Category: Selfesteem


We all know stories about arranged marriages when the family find the perfect spouse. And yes, we think it’s weird, unfair, ridiculous and humiliating. But what if the future bride arranges her own marriage?

She was 32, fairly good-looking, independent, willful and above all – sick and tired of dating. You know the drill: trying to look your best, to please, compromise, be tolerant, patient, interesting, funny, will-he-call-should-I-call-him-and-how-long-should-I-wait, hell, the whole popular package. Our heroine had really enough of it. So she decided that it’s about damn time that she gets married and leave the whole complicated dating scene. For good.

So she picks a guy, someone she’s been told that he is a good and reliable man, checks his Facebook page and… simply sends him a message. Something completely ordinary like: “Hi there! Would like to go out for a drink?”. He responds, they meet, she’s not pushy or complicated and then offers him to take another drink next week. He agrees, she seems like a pleasant person. The week after that they went on a simple dinner, then on a weekend out of town and before you know it, 3 months later, they started to live together. After 9 months she calls telling that they are engaged to be married. Just like that.

Through all that time, we’re all been baffled – how in the world you can just decide to get married for a guy you don’t even know, before you spent one day with him? Then she simply said: “Look, I knew what I want – a good, peaceful life with a nice man. And he is a nice man, so what’s not to love? I love him, our life together and our days to come. In the end, it’s simple, really, you love what you choose and I have chosen to be happy. Yes, I could chase rainbows for years, but a quiet happiness is what I really need.”

And she did it. She actually did it. Married the guy, had a son, and they are still living happily ever after. Because that’s what she decided, to be happy on her own terms.

You know what, after all those love shipwrecks, I can honestly say that she deserves every dash of joy she can get.

After all, don’t we all?

Because we deserve it, vol. Husbands choosing187.

Advertisements

You see a cute little top. Not too pricey. You realize they are selling it in many colors. Fabulous! Then you start thinking how great it will look with your summer jeans. The fabric on the picture looks amazing, it’s falling exactly as it should. Oh, and you bought that charming bag at the end of the last summer which would be perfect in that combo! Yeah, that’s your look for this year’s hot summer days.

But then you stop. You remember that you can’t fit in those jeans anymore. And you tried. God knows you tried. You’ve been pulling holding your breath until you almost fainted, tried lying on your bed, cursing yourself and all those pastries you had in the past few months. Sooooo, the cute top is off.

Then you remember your feet. It’s their grand opening, they have to look good. Real good. You take the cautious look and… No, that is not flattering. You should really get right to it. And what happened to your waist? Where did it go? Just vanished, without a simple “off for holidays” or “call me if you need me” note. Looking at your wardrobe you realize that ALL of your clothes are meant for somebody thin, not you. What the hell are you supposed to wear this summer?

And then you see all those memes “yay, the summer is here!” and you want to punch all of their smug faces. Or at least move to Island for the next three months. Which turns out to be a bad idea because apparently, Island is not giving the seasonal asylum to appareallingly challenged.

You’re left with no choice, stuck here with all your micro clothes. Thinking if someone will call you to a toga party.

Because you deserve it, 177. Summer is coming

 

QueenThere was a time when she would wait for his call. The same call which would mean that He is on his way. His arrival was always something special: flowers in his hand, a nice dinner, lots of laughs, and pretty good sex. She loved the way he was looking at her with those deep brown eyes, always hiding a spark of something unsaid. He was polite, kind and thoughtful. And distant.

Yes, distant. At first, she was sure that it was just a result of physical distance. He lived in another city and they didn’t have the luxury of everyday things, like a simple afternoon stroll in the park. And she didn’t mind, not really, thinking that these are the perks of the long-distance relationship – every date and every weekend are special. But a year passed. Then another. Their third anniversary came so quickly that it surprised even her. But after four years, she found herself thinking. Will they ever be a normal couple?

She started noticing all those sometimes happy and sometimes miserable couples on the street. Especially the last ones. They were important because they had a privilege to get into a fight, to get bored with each other, to have to luxury of experiencing dirty socks tossed away on the bedroom floor. It made her restless. So she started to count – they were seeing each other twice a month, sometimes less, most of her nights were made of the lonely evenings in front of the TV and emptiness of her own bed, her friends were talking about their children or the quality of their dates… All in all, her list was sad. Empty. Like her.

They say that longing is a good thing only if it’s short. If it grows, it becomes a frustration. And that’s exactly how she felt, frustrated and disappointed. So next time when they met she started The Conversation. Trying to find out will they ever have a future in which they will occupy the same place and time. That time he didn’t answer. After two weeks, she tried again. And again. He was polite, but he always managed to avoid the answer. And then she had it. She got mad and asked him directly. And he finally gave her his stand – he felt that their thing was perfect. He didn’t have the need to make it “common”, as he underlined it.

She wasn’t shocked. Not even surprised. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. So she gave herself little time to think about how much is she afraid of loneliness. And it turned out that she wasn’t scared at all. How could she, after all, she was practically alone all those years. The decision was made, she called him and said what she had on her heart. Strangely, he was surprised. It turned out that it never occurred to him that she is not happy with their relationship. And they split. Oh, he called few times, he even came one evening holding roses in his hand, trying to convince her that their thing was special.

But she didn’t buy it. Actually, she felt deliberated. She realized that all those years she was carrying an anxious lump on her chest. That every evening in the front of her TV she was waiting for his call or even just a short text. Her time was her own. And it felt great. She felt great. Finally free. She wasn’t Miss Lonely Waiting, she became Liberty from the House of Solitude. The great large house where she was the ruler.

It’s been a year since the coronation. And she still feels the happiness of her independence in every second of every day. Maybe someday a prince will arrive. But then again, maybe it would be better if he didn’t. Her reign is strong and beautiful and now it would take a really special knight to fight for his place by her throne.

Because she deserves it, 175.