Tag Archives: love

On a Mother’s Love.


So, as usual, I’m behind on my posts. No one’s surprised. I’m going to double dip on this one. For my sorority, Delta Zeta, we have an annual mother-daughter tea. This year, we’re putting together a display, which I’m not going to talk about in detail in case anyone reading this will be attending. Anyways, I’m really thankful for my mom. I wish I would have realized sooner how wonderful she is. 
So, here’s post two! 

When I was a little girl, I wanted nothing more than to grow up and be just like my mommy.  I remember sneaking into her leopard print make up bag, putting on way too much red lipstick, and pretend I was just like her.

When I entered my teenage years, I thought my mom was out to get me. She couldn’t possibly want me to have fun, and she definitely didn’t understand me. I never even considered the sacrifices she was making so that I could do all of the things I did. Countless nights we fought, and each time I’d think “I can’t wait to leave home and never have to come back again”. 

Looking back, I realize my mom loved me more than anything. She was crazy, yes, but so was I. Now that I’m grown up and don’t have to go home if I don’t want to, I miss her more than anything. The phone calls I would dread in high school, I now look forward to.

My mother is a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman. She has drive and ambition, and taught me to always work hard and never give up on my dreams. She taught me how to stand up for what I believe in (something we’re both a little too good at). I love her more than anything; I’m lucky to have not just a wonderful mother, but a best friend. 


On Taking Things for Granted.


Well, folks, the Lenten season is upon us. Now, every year I give something (or a series of things) up, and inevitably, am completely unsuccessful in my endeavor. So this year, instead of giving something up, I decided to take more time to appreciate the little things and fix something about myself. Each week, throughout the season, I’ll post a blog about my journey. Probably boring, but a little personal growth never hurt anyone. 

Here’s the first. On taking things for granted.

We take a lot of things for granted. Our friends, families, significant others. Food, shelter, water. Clothing, books, music. The luxuries of daily existence. The list is endless. We just assume they will always be there, that is until they’re not. It’s true what they say, you never realize what you have until it’s gone.  In light of recent events, today I got to thinking about what I take for granted, and what I’d do without them. Here’s what I’ve got. 

love (noun)

: a feeling of strong or constant affection for a person

: attraction that includes sexual desire : the strong affection felt by people who have a romantic relationship

: a person you love in a romantic way

Exhibit A: My boyfriend (I know I said I wasn’t that girl who would blog about her boyfriend, but bear with me). Today, we fought. We don’t do that a lot, and as a result, I just assume our relationship is perfect and that he will always be there. He left for a few hours today, so we could both clear our heads, and I got to thinking – why do we take our love for granted? Why do I assume that he’ll always be there when I wake up? At some point, does it become commonplace for us to treat those we love with less respect than others simply because we assume they will always be there? Should we not, in theory, do anything but take those people for granted? After all, he’s the only one who thinks I’m pretty with no make up on after I just woke up and haven’t showered in three days. I should do anything but take him for granted.

Exhibit B: My parents. Recently, I’ve gotten to thinking about how absolutely amazing these people are. They made me the person that I am today, and I’m pretty proud of that. Have I told them that? Probably not enough. Instead of taking their unconditional love as something that will always be there, I’m going to be sure to tell them just how thankful and lucky I am to have them. My mom has called me three days in a row this week and talked to me for upwards of half an hour each night. Instead of rolling my eyes at her, I should have showered her in the “I love yous” she deserves. 

I know, this post is short. But, the premise is simple. Never, ever take anything for granted. It could be gone tomorrow. And don’t just tell the people you love that you love them — show them every single day. 

New Year, New Blog.


Recently, one of my friends asked me why I stopped writing in my blog.  After thinking about it for a while, I realized that I wasn’t blogging because, for once, things were actually going great for me. I have a good job, a plan for the future, great friends, and an absolutely sensational boyfriend. So what was there for me to write about? No one was cheating on me and my life wasn’t falling apart – no one could possibly want to read about the good things going on in my life. Obviously I shouldn’t blog until something bad comes along.

That’s when it struck me – as human beings, we thrive on other people’s struggles.  I’m personally responsible for this, I know. How many times have you opened your Facebook to scorn at the happily engaged couples or new parents, only to then search someone who you know is worse off than you are? If I wrote a blog called “10 Reasons Why I Love My Boyfriend,” (I won’t, don’t worry) it would probably get a tenth of the views as a post entitled “10 Reasons Why My Boyfriend is a Lying Asshole”.  And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what is wrong with all of us. We find happiness in other’s misfortune. Instead of finding it in ourselves to be happy for them, we become disgusted and withdraw ourselves from their excitement.  Heaven forbid someone actually have a good life.

I’ve never been much for New Year’s Resolutions. After all, we all know they’re practically impossible to keep, and if I want to change something, why wait until the new year to do it? But this year, I made one. I decided to make myself a better person.  And this is one of the ways I plan to do so. I vow to find happiness for other’s successes. I vow to talk about the good things in my life, like having a boyfriend who will watch terrible Netflix documentaries with me and decorate Christmas cookies with my parents and applying to graduate school. I vow to appreciate the little things such as running water and heat during a polar vortex. I vow to be happy, no matter what. 

With that, I plan to revamp my blog. For one, I want to get back into writing. Period. Second of all, I plan to focus on the positives instead of the negatives in my life. Don’t worry, I’m sure my signature, snarky posts will still be present, but hopefully interspersed with positive, uplifting ones. So here’s to 2014 – a year of happiness, success, love, and blog posts to highlight all of those things. 

Bros before Hoes.


My whole life, I’ve been friends with men. I grew up with a group of boys who taught me the ways of the world, and through them I learned a lot of really interesting thing — specifically things about relationships.

From a young age, I knew that something existed called the “bro code.” The premise of said code being quite simple: Bros before Hoes.

When I entered the dating world, I assumed this would be universal. Members of the same sex would stick together, because in the dog eat dog world of relationships, someone had to be there to support you, right? Wrong. Ironically, the “Girl Code” is also “Bros before Hoes”.

Men are never wrong. Women have this flawed frame of mind where they immediately attack all women, but, even though both a man and a woman had to make that choice these woman are so worked up about, they ignore the man’s actions. They believe him over the warnings of their friends. They tell everyone they meet terrible stories about the “nasty homewrecking whore”. They put a bro way before their fellow hoes.

I distinctly remember talking to my best friend (a male) one night about this concept of gender loyalty in relationships. And he said something that really stuck with me: “It’s simple, really. If my friend slept with my girlfriend, I’d confront him. But if you slept with your girlfriend’s boyfriend, she’d talk to everyone except for you about it.” And never has anyone said something more accurate.

That’s the very reason that I don’t believe I owe loyalty to women anymore. And maybe that makes me a terrible person, but why go out of my way to help you out when I know that you’d run your mouth about me the first chance you got?

But really. Have you ever noticed that the other woman is immediately vilified as a dirty slut, while the man’s actions are never even commented on? It takes two to tango, sweetheart, and if your boyfriend cheated on you — the real problem is him, not her.

Why do we, as women, feel the need to attack other women? It’s obvious that everyone is out to get everyone else. But why?

So what if she’s kissed a lot of guys? She’s still supposed to be your friend, so damn it, act like one. Don’t run around telling everyone how she’s a terrible person and you can’t believe her unless you’re willing to say something to her face. And who cares if one of the men she kissed has also kissed another of your friends? IT ISN’T HER FAULT. Maybe you should just look at the man who is the connecting factor.

But, ladies, if everyone has warned you about him, and you make the choice, then you should be prepared for the consequences. I’m going to have a very hard time feeling bad for you when you end up heartbroken after you ignored everyone telling you about him, and all of the warning signs, and you didn’t ask the girl all of the rumors are about, but instead decided to talk about her to all of her friends.

That girl he slept with while he was dating you did nothing wrong. She didn’t know about you. Granted, she’d heard some rumors, but how was she to know they were true? Also, she came first.

This is why I don’t believe in the “Girl Code” that I’ve heard talk of. Now whether or not we believe it as fervently as the men and their “Bro Code” is open for debate. However, I don’t think I owe you anything. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you an apology. And I don’t feel bad for you. Everyone has to learn a lesson or two the hard way, and I suppose this will be one of yours.

In almost every situation involving two girls, one man, and a lie — the wrong person is judged. So, why fake this loyalty? Why expect me to tell you if your boyfriend cheats on you with me if you’ve spent the past month complaining to everyone except for me about me? Why should I be your friend and give you relationship advice if you’re going to tell everyone how I’m making bad life choices because I kissed a boy at a party who, heaven forbid, has kissed another girl we know?

You can’t claim every man you’ve ever kissed as your own. You can’t be mad at the girl who talks to a man you liked and didn’t reciprocate that emotion. You can’t be mad at the girl who was with him before you for sleeping with him when she didn’t know about you. In theory, she can be mad at you. But chances are she isn’t because she’s a really rational individual, and you, are really, really naive.

I no longer feel that I owe anything to anyone. If I do something, an explanation is not owed to anyone. Because what is that girl going to do? Tell everyone what are terrible bitch I am for having mad an error in judgment, and completely ignore my attempt to rectify the situation. So why even try?

Until women quit blaming, attacking and gossiping about other women, there’s no reason to even try and be open with your gender mates. You may as well do what you want, because the rumors will say you did anyways.

How He Gets What He Wants


I’ve realized that some of my better blogs have been retrospective how to guides to myself. There’s something about “I told myself so” that I find really therapeutic. Here’s another shot at a list to myself of things to run away from. If only I could really learn from my own mistakes.

  1. If he quotes Shakespeare to you, you can’t trust him. It is obvious that he knows how to act, and those beautiful, enchanting words won’t do much but make you fall for him even harder when you know you shouldn’t. So, if he starts quoting Big Bill, you get up and walk out that door. You’ll thank me later.
  2. If you receive a phone call at any time after midnight, you should probably just ignore it. In the off chance you think he may have been hit by a car and needs taken to a hospital and you answer, as soon as he tells you he’s at a bar, you should leave. Because, newsflash, sweetie, you’re his last call. And he doesn’t want to talk.
  3. If he tells you some heart wrenching story that makes you think he’s got a reason to be such an asshole, for the love of God, don’t listen. You’ll be justifying all of the Hell you’ve been through, and pretty soon you’ll be agreeing with him that you deserved what you got.
  4. The second he brushes back your hair, kisses you gently, or talks about how beautiful you are — realize that he is lying. He enjoys manipulating you, and probably every other girl ever. Also, if he wants to cuddle, you really, really shouldn’t. Because, as we all know, it’s never, ever just cuddling.
  5. If he tells you to tell him you like him, or asks if you love him (even as a friend), or to tell him what you want from him — don’t do it. He’s trying to get you to tell him you have feelings. And as soon as you do it, he’ll really enjoy every time you send him a text message and he ignores it. So, just stop trying, girls. I am. Hopefully.
  6. This one’s quite unfortunate. But as soon as you really feel like you can be yourself around him, that’s probably about the time he’s gotten what he wants and it will be just about over. You’ll enjoy sitting up for hours when you have an exam in the morning laughing and talking about everything, and then the next day he’ll want to pretend it never happened. And you’ll just be there wishing it didn’t.
  7. If ever he tells you that you’re his type, you’re a great girl, or “moments like these are what make it so hard on him,” just get up and walk out the door. I know it’s hard to resist him, but he doesn’t mean it. It’s just another way he’s winning you over.
  8. If he’s got a reputation, you should probably avoid him. Because even if it doesn’t end up being completely true, he got it somehow. And that means he knows what he’s doing, and no matter how good you are, he’ll beat you at your own game every time.
  9. If any part of your encounter is supposed to be kept private, it probably shouldn’t happen. Because that means he has something to hide from someone, and that something should never be you.
  10. If he uses the words chemistry or connection, that’s a pretty good sign he’s manipulating you. Phrases like “you’re my last good thing here” also count. And, if you try to leave and he tells you to stay, get up and walk away.  Because if you don’t, you’ve played right into his trap.

Good Luck Rachel.


I’m sure many of you have seen, or at least heard of, the film Good Luck Chuck.  Now, for the latter part of my life, all of my friends have told me that I am just like title character, Chuck. I’ve only seen the movie once — in a stupor of a wounded confidence at the hands of an asshole man, so I’ll just provide a basic summary.

Women love sleeping with Chuck, because after doing so, they meet the love of their life.

Now, I’ve always been more like Chuck’s friend, Stu, who serves to remind him that sex without love is still sex. I’m not really actively looking for anything serious.  But still, every single man I have been with, be it dating or talking to, has become seriously involved with the girl he is with immediately following me. And I mean it. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.

I’ll start off young. In the 8th grade, I dated Steady Eddy — as my mom called him. His next girlfriend was in tenth grade. He has a child to her. Skipping a few less entertaining ones — I dated what one might call my first love. Do you want to know how our relationship ended? With him text messaging a girl I was sitting right next to. And telling her he was single. (He was dating me. Until I saw that.) Now? He’s going to marry a very large, younger girl. She happened to also be the girl after me.

I dated someone the summer before my sophomore year. He’s engaged to the girl he cheated on me with. Sophomore year, both boys I talked to and I didn’t work out — but I bet any money they propose to their respective current girlfriends. This year? I’ve talked to two people. Both of which are now in serious relationships. Noticing a trend?

I always thought it was coincidence. But the most recent man in my life came out and said he wasn’t looking for anything serious. He wanted something fun, because in a month, we’d be going our separate ways. This sentiment was perfect. It was exactly what I was looking for. But then, one night, he tells me he met someone amazing who he seriously likes. Good for him. But what. If someone who blatantly expresses disinterest in dating finds someone to be serious with after being with me, I guess that’s when I’ll know it’s real.

Seriously. I have a curse. And I don’t really know what it is. Or how to fix it. I guess I need to watch the movie again. But at this point, just call me Good Luck Rachel — and if you’re looking for a man, come to me. Because I bet I can date one for you.

If We Were 11 and it Was 1942….


In the past few days, I’ve learned a lot.

In fact, I might go as far as to say that I’ve learned more these past few days than I have in the past few years.

It all started when I went to my sister’s house the other night for dinner.  As usual, she handed me a stack of books as I walked out the door, each with a claim that I would absolutely love them.  When I got home, I looked through them, and selected the most attractive [judge me] cover, and opened it up. Immediately, I was enraptured by Jamie Ford’s Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet. Everything about the tale of two children, one Chinese and one Japanese, attempting to negotiate love during WWII and the terror of internment camps pulled at my heart strings.

Now I won’t bore you with the details, or beg you to read it. Instead, I’ll tell you just what this enchanting novel did for me.

It made me cry. And I do not cry. But, throughout the entire book, I sobbed uncontrollably. I learned a lot about the war through this work of fiction than I had ever known. What it taught me was simple. How the war impacted real people. I realized the trauma the Japanese American’s living in the states faced, and the terrors we subjected them to. I felt as though I was with them as their homes were torn apart, as their lives were ruined, and as their spirits were broken. I realized just how lucky I am. And that I should never take what I have for granted, because it could all be taken from me in an instant, just as these people experienced.

But, what I thought to be most important was this.

I learned the meaning of love. I’ve never, ever, ever believed in love.

“I love her. Henry paused at the thought. He didn’t even know what that was, or what it mean, but he felt it, burning in his chest–feeling fuzzy inside. Nothing else seemed to matter. No the somber crowd of camp workers drifting to the barbed-wire gate. Not the machine guns in the towers above.
Henry began to wave, then lowered his hand slowly as the words, “I love you” rolled off his tongue. She was too far away to hear it, or maybe he didn’t make a sound, but she knew, and her mouth echoed the same statement as her hand touched her heart and pointed at Henry. He simply smiled and nodded, turning back to the gate.”

I still can’t form the words to describe it, but I know what it is.  I found myself asking boys: “If we were 11 and I was Japanese and you were Chinese, would you come see me in an internment camp, despite every risk it had?” I know, I know. It’s not a realistic question in any way. But that’s what I need in life. And now, after all of these years, I can finally say that I believe in love. And I’ll even begrudgingly admit that it took the help of two fictional children to teach me what it truly was.

As I’ve already mentioned, I also learned to cry. I sobbed myself to sleep the past few nights as well.  I can’t tell you what I was crying for, because, quite frankly, I have no idea. But what I can tell you is this: I feel so much different. And I feel so damn much better.

And that’s it. In less than 300 pages, my world changed completely. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know how it will impact me in the long run, I know that it is exactly what I needed. I know what I want, I know what I need, and I know, with a reinforcing fervor, that I am doing exactly what I should be in life.

With that, I leave you all with one final mission. Something to add to your list of New Year’s Resolutions, if you will. Read a book. Any book will do. But lose yourself in it. Become attached to the characters. Imagine their struggles, their triumphs. Experience what they experience. And then, allow it to change you. And see what happens.