#RelationshipGoals: Buy me Nikes or we are done

Social media is my playground for every goal I have to date. I see it now… Fresh new Nikes wrapped nicely and waiting for me just because or pushing the grocery cart when I’m hanging off the edge because I want to feel the wind in my nappy hair when I go down the ice cream isle. Now that’s #relationshipgoals.

Trust me I can whip out my phone and show you the three separate color-coded Pinterest boards I have for every topic...relationship goals, friendship goals, and even parent goals. My dad says that it isn’t real life but he is just one sly comment away from being exchanged for the awesome parents I have pinned in my collection.

But he is right and I’ve come to see that my collections don’t always fit me. It doesn’t work when I’m fighting with my significant other because I’m being sensitive and stubborn. My goals are thrown to the side when all my friends are at work and I eat my lunch alone. Let me tell you that they sure as hell don’t translate when my mom tells me what to do when I’m grumpy and tired at 8 a.m.

Every time I think that we can all poop rainbows and butterflies and be exactly like my #goals, I get a swift punch of the truth. I realize that these type of goals I aren’t my reality. Every relationship I have with people in my life is unique. Let’s just say that they all have their own culture. No two are exactly alike and some are more accepted than others. However, the times I feel the most unhappy in any relationship is when I have expectations that do not fit the culture we have created together. The person I am working to create a healthy bond with doesn’t always look or act like my hopes and dreams. In reality, the more I think I will have Nikes at my doorstep, the more disappointed I become.

Beyond social media and pinterest boards, life has never been a one-size-fits-all thing. It has taken a lot of tears and fistfulls of curls to figure out that what is right for me is up to… me *cue aha moment*. Sometimes, what happens in my relationships goes above what works for others. Sometimes, when I stop looking beyond for the answers, I find that the norms and dominating opinions don’t always apply. Only between us is where I find everything beautiful about connecting, openly communicating, and caring for another person. That beauty doesn’t fit in mega pixels, it doesn’t always feel like ice cream and wind in my hair, but I know for sure that it’s real as hell.

Are you Girlfriend Material?

Am I girlfriend material? Kind of a daunting question when I asked myself in such a straightforward way. The sort of question that causes you to look yourself in the mirror and contemplate your life while brushing your teeth. I looked down at my unshaved legs (I don’t care if it’s been 3 weeks Mom. I have a strict policy about shaving), my top bun, and the bruises on my legs from deadlifting. Are girlfriends supposed to look like this? Scratch the looks portion, I will just reassess every past relationship for the 50th time and find my answer.

I revisited my past and realized that all of my time as a girlfriend, a side hoe, a “wifey-material-but-not-enough-to-commit-to” was proof that that maybe I wasn’t girlfriend material after all. In the past, I always thought it took being myself. But not really myself. The “better” version of me. The kind that was insanely giving with the uncanny ability to control my crazy enough to be as cool as Netflix’s best friend Chill. Oh and also somehow become a person that did not fart or poop at all. So, a phony really that could not make it as an acceptable partner. How could someone enjoy my company when I was cookie cutting out my rough edges just to be something to someone?

However, there was a shift, an aha moment of sorts in my view of what relationship material actually means. The more I dated by being phony, the more I desperately needed and subsequently found my “Eat, Pray, Love” moment in life...minus the love part. So really just me eating and taking a divine sabbatical from all things dating. The more I ate, the more I dug through my own crap. The more I sifted through my baggage and looked at it from different angles, the more I began to welcome it. And the more I allowed myself to shamelessly embrace it like a woman does to a wine bottle, the more I saw that my perfect partner was right in front of me the whole time: Me. I stopped trying so damn hard to be girlfriend material and become more me material.

I learned the most about myself in my few year flirtation with the nun life. The great reveal is that I did in fact discover the rather small way to be girlfriend material:

Let that shit go right now. Trying to find out what makes you perfect for a relationship is possibly the reason that it is so hard to date. More likely than not, the person you need to date is the prickly legged person staring at yourself in the mirror. Grab a razor and take yourself on a date. I guarantee you the moment you begin letting go of your attempts at love is the moment that the universe will deliver you the material you’ve been asking for.