfect
Tagged with #rachaelrnr #letter to him #letter to the boyfriend #young love #true love? #partnership #relationships
I know I take you for granted. But these past few days, I’ve felt more love for you and felt more confident in our relationship than I ever have before. And so much trust in you. I didn’t realize how much I need you.
You are my world. My everything. And I didn’t realize how strong you make me. Strong enough where I think I can survive without you. Which I can. But not the same way. I won’t have anyone backing me 24/7. I won’t have anyone to wipe my tears when I fall and tell me it’s okay and to get back up when I’m ready.
You’re so patient with me. More patient than I think anyone could be. You never get annoyed, but just laugh and say “It’s okay Cutie.” Even with my biggest tantrums. Which you’re normally the cause of. I know all you want to do is help and console me. Even when I punch you in the face. You’re never mad at me longer than ten minutes. Even when I’m stubborn and don’t say sorry.
You have so much love for me. And I see it in your eyes. It’s so touching and terrifying that I’m the reason for the shine in your eyes. I still get confused when you look at me with those softened, glistening eyes. The eyes that one can fall into. The color of the calm sea in the morning after a storm. I still wonder why you look at me with those eyes. What I did that was so special to you. When I ask what you’re looking at, you just tell me that I’m beautiful.
And you make me believe it.
I know our relationship didn’t grow organically, like it should’ve. But it seems that my life isn’t about growing organically. It’s about sudden spurts where it changes by outside forces. The changes could be good or bad. And for us, I think it’ll grow like the way I have. With its rough patches, but eventually mellowing out.
I know it must be tough sometimes to have such an aggressive girlfriend. Or a dominant one. But you do the right things that make you the dominant one. And do the right things to calm me down. You’re my perfect yin to my yang, as cliché as that may sound.
I wonder if you notice me look at you once in a while and think how perfect you are. You’re my perfect partner. You’re always there to push me when I don’t believe in myself. And always tugging at me to continue. I listen because I want nothing to do but to get you to stop annoying me, but also to make you proud.
I know I’m a hassle and that this relationship is all about me. But I do things so I can make you proud. Because I love that smile on your face when I do something good. How you’re always excited for me, even if I think it’s not a big deal. And it makes me feel good that you have genuine happiness for me.
I know I bitch a lot about you. Like….A LOT. But I just keep forgetting how perfect you are for me. But when I talk about you professionally, that you don’t go to school or your job is pretty dead-end, and I talk about what I do in school and stuff. I can tell they think you’re dead weight. Which a lot of the time, I will admit. But then I say that I believe in you and I know you’ll make something happen one day. But I just don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to push you.
I don’t want them to think you’re dead weight or that you’re using me. Because I know you’re not. And I know you have the potential to be successful. But I don’t think you believe in yourself. Not the way you believe in me. I believe in you. Even when I’m a bitch about the whole situation. I do believe you can do something worthwhile. And put an end to people’s talking.
I love you, K. More than the stars and the moon. To Andromeda and back. I’ll love you until the ends of the earth and more.
You are my everything and more. And I can’t be more thankful to have such a wonderful person in my life.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m making a mistake not going the Zoology route.
And it makes me wonder if I love traveling or if I love animals more..
Tagged with #rachael growing up #adulthood #transitioning #scared #why can't I see the future #what if it's a big mistake
I think I’m at the point in my life where I need to learn how to start transitioning in adulthood. With adult responsibilities and stuff.
Like, I thought I’ve been taking care of myself for the past ten years, but really, I had no idea. But these are also things that I don’t think my mom would know either.
Now that I’m committed to Tampa, I have to think about well, everything. How am I going to pay for school? Where am I going to live? Where am I going to work? How do you make friends? And literally everything in between.
I decided I’m going to buy a condo or a townhome when I move. It’ll just make things easier. I can rent out the other bedroom, which will cover my mortgage and stuff. But then I have to think about loans. I also have to think about my student loans. How am I going to get approved for a student loan? How necessary is it for my aunt and uncle to cosign on it? Do they also need to cosign for my mortgage?
Then, school. Am I going to work as much as I do now? Or am I going to focus on school and work a little bit. Just enough for food. Maybe it’d be easier to rent so I don’t have to work.
Do I still want to major in international business and management? I think I want to go into marketing again. Do I just decide when I’m actually taking classes?
How do you sign up for utilities? What costs do I have to think about when I buy a property? What are taxes? What kind of taxes does Florida have? How much are taxes? How do you pay utilities? Can I sign up for auto-pay?
How do I choose a doctor? How many doctors do I need to see? My insurance card still says my pediatrician, can I still go to her? How do you choose an OBGYN? What does that even stand for? Do I need to get that dry spot on my leg checked out? Is that a lump? IS THAT CANCER?
What if I don’t like my roommate? Is location really everything? How do you grow a back-bone and say ‘no’?
Who is going to help me with all these questions? My aunt and uncle can’t do everything for me. And it’s extremely unfair to ask them. But I’m scared if I do it on my own, I’m going to end up making a mistake that will cost me more than my money. Maybe it’ll cost me a career?
Why isn’t there a book how to be an adult? And when I figure all this out, fuck yeah, I’m going to write one. Because I know a lot of people are far worse off than I am right now.
Why are young adults forced to learn all these things on their own now? Especially for children on immigrant parents who don’t know the system? I have no one guiding me as I enter this new chapter of my life. And I’m scared it’s going to be a quick happy one or if it’ll be long and miserable. Kind of like Lord of the Flies.
Shit. Maybe I’ll kill a fat kid. (Reference to the novel, don’t take me seriously.)
What if, at the end of the day, I made a huge mistake…
What if I should have never decided to go to Florida and I spend the rest of my years in debt.
Why do we need to think of these questions. I’m only 19. I don’t know what’s ahead of me.
And that’s extremely frightening.