Coming to Terms with the Ex Files

He was yours first, I suppose.

And it doesn't matter whether you dated for 10 days or 10 years because the fact of the matter is, you beat me to it. You marked your territory before I even knew there was land to be found.

Though I envy you your history and your inextricably linked lives,  I don't envy you because you lost him. You turned your back. You let what you had wilt and decay into nothing. Well, not nothing. I found some scraps, I picked up the pieces. I spotted the stomped on seedling of a heart and nurtured it and cared for it and now it's mine. And dammit, I earned it. You don't deserve him if you couldn't figure out how to keep him yours.

He kisses me like his lips were made for mine, so I can't imagine how yours compare. I want to ask him whose lips win, but I don't, because even if he chooses me, I'd rather not turn his attention back to you for even a second.

As we get older, everyone's past becomes greater. I wish you weren't so much of his.

The 6 Types of Guys You Date In Between the Good Ones

There were a few men who entered my life briefly since the demise of my last Big Relationship. Then, I found You.

I’ve dubbed these fellows: "The In-Betweeners”.

1. Ugly boy – Ugly boy happens right after a big break up. He’s just there. He’s available and persistent and desperate for vagina. Ugly boy has the intriguing effect of making you feel ugly too. Rather than feeling more attractive in comparison to him, he has the unique ability of pulling you down to his level. Not a keeper.

2. Racist boy – Racist boy is the quintessential southern republican. Of course, there’s no way of knowing such insanity lurks behind those baby blues when he buys you a drink Saturday night, but when he makes a disparaging comment about your heritage between sips of $1 Bud Light the following Thursday, it’s clear it’s time to leave.

3. Pretty boy – Pretty boy is pretty and not much else. End of story.

4. Boring boy – Boring boy (also known as “perfect on paper” boy) is cute and successful and polite and nice enough, but utterly, mind-numbingly dull. He’s the reason you got sloshed on a Tuesday. Apparently, the secret to withstanding more than 20 minutes of Boring boy is Sangria. Who knew?

5. Jobless boy – Jobless boy is always the life of the party. He’s available to do WHATever whenever because he’s unemployed and up for anything! His enthusiasm is contagious and makes you want to quit your job and travel the world. But then the money runs out. He’s stuck at home and you’re stuck with him.

6. Apathetic Jewish boy – Apathetic Jewish boy is intelligent, interesting, and handsome. He’s passionate about his government job and comes off earnest and caring to friends and family. He’s husband material. Until you learn he likes to numb himself with Valium and ejaculate on your tits.

8 Ways to Ruin a Potential Relationship

1. Introduce him to your parents on a day when he and your dad happen to be dressed identically. Are madras shorts making a comeback or something? They probably shouldn't be...

2. Circle his bicep with one hand and exclaim (loudly! in public!) “Aw, look, my fingers can touch!” Even if it’s clear his arms could use some bulk, he doesn’t need you to remind him.

3. Make jokes comparing his manhood to rigatoni. Just because it’s your favorite kind of noodle, doesn’t mean he’s ok with being compared to the choad of the pasta world.

4. Offer up a pair of your ex-bf’s boxers after a Saturday morning shower sesh. Turns out every guy ever in the world would prefer to wear increasingly scummy undergarments for a weekend than step into another dude’s junk holder.

5. Go apartment hunting on craigslist and email him links to one-bedrooms you like. Even following with “not yettttt (winky face)…” doesn’t make this ok.

6. Facebook stalk him immediately following your first date and tell him how adorable his cousin-from-Wisconsin’s kids are. Bonus points if you can name drop the family pets in later conversations. Nothing freaks a guy out so much as overzealous fb research.

7. Explain in excruciating detail the amazinggg dream you had about him last night in which he emptied your dishwasher and took out the trash. No, those aren't euphemisms for something sexy.

8. Tell him you have a strict life timeline that has you walking down the aisle when you're 26 (just two years away, sweetiekins), pregnant at 28, knocked up again by 30, and popping out the last kid before 33. I mean, a little planning never hurt anyone...

Confession: I’m not saying I’ve done ALL these things, but I’ve definitely done more than I’d like to admit. Oopsies.

You're Probably Just Fooling Yourself

Fantasy is nearly always better than reality.

In high school, I had a crush on a boy in biology class. He was cute and didn’t know it. He was left handed.

I remember daydreaming about his beautiful, artistic fingers and dying to know what matters of profundity they were forever producing in his marble notebook. Sometimes, when I snuck a glance in his direction, he’d catch my gaze and smirk - and then go right back to ignoring the teacher and furiously moving his pencil across the page.

He was kind of a punk. Or however punky one could be at a DC private school. His clothes were scruffy and grimy and usually involved some number of chains crisscrossing from a belt loop to a wallet to who knows where. His hair was greasy, teeth unbrushed, and he generally gave off an air of unshowered-ness, yet I was entranced, enthralled with this boy and his perfect artist hands.

He wrote poetry, so I wrote poetry. He cared about music, so I pretended to care. He liked to draw, so I signed up for an introductory art class. I wanted to become someone he could maybe love.

He complimented me once. It was Halloween. I went to school dressed as a goth, and I remember the prickling sensation of his unrestrained scrutiny.  Class dismissed. I stood to leave but he caught my arm as I walked out the door. We locked eyes. “You look hot,” he muttered.

And that was it. The fantasy imploded and his appeal utterly vanished. The cerebral, sexy, brooding man I’d dreamed up in my head was nothing more than a high school boy with a penchant for too-tight plaid pants and underwhelming personal hygiene. He was no artiste! He was but a mere mortal.

Fantasies seem to have a way of undoing themselves.

The Early Stages of Dating

When you first start seeing someone, everything is rosy and good and nothing is dark and bad, and there are no tears or drama or jealousy. It’s the lovely, simple time before you even have your own feelings figured out.

You don’t want to seem needy and clingy and overly-attached, but suddenly all your friends seem lackluster and your new beau is the zenith of all that is fun and amazing in the universe and you just want to non-creepily spend every spare second in their company. So you make plans. First it’s happy hour, then food, then maybe a movie. Then it becomes all these inane activities. Let’s go rock climbing, let’s try trapezing. Ever hiked in the Shenandoah’s? LET’S DO IT.

Because when a relationship is first getting off the ground, you’re hopelessly reliant on organized activities to give your time together some structure. The gist of the plan is essentially meaningless, but there’s an unwritten rule that you’ve got to have one. Both parties must at least pretend there's an underlying reason for meeting up besides possibly wanting to exchange DNA.

So the Big Date is scheduled and details confirmed but fro-yo becomes dinner which turns into drinks which leads to morning coffee and suddenly you’ve powered through all the classic date night activities in a single whirlwind evening and you find yourself sprawled on a couch watching re-runs of sitcoms wishing you’d spaced things out just a little bit better. It’s like speed dating except with one person instead of a roomful of singles.

And now things aren't rosy and good or dark and bad but some kind of murky pinkish middle ground.

Is this (just) real life?

Five Lies My Parents Told Me

1. Sex. 
When I was little, I asked my parents what sex was after I heard my friend shout the word at the top of his lungs one day on the playground. My mom took me aside and explained that sex was a very special kiss between mommies and daddies that felt wonderful and made babies so that's why people did it. Well, imagine my surprise when I discovered it was a hell of a lot grosser than kissing, usually felt pretty mediocre, and rarely happened between mommies and daddies. In fact, that's probably the most overused joke in today's shitty sitcoms. Sorry honey, not tonight - cue the laugh track, bah dum, cha!

2. You can be anything you want to be. 
This one is a constant source of frustration for me. Yes, when you're young you can be anything you want to be and I wanted to be an Olympic gymnast. But then, once you hit puberty, you literally, physically cannot become an Olympic gymnast anymore. Like, you go to the Olympics when you're 12, you don't begin training then. So here I am, 24 and completely disillusioned by the parents who led me to believe I could pursue any dream at any time. I didn't realize there was a time limit to my dreams!! Now I'm obviously too old to be anything I want to be. Also! When I was a kid, I didn't understand that people were different races. I coveted my neighborhood friend's dark skin and wanted to be just like her. I now realize I will never be a black person. I mean, I guess I could try to tan my way to bronzed hotness, but I'd probably just wind up with a giant freckle blob and then peel. Gross. I guess I'm stuck being white for life. Thanks a lot, MOM.

3. You are beautiful. 
My parents always told me I was beautiful because I was a very cute child and it was a nice thing to say absentmindedly while tucking me in at night. Today, I realize I am not. There is a pretty obvious distinction between beauty and cuteness - a concept that current culture ensures is drilled into the minds of everyone with an X chromosome. Beauty is Frida Pinto. Beauty is Penelope Cruz. Beauty is Mila Kunis. Cute is freckles. Cute is round cheeks. Cute is me. I've come to terms with this now that I'm in my 20's and frequently mistaken for a 14-year-old, but it took some serious hits to my ego to knock me down a few pegs. I pretty much spent the better part of a decade thinking I was way hotter than I was. Awkward.

4. Santa is real. 
This is probably the most pervasive lie that parents in America tell their children. I grew up sort of non-Christian bordering on Jewish and celebrated Hanukkah from time to time so it's not like my parents had any obligation to go along with the elaborate lie of Christmas. I would have been perfectly happy receiving my gifts like any other normal child without the fantastical tale of a fat guy in a red suit lording over his elfin sweatshop. I don't even remember exactly when I discovered the truth about this holiday, but I don't recall being particularly upset. If anything, I just felt a little betrayed that mom and dad didn't think they could be real with me. Besides, I definitely didn't care about Santa as long as the tooth fairy was real. (I found $4 on my bedside table after I got my wisdom teeth taken out last year which I accept as substantial proof that she exists.)

5. He's only mean to you because he likes you. 
Yeah....he was mean to me because he actually hated me. Like, we were not friends. Oh and this carries over to grown-up life too. When guys are assholes, it's not because they have a crush on you. It's because they don’t want to sleep with you. Message received.