i highly recommend you find yourself a clingy (healthy) lovey dovey partner who is super excited about you. life's too short to spend it with someone who act like showing love is a chore.
I think my issue is I’m too clingy for this generation. I want to talk to someone all the time. I like talking about my feelings for that person. I like reassurance. I like making them a priority without even knowing where I stand & I get pissed when none of this is reciprocated
I said yes to a date this weekend and this man immediately asked me whats my budget so he could “plan accordingly.”
I’ve never lost attraction so quickly in my life.
You ever sit and think about it…and realize the only reason it lasted as long as it did is because you kept accepting things you shouldn’t have? You kept being patient. Kept understanding. Kept giving chances. Instead of choosing yourself sooner.
maturing is realizing none of us are easy to be with. It's about who's willing to stay committed to understanding you and actually wants to grow with you.
My man said something to me that really stuck.
He told me, “I’m not here to control you. I’m not your dad, I’m your partner. You’re free to make your own choices. Just understand that every choice has consequences. If you choose something that damages what we’ve built, that’s on you.”
He said, “I’ll always tell you when something hurts me or crosses a boundary, because that’s what healthy communication looks like. But if you keep stepping over the line after I’ve shown you where it is, then you were never really protecting us to begin with.”
And honestly, that’s what accountability in a relationship sounds like.
One night I asked my mom how she knew my dad was “the one.” She didn’t say butterflies. She didn’t say grand gestures.
She said, “There was a year I wasn’t okay.”
She told me after I was born, she felt overwhelmed all the time. She stopped talking as much. Stopped laughing as loudly. She said she felt guilty for not being her usual self.
And my dad didn’t demand the “old her” back.
He just started doing small things.
He would wake up earlier to pack her lunch.
He’d fold the laundry without announcing it.
He’d sit beside her on the couch and just hold her hand without asking a single question.
She said one night she finally cried and told him she felt like she was failing at everything.
He didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t give a motivational speech.
Didn’t say “but you have so much to be grateful for.”
He just listened.
And the next week?
He didn’t treat her like she was fragile.
Didn’t bring it up during arguments.
Didn’t use it as proof that she was “too emotional.”
He loved her the same. Calm. Steady. Normal.
My mom looked at me and said,
“That’s when I knew. Love isn’t the loud days. It’s who stays gentle on the quiet ones.”
And suddenly their 20+ years together made sense.
Real love doesn’t panic when you’re not at your best.
It adjusts.
It waits.
It stays.