Being “that girl”.

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Here it is. I’m going to explain on how I am “that girl” and what this phrase means to me. This is a very cathartic blog for me, not something I’d usually do. I keep my real, personal feelings to myself, usually, but I am now exhausted and this is a nice release. Maybe I’m not, “that girl” to you, but that is how I feel right now. It’s a pile up over five years of dating, exploring, experimenting and trying to find love. Not that I have been searching– that is far from the truth but I have always wanted that Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet and take care of me. (Money, chocolate, wine, puppies, sex, money – it’s both amazingly wonderful and annoying that I can get myself these by myself and I don’t need anyone. *Sigh*) BUT, Wait, what? Romey Norton, miss independent, confident, fun, Romey Fucking Norton would genuinely like someone decent in her life? A relationship? What? Of course. That is why I am “that girl.”

I am “that girl” that, for some reason, guys look at and get the impression that I am only in this for a “good time” or something “fun” and “not serious”. After years of this, I have got sick of questioning why and trying.

So, I came up with my own answers, and they’re not pretty. I’m pretty. I’m fun, I’m educated, I’m strong – on the surface and that screams something like “oh, she’s not got time for a relationship” or “hey, this one will only want something quick and fun because she’s got other things in her life.” (I don’t want to insult people here who are happily in a relationship or working things out, but I am sick of the repetition I am experiencing.)

Usually, I’ll meet a guy online, but I have met some at University, through friends and in bars, so I cannot completely blame the Tinder/Bumble online social circle for the men that have been in my life. I also want to point out that they are okay guys – not murderers or child snatches (as far as I am aware). Many haven’t got past a first date, many have. I’ve dated the good guy, the nice guy, the nice-but-not-really-nice-that’s-what-I-tell-myself-nice guy, the geek, the hunk, the jock, the student, the teacher, them all. (Give a guy a chance, right?)

I’ve been told I should date. It might surprise you that I went two years in my twenties without talking/dating/sleeping with anyone, and it did feel like a waste of my youth and my energy. I have so much to give. Therefore, let the love-life begin!

What usually happens is, we talk, maybe for weeks, opening-up, sharing stories, and then we will date. Eventually a question will come up of “what do you want?” or “what are you looking for?” and I’m always thinking “well if he’s asking he’s in only for sex” which is usually the case, so I’ll apologise (yes, fucking apologise) for not only wanting that and for taking an interest in you and I’ll move on. Shake hands, goodbye friend. At least these guys are honest. They’re not the five guys (Mmm. Food.) that I’ve had over the last two years, who I’ve “dated” who I’ve spent time and emotion on, to and have opened up to, and them open up to me, who eventually become too “busy” or “not ready” for a relationship.

OH BUT A FEW MONTHS AFTER ME THEY’LL BE IN A RELATIONSHIP.

NICE.

This usually happens after we’ve slept together. One, twice, maybe ten times.

When I show myself.

I am incredibly cheesy and cringe. I will tag you in memes, I’ll send you voice notes and I will send you things in the mail, because I find it funny! I do this, because I find it hilarious and I want to entertain. But, “that girl” can’t do that, because that means she’s not “that girl” and she’s “the girl” but I’m not “the girl” for you, am I? Hey, you might not be the guy for me, but I’m looking at you with opportunity and desire to grow, not with the intention of fucking you and then fucking off.

I can’t say I’m disappointed because when I look back, I’m happy I’m not with these people, but it’s the reputation of events. It is making me struggle with trusting what people say, and what people do. I have always been open and honest and ready to love, and it is incredibly rare when you find someone who fits your personality – everyone has downfalls and flaws, but now I can’t even bring myself to believe a guy is telling me his real name or age. I don’t want it to sound like every guy I meet I want to be with, I don’t. What I want is for guys to not look at me like I am an achievement or a goal.

Last year I thought I found someone who genuinely cared about me – went to the museums I wanted to go to, ate where I wanted to eat, enjoyed the cringe and madness, but it turned out to be one big lie. I could write another blog on liars, but I won’t. The simple, truth of it was, he was “entertaining” me to get “some” and attention and affection. (He had issues) and it really hurt. It made me realise that hey, this is all just one big game.

Then recently, I began to care about someone, or I already did and feelings might surface (how fucking dare they) and it turns out that – HEY – I was some sort of fling, or a challenge they had completed, some finished business and they’re onto another girl/ting, but I bet they’ll be in a relationship soon. Well, thanks for letting me know.

It is my choice to be intimate with these people, and I enjoy it, but I don’t enjoy this feeling of being completely used for your confidence or your goals – when I genuinely care.

That is why I am “that girl”, people assume I am just in it for a good time, probably based on the way I look and act, so shame on you.

I don’t know how to change this, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. It’s comforting and awful that this is the same case for a lot of my friends. So, sisters, we really are doing it for ourselves.

I’ll keep hoping, keep hoping that one day someone will come into my life and think I am the most amazing creature they’ve ever met, either in our first moments of meeting, or months after, and it’ll be good. It’ll be something. Something different.

Or it’ll be another selfish guy, and you’ll see my beautiful headshot on the news after I’ve been on a murder spree.

Happy Monday.

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