Fed up and a lil bit lonely

Dear “Dating and Relationship Culture”,
I’m done and leaving. I can’t stand all your epic idioscyncratic whimsical nature. You’re utterly flaky, narcissistic and self serving and often flippant and flaky.

One minute you tout the merits of not settling, seeking perfection, finding someone with biometric attributes such as being {tall, short, not-so-grandiose, more muscular, a little more curvy, less veiny, blond, brunette, auburn / red-head, silver-gray, less shaky leg, better hearing, smelling-better, well cut, well hung, filled out, overflowing, a little more like a wrestler, built like a ballerina, shaved, goatee, with five o’clock shadow, long hair like a horse’s mane, onion-bootied, more junk in the trunk and thicker than molasses, less shifty-eyed, less bucktoothed, a nice rack, a great set of pearly whites, hairy chested, pierced, tatted, big boned, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…}

And then you ask for personality traits such as {smart and brainy, a bit nerdy, less nerdy, sapiosexual, gamer, punk, goth, jock, cheerleader, prom king or queen, drama queen, arty & farty, crazy, wild, straight and narrow, straight as an arrow, scarecrow, artist, witchy, lover, cowboy, old-fashioned, veteran, old-souled, party animal, night owl, accountant, speaks a different language, born leader, submissive, domme, indie, sleeper… }

Well you get the idea. You might as well be asking for a mutant multiple-personalitied hunchback beaver. Make that a unicorn with wings and carrying bags of gold.

You just can’t deal with reality.

All your portrayals in movies, TV and videos in Disney, The Bachelor and The Bachelorette and The Dating Game and Pick Up culture and swipey apps have contributed to nothing more than failed expectations, overrated and overhyped implausible situations whereby no one can possibly meet these expectations and confusion between the various genders and sexes. All the books, dating coaches, parents, friends and spouses are wrong. Stop using these as templates to indoctrinate us and fill us with your silly beliefs about love, dating, and marriage culture. Too many belief systems, systems of faith and trumped-up lies about fairy tale endings and perfect relationships and marriages without any work or commitment occurring or even the polar opposite has been touted and espoused by you. And what’s with this whole abuse and ties and cuffs junk they’re marketing to women that makes it seem like that’s sexy? I could write a better 3-book novel series and find better “smut” on a literature erotica site than what those “grey” colored trilogies had at their climatic peak shall I say.

You’ve shown me I can’t trust your deceitful concern for my well being. I don’t need your bias or your opinion or hope that I get married and have kids, or date the high school cheerleader or have to buy a house or live on an ocean waterfront. I am perfectly content with what I want and not what anyone else wants. And when I want sex I want it with whom I want it, where I want it, wherever I want it. This is a new Internet age and we’ve all seen and know what happens when that organ goes near body part number two.

Don’t lecture me with your parental concern thinking that you have a better relationship than me also, “Mom” and “Dad”, when you should be spending more time with her and she overlooks your philandering flattery ridden ways or he does the same to you and you’re on the cusp of that 50 percent divorce rate statistic they tout in the news. I don’t need you also flashing your shiny badge of your marriage lasting 20, 30, 40, 50 years together and all the blood and life has drained from you both and you’re just living in separate floors of the house trying to help each other survive rent. I won’t take that sham. Let me mess up, let me gnash my teeth and cry and kick my feet and eat spoonfuls of choco-chunky nut for a week and bang out to T. Swift and punk and emo while I get over my crush that I was destined to marry and have a zillion unborn babies that were going to never happen because you drilled it into my head that’s what would happen in the ultimate fulfillment of my relationship goals, and be not mad after I forget about ex-bf/gf #1 when I get drilled in the outhouse bathroom only a week after our breakup and dance happily in bliss of getting over it (only partially).

For goodness sakes, have you gone stark raving mad? A third of a paycheck for a shiny lil’ rock – When I can’t even afford my rent? A proposal went awry and caused someone’s life to end prematurely in a tragic way because an ill-planned underwater proposal had gone wrong? It was pretty and beautiful when Maroon 5 made a video about weddings and a guy flash-mob proposed to his girlfriend at Disneyland to Bruno Mar’s – Marry You. I cried because it was a beautiful and I’m a guy/girl/gender non-binary. I would still love this because it’s been ingrained in me so long that it’s not easy to override the 18 years of state-sponsored lectures and teachings and sex ed & birth control that they pushed on us in public schools and behind doors by the passed-down learning my parents had through home-schooling that has to follow a certain curriculum and is even partially influenced by my parents’ outdated obsolete concept about the dating world today. But I’m not so blinded to these fake illusions and castles built on sand when I can’t even afford that stuff and I could live happily without having to deal with that and worry about what it would do to the state of my retirement financials in the event of an inevitable 50-50 split.

I don’t need your concern about who I date, who I go out with. Maybe look out for me that I don’t accidentally knock up or get knocked up and have to screw up the rest of my life paying for something I’m not fully aware of or responsible enough yet, but other than that, please friends, family grand parents… BUTT OUT. Stay out of my dating life and marriage life for a minute and stop trying to give me advice about how I should live my life unless I actively ask you for it or look for it myself. Stop setting me up for useless neutered supervised chaperoned embarrassing blind dates because I’m never going to pick that person you picked simply because I’m not gonna date the younger version of who you would have dated… simply based on the fact that you picked them! And stop trying to sell me your propaganda and marketing b.s. that my wedding has to cost so much and I have to go away on some grand vacation or spend on dinner or can’t spend on dinner or that I have to make sure my man takes out the trash or learn to do things a certain way or talk to my girl or fiance a certain way. We’re all grown adults by now and even our YouTube celeb teen crushes are grown up now. We all are living in an age where we probably know more about sex, pregnancy and LGBTQ rights etc that you all failed to even define or acknowledge because of your biased backwards ways of rewriting history and censoring a large part of human life and sexuality, adult content and culture. I’m sorry but we have other things more important things to worry about caused by the problems, that cropped up from your hangups and PTSD induced often faith-based or illogical tradition-based gender-biased societal-order, … like terrorism, global warming, and financial collapse and inflation and world-wide debt, digital invasion of privacy, state surveillance and mass-control politically influenced psyops masqueraded as news. Let me be happy and eat my sugar-doused Captain Crispies just for two seconds for once, k-damit?

I’d rather be alone. Not really but I’m gonna b.s. myself into thinking that because I can’t bother to deal with the fact that life isn’t perfect and that we’re all stuck swiping right and left on our stupid cellphones that want us to give them money for upgraded features and taking selfies and posting another set of obesity-encouraging heart-health-cringeworthy meal photos rather actually spending time bonding and are no closer to having meaningful relationships in this steaming pile of planet we call Earth. I’m getting off now, but not in the way I’d like from this whirling ball in space. I actually have nowhere to go. Come to think of it, maybe I will move to Amsterdam or Sweden or some other place like that that has less hangups. I’m sure they’re happier, less inhibited and tied down.

Signed,
Another Relationship Casualty

Sarcastic commentary by our weekend dating opinion writer Jada Phair. This is the state of our current culture of “toxic masculinity”, overly done femme fatales, hypersexualized hamburger commercials and car show models, and bad dating apps, books and overly complicated courtships. As Jada puts it, “F that noise.”

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Jada Phair

Author: Jada Phair

Jada Phair is a pseudonym weekend guest contributor writing for SWM. She is a relationship writer, a punk enthusiast, female advocate and general all around bad ass. When she's not out dirtbiking and skateboarding, she's coming up with lyrics for her band and YouTube channel. Don't get on her bad side.

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