This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Even If You Don't Feel Like You Need To, You Want To

Sometimes things happen in your life and you don't feel like you should have to tell anyone about them. It's your own personal life, your choices, your thoughts, who else should be privy to those? You realize things about yourself and you like the idea of keeping it to yourself.

But then you remember you like to write. That strange emotions and feelings make more sense when you write them down and share them with others. It's not for the attention or for any sort of admiration, but there is a catharsis in telling people something about yourself you're only just starting to understand.

It's something I've wrestled with the past couple years, only really became obvious to me this past year, and something I've accepted in the past couple months. There were things I needed to sort out in my own life before I could figure any of this shit out.

I'm bisexual.

I don't know why that looks so weird and feels so weird to write out. When I think about it, it makes complete sense, but seeing it on paper makes me feel strange. I'm guessing that's because I've always thought of myself as an obnoxiously straight girl, an ally yes, but straight. I've always liked guys, perhaps was a bit too obsessed at times with them in middle/high school, and always dated guys.

On the other hand, I've always thought girls were pretty. Girls have a very touchy-feely attitude about them so I thought all girls thought like this. It's normal to look at a girl and think about her, think she's pretty, etc. It's even a bit normal to have crushes on girls, right? Innocent, school-girl crushes.

But then in the past few years it's been more than a few crushes. Always random, out of the blue, but there have been girls in my life who have given me butterflies in the most confusing ways. Thoughts lingered perhaps a bit too long and their smiles would get to me.

Being in a relationship for almost a year and a half now, I'd consider myself a very devout girlfriend. Cheating is the ultimate rule-breaker for me and I've never really been able to have legitimate feelings for someone else while in a relationship. I could appreciate someone is attractive, even have a bit of a crush, but it stops there.

You can see now why it was hard to identify if this was anything more than appreciating cute ladies around me. When I'm in love, I find it impossible to feel anything more than admiration toward other people. I'm stuck on one guy in particular and I don't see falling out of love with him any time soon. He completes me in every way possible and is honestly my best friend. He still makes me blush even after all this time.

So...what's the point of all of this? Why even think all of this through or worry about this at all? For me, for myself, and entirely for my own sense of calm. As a constant over-thinker, it helps to understand my thoughts and feelings even if I'm not going to act on them. It explains lots of things over the years and why I was always so interested in the concept of bisexuality.

Perhaps, most importantly, bisexuality isn't how I would describe it. I hate labels (oh, how "millennial" of me) and like to think of it more of a fluid sexuality. People are awesome. People are cute. I think cute people are awesome, regardless of genitalia. No, I'm not running away from the awesomeness in my life that I honestly think comes around once in a lifetime, but it helps me get me.

This declaration, if you will, is not to lay out or explain away past or future actions. It's to make sense of the insanity inside my head, make sense of what I see and feel, and come to a better understanding of what makes Molly Jane so Molly Jane. I am me, odd bits and all, happily in love but someone who also appreciates a wide spectrum of people.

Beauty is beauty to me. Not having to put a marker or an explanation on what kind of beauty I see in the world is strangely freeing in a rather confusing way.

Did this post make sense? No, not really. Do I think it was necessary and will I probably regret posting it afterwards? Meh, I rarely regret posting things about myself (again, how "millennial" of me). Does this change much if anything about me? Nope, just that I can admire a nice pair of boobies and adorable man butt. And isn't that the point of life? Boobies and man butt? Indeed it is.

New life slogan coined.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Why the Idea of "The One" is Wrong

I have always had an issue with this quintessential, all-encompassing idea of "The One," the one man you'll meet who was meant for you and only for you and will be your own true love and perfect soul mate. This is the person God meant to be your partner in life and when you find them, you'll know instantly, the connection will be real, and it'll be intense and all-consuming.

Does this strike anyone else as utter horseshit?

Something about the idea of "The One" seems horribly unromantic. It takes away the beauty and chaos that is trekking through the jungle of a relationship. If you are meant for one person, you're taking a rather passive and backseat approach to your love live; you have no control over it and therefore no responsibility. It's a cold, calculated algorithm that determines your destiny. You have no power over who is chosen for you and it just happens. If love is not something you have to struggle with and rather happens because it's supposed to, it takes the work out of it. Don't let anyone fool you; love is hard work. It should be. It shouldn't be a horrible, painstaking bloodbath but there should be trials and tribulations.

Another thing is the religious aspect which I've heard connected to the idea of "The One" and some sort of romantic journey we're all apparently on. I consider myself a Christian and am well read and learned in many Judeo-Christian works. Why in the hell would God pick one person for you that is going to be your everything? This assumes that anyone who ends up alone in adulthood is either: a) unloved by God, b) missed their opportunity by some random situation, or c) their "One" died in a horrible bus crash years ago. If you get divorced, did you ruin someone else's chance of finding their "One" if they become jaded by the idea of a committed relationship? If you find that you actually prefer being by yourself are you destroying the forces of the universe?

Personally, I prefer the idea that love is chance, a crazy, insane, beautiful mess of a chance. It's like those little white puffs that fly off of trees that you used to try to catch when you were a kid. If you caught one, you got to make a wish and it would come true. If you stand in one place forever, you may never get a little white puff fall perfectly into your hand. You have to run around, live your life, try out different puffs if you have to to discover what you want and need out of life.

My point is this: don't discount the idea of being with many people in your life, and I don't just mean sexually (but if you want to, by all means, go enjoy yourself, you delightful little lady!). You learn so much more about yourself by falling in love more than once. Fall in love as often and as differently as you can. I have a best friend who got it right on the first try, and I do mean she hit the jackpot. She found the love of her life on the first time around the track but most of us aren't so lucky. Don't sit idly by and say you're just waiting for "The One." Don't date a bunch of dipshits either, but take a chance once in a while.

You don't have a "One," sorry. No Prince Charming is going to come break down your door as you sit wantonly by your window waiting patiently. On the flip side you don't need to be running around tits first into everyone you can find on the street in a desperate attempt to find someone who will hang out with you. If you live your life beautifully, and I mean truly passionately with a fire unlike anything else, people will naturally be drawn to you.

So stop worrying that you haven't found "The One." You will find someone to marry someday, or you won't. Either way you'll still be a fantastic and flawless bitch. We're all guilty of over thinking love and thinking that we'll never find it in our lives. Worrying endlessly about what eternal love life may materialize based on some archaic and slightly religiously rooted idea that there is one person assigned to your vagina is stupid. You are your own woman and ladies, it's time to start acting like it.

If you are lucky enough to find love, and I mean a love that feels so real and wonderful it hurts you smile so often, do not let it go. But if you find yourself alone don't assume you will be forever and at the same time, don't assume being alone means you are going to have any less of a happy life. You make your own destiny, as corny as it sounds, and love is a fickle and difficult beast to find. If it was easy, it would take away all the fun. Be you, don't be the person you need your future husband to find. Don't worry about your future husband or even the possibility of one. Love will find you, even if not through romantic ventures, in one way or another.

But most importantly, love yourself, because out of all the uncertainty that is our human existence, you are the one person you can count on. Love yourself in all parts of life; love every last damn piece of you. You are not the sum of parts predetermined for you by someone else. You are who you let yourself be. And that person is pretty fucking special.

Monday, March 3, 2014

Holy Three (Almost Four) Months, Batman!

Have I mentioned lately that I suck? Because I do. I cannot believe it's been four months since I've posted anything on this blog. The worst thing is that I link to it in my current staff bio (more on that later) and there was nothing new even to reference. I feel horrible.

To be fair, I have been terribly busy. The move went off without any major bumps in the road and after last week from a trip back up to Milwaukee, I finally have some substantial furniture. Within a couple weeks here in Carol Stream (the Chicago suburb I'm currently living in, hopefully I can move closer to downtown sometime in the next year or two), I had two new jobs! I'm still working at Longhorn in Schaumburg and am meshing in nicely with the awesome people who work there.

Some pictures of the new apartment:
Bedroom, new desk, and my pup.

Kitchen and not yet assembled kitchen table.
Living room and my little shrine to traveling.
My little reading corner.

The first of the two new jobs is as a bank teller in Glen Ellyn. It took two long months of training before I started, but this past week, I finally started on my own drawer and I'm really enjoying it. The second new job is a lot more exciting to me on an overall "goal" level: staff writer for FemaleIntel.com. Shortly after I moved an old family friend and former neighbor messaged me asking if I'd be interested in working for a site he was developing and obviously my answer was yes! I started on as a contributing writer and became a staff writer in mid-January.

Writing articles for Female Intel has been a necessary and cathartic outlet for me. The first two months here were stressful, beyond stressful, especially with my new tighter budget and a few unforeseen expenses (more gas money needed, stuff for Lucy when she moved in with me, new plates and licence, etc.). Life was difficult at the restaurant with the craziest fucking winter I can remember. I made due but it wasn't nearly as much as it would have been if there weren't six inches of snow every week or -40 degree windchill.
Check out my articles here: http://femaleintel.com/author/mollys/


Writing again felt good, and it still does. Fiction wise I've had a terrible writer's block for almost a year now, since last April or so. I don't know exactly what happened to cause it but I can't seem to shake it. I started feeling down on myself, like I was stuck in this rut and had had the key to my own creativity stolen from me. Female Intel gave me a couple bobby pins to break my way back into that creative sphere.

Overall though I'm happy with the move. It took a couple weeks but by January, even though Luke and I both agree that by all accounts it was a miserable month, I realized I had made the right choice. Being closer to him meant so much more to be than I ever thought possible. I felt like I had an arm missing. I figured out how to function with only one arm since I'm a strong and confident woman (thank you, DSHA) and most days could forget I was missing it all together. But that doesn't mean though that I forgot what it was like to have two arms.

The first night I got in, I had no bed yet (still back in Iowa City), and no furniture to speak of; I only had a couple boxes and suitcases to my name. When Luke got to my new apartment to come pick me up to stay at his place until my bed came in the next week, my heart actually stopped for a second. It felt surreal, like there was no way on earth that the long wait was finally over. We got into my place and that first hug, that first kiss, there were so many strong emotions wrapped up into them. I actually started to tear up a bit. He just stood there and hugged me and wouldn't let go.
Luke and I the day after I moved to IL.


Since then the high intensity of emotions has waned obviously and things feel back to "normal," but better even. Long distance did bring us closer together somehow. We just celebrated out one year anniversary in early February and our second Valentine's Day together and couldn't be happier. He's my right hand man, one of my best friends, and one of the only people I know who puts up with everything I do. When I burp at him he responds, "Bless you." You can't beat that.

Lucy loves it here even though it took her a good three weeks to get used to being home alone for eight or so hours a day. I will admit though that Lucy loves Luke so much more than me. If it's a choice between the two of us, it's him 90% of the time. When we go stay over at his place, she runs right up to his door and jumps up and down waiting for me to open it so she can kiss him. We're a great happy little family right now.
My little princess, Lucy. She knows she's cute.

Though my Fridays and Saturdays, when I work both jobs, can get me down and leave me feeling fully drained, I wouldn't give any of this up. I feel challenged on a daily basis and insanely lucky for everything that has happened to me. My bestest friend in the world, Michelle, got engaged recently and has asked me to be her Maid of Honor. I can't wait to start doing some legit planning on some raunchy parties for her. Last month I turned 23, my lucky number, so that means this year has to keep going well, right? By the power of the lucky number, I say it must.
23rd birthday, bitch!