The Worst Part of Breaking Up is the Emotions

So I've noticed that the worst part of breaking up is the emotions. It's incredibly complicated. You're not just sad or just relieved or just anything. You're everything. One moment you could be completely fine, thinking that you've finally moved on with your life and that your future looks bright without him, but then it'll hit you. The main thing that I don't understand in this awkward post-breakup stage is the fact that even though I logically know this is the right decision, I still want to get back together.

It's not that I think it will work, or that I think it can be repaired, because I know it can't. I just... still want somebody to call me when I'm walking home from the gym. I still want to hear about his day, and the things that he's excited for. I still want to hug him when I see him, and I still want to see him all the time. 

There's something magical, beautiful, and addictive about sharing your life with another person. It's something you never realize you need until you fall madly in love, but afterwards you can't help wondering how anyone ever gets by without that feeling. How did I survive before? It's like you become the most interesting person in the world. Someone out there loves you so much that they actually want to know what you ate for lunch that day, or what toppings you put on your sandwich, and it's not out of obligation that they listen... it's because somehow that topic actually is interesting to them because it's about you. And even stranger is that it's a two-way street, you also want to know about what they ate for lunch too. It's really amazing to know that no matter what bad happens in your life, there's someone out there that cares about what you put on your sandwich. And that no matter how horribly you mess up sometimes... if you fail a class, chew out your friend, get sick, lose your job, anything... someone's still out there waiting to talk to you about that and anything else you have to say. And you want to do the same for them. It's absolutely astonishing to share your life with another person.

But then, when it ends, there's this gaping hole left. Even after you noticed the relationship was puttering out. Even when you noticed those phone conversations getting shorter and shorter, those hugs getting less tight and comforting, those eyes looking at you less and less... even then, when you know you have to move on, you still feel just lost. There is no breakup where you come out of it okay, especially if you love someone. There's no way to really recover. It's like there's still that automatic reaction sometimes, like you forget for a second that the relationship is no longer there. Even a month after breaking up, I've caught myself reaching for my phone as I walk out of the gym, accidentally pressing in the first few digits of his phone number before remembering. I've caught myself looking forward to Friday, because I used to go see him every Friday night, but then I remember that that's no longer the case. And I've caught myself thinking, nearly every day, something along the lines of, "Oh I should tell him that-" before remembering again. 

I'm not just writing this as a woe-is-me kind of thing, either. I know that billions of people throughout history have felt what I am feeling now. But, I'm just trying to piece together what exactly I'm having so much trouble with here. Basically, I'm just saying that it's difficult to go back to just being me, myself, and I after being a part of a pair. Especially when it was supposed to work out.  

More Women Should Be Feminists

So I've noticed that more women should be feminists. Now, before everyone starts yelling at me, allow me to explain. In today's world, I know many women who consider themselves feminists, but really aren't. Now, I genuinely think that these women do believe that they are feminists, but they have completely missed the point. You know the people I'm talking about, I used to be one of the people I'm talking about. They're the ones who are advocating a matriarchal society rather than an equal one. They're the ones putting women down for choices that they make for themselves, and they're the ones that objectify men more than they claim men are objectifying them.

Now you all really want to yell at me, right? Try to hold back a bit, take a breath, and keep listening. I know this is an emotional topic, and trust me, my emotions are just as strong. But I'm begging you to put your judgment on hold and hear what I have to say. Just keep reading, alright?

Women are just as intelligent as men, so why do we assume we're not? By playing with Barbie, I probably had the same reaction I did when I played with my Tonka truck, or my easy bake oven. It was fun, so I played with it. Barbie didn't make me think I had to look like Barbie when I grew up, just like my Tonka truck never made me feel like I needed to become a truck driver, and my easy bake oven didn't make me feel like I needed to spend my life in the kitchen. I was a kid, so I played with fun toys. That's literally all there is to it. Young boys play with action figures all the time, yet nobody is raising a fuss over young men feeling inadequate because of Superman's biceps. Because they don't, just like Barbie isn't the problem with young women.

Then what is the problem, you ask? You're going to hate me when I say this, but it's women. I have had an entire slew of body image issues in my life. In my pre-teen years I alternated between never eating and eating all of my feelings, and I was overweight. I have always had body image issues, so don't ever think that I'm saying this because I'm exempt from feeling bad about the way I look, but Barbie didn't do this to me. Neither did television, or models, or magazines. Do you want to know the first time I felt like I didn't look right? It was when an adult woman said, "You would look so cute if you just lost a couple of pounds." HERE is where the body image issues lay, it's not with men, media, or anything else. Phrases like, "I could give you some low fat recipes" or "Your face is so pretty, but" are at the bottom of it. And women are the ones saying them to each other.

Now, as I stated before. Women are intelligent. Therefore, they should be able to make whatever choice they want for their life, correct? Yeah. So why do so-called "feminists" decide that a woman is only supportive of equal rights for women if they dress and act a certain way, or chose a certain career path. If a woman dresses in a revealing way, or if she is sexual in any way, other women criticize her for "becoming an object for male pleasure." I cannot tell you how sick I am of hearing that! Men are also smart, ladies, and contrary to popular belief they are not ruled by their genitalia. Men know you're not an object because you dress a certain way. And I would also like to suggest the possibility that the way another woman dresses could be because she wants to dress that way... just because it's what she is comfortable and confident in. In all likelihood, it has nothing to do with the men at all. And if a woman is a sexual person, they should not be shamed for it. They are allowed to make their own decisions, and it has nothing to do with you.

On the opposite side of the coin, women who decide they want to be stay-at-home mothers get just as much anger from so-called "feminists." If I hear another "feminist" rallying of about how someone is "just pushing traditional gender roles onto women" or "brainwashed by the media" I may vomit. For the last time WOMEN ARE INTELLIGENT and therefore can do whatever they want. And do you know why a women might want to be a stay-at-home mom? BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO! The same way that if a man wanted to be a stay-at-home dad there should be no issue with it! 

You're not a feminist by putting down other women for their decisions. You're not a feminist by fighting against "the media" or "Barbie." And you're definitely not a feminist by saying that men are sexualizing you, when you do the same thing to men you're attracted to. Now of course I recognize that there is horrible gender inequality in the world. And I do recognize that there is not equality here as far as pay goes for women. I understand all of that, and I know equality isn't fully realized yet in all ways. All I'm saying is let's actually try, as women, to support one another in reaching the goal of equality. Let's actually try to have a world where women can make whatever decision they want to without judgment or hindrance. Because as of right now, we're way off the mark. 

Holidays Make Me Miss Family

So I've noticed that holidays make me miss family. Now, I've never been a big holiday person. In fact, my entire family has never been the over-the-top for Easter people. Sure, we've had a nice meal, when we were little there were Easter baskets outside our doors. But, we were never die hard Christians, and with me not being a Christian at all anymore, celebrating Easter is something that lost its touch a while ago... or at least as soon as I outgrew Easter egg hunts and believing in a giant bunny that could lay chocolate eggs and hop around the world.

Since I was thirteen I've lived with just myself and my Dad, and after I entered college be moved two thousands miles away. Meanwhile my Mom already lived thousands of miles away. So, in all honesty, I don't even remember most Easters after I passed the age of ten. There are some vague memories from a couple years back, but that's about it. So, when I remembered this week that Easter was fast approaching my planning basically included writing some clever jokes about the fact that Easter fell on 4/20. "Some will be praising, others will be blazing," being my favorite of all the jokes I came up with.

I was invited to go along with one of my best friends, Joe, to church and then to his family's brunch. Since the alternative was sitting in a dorm room reading manga and watching Firefly for the second day in a row, and since I hadn't seen Joe in far too long (he's been off at college doing something with his life), I gladly accepted the offer. I didn't expect to become so emotional throughout the course of the day, however.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am THE most emotional person I know. I cry during hallmark commercials and cartoons. The Land Before Time series makes me tear up. But holidays in recent years, particularly Easter, kind of remind me of a dusty childhood toy you find under your bed after years. You pick up that old Thomas the Tank Engine and turn it over a couple times saying, "Aw, I remember this. I was so little when this was a thing of importance in my life" before finding an appropriate donation bin or trash receptacle to discard good ol' Thomas. That's the extent of my emotions towards Easter... well, it was until today.

I got up at 7 to get ready in time for church. I even wore a dress and tights and the whole nine yards. Joe and his family picked me up and we went to the church, where a band sang and testimonials were made, and hearts were touched. And I enjoyed it. I looked around at the families surrounding me, the parent's eyes filled with love and joy, the children's eyes filled with hungry excitement for chocolate and giant, fictitious bunny rabbits. Even without Christianity, there's something about this holiday that made me miss my family. We went onto brunch where Joe's family laughed making food, hid Easter eggs for us to find, played games.

The entire time I had so much fun. It was the kind of fun that I don't remember having around this holiday for a long time. And I remembered why I loved Easter as a child. I remembered that I loved my family, and that I wanted to be near them. I wanted to help them make food, and play games, and everything of the sort. I really miss them right now.

But in one month, I'll be moving back out near them and next Easter I'll make sure to be near so that I can do all of that. But for today, I will reflect on the fun I had with Joe's family... and I'll watch Game of Thrones. Because, come on, it's a new episode. There's no way I'm going to miss that.  

Breakups Make You Do Things With Your Life

So I've noticed that breakups force me to actually do things with my life. It was a little less than a month ago that I went through my first horrible breakup ever. We'd been together for about a year and half, and in that year and a half we'd spent every second glued to each others side cooing things like, "oh I love you so much" and spurting off pet names and planning a future together. We were that couple. And the worst part was that since we were (and still are) so young, it seemed that everyone except for us expected it to end at some point.

Now to fully understand the level or devastation I went through in the days of post-breakup madness, you have to realize that we had planned out our entire futures together. A month from today I'll be making a three thousand mile move across the country, and he was supposed to be coming with me. Well, he's not anymore. So all my plans essentially went to hell.

The first couple days of post-breakup hysteria were spent on the bathroom floor of my dorm room crying like an idiot and listening to Adele's "Someone Like You" on repeat and singing along. Now, no, I'm not accustomed to crying exclusively in bathrooms, but I'm living in the dorms right now and I hardly talk to any of my roommates ever (That's a story for another day). I didn't think they'd appreciate my tear-stricken Adele-singing face all up in their business for three days. I'm sure they also didn't appreciate having to walk downstairs to use a restroom, but I had to make a judgment call.

In the aftermath of the first three days of crying Adele fits, I remembered that I had a paper due in two hours. The "oh crap" feeling set in and for the first time I sat down in front of my computer not to Google things like "Why doesn't he love me?" or "What went wrong in my relationship," but to actually do something with my life. The feeling of dread at potentially failing this paper threw me into a kind of focus I hadn't had in a long time. And, somehow, it was liberating.

After the paper was written and turned in I felt the familiar urge to return to my cramped bathroom, blasting music and making pathetic Google searches like a thirteen year old girl. Instead I decided to write, and I didn't stop for a long time. Before my relationship I was always writing, and somehow I'd abandoned that interest the second I became "Carly and someone else" rather than just "Carly." And then, for a second, I felt relief at the fact that we had broken up.

You see, somewhere along the line I forgot what I actually enjoyed doing. So now, here I am, starting a blog because I have nothing better to do with my life... except maybe school work, but who really cares. I'll get to it someday. Basically, my breakup made me decide to do something with my life for the first time in a long time.