Stop Telling Me I Have High Standards When I Just Want Men To Recognize My Worth

Stop Telling Me I Have High Standards When I Just Want Men To Recognize My Worth

I've figured out what I want and what I desire, and no one is going to tell me otherwise

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On my Twitter feed, I constantly see tweets about men reaching the 'bare minimum' for their girlfriends and wives. I get that it's cute when your boyfriend remembers little things about you or goes out of his way to do something for you. What's not cute is when you bend over backward for him and he throws a scrap of romance or appreciation every month your way. Have women lowered their standards so much that when your significant other dares to text you back or picks up takeout for you (after you probably begged him to), you deem him the most amazing guy in the world? That's not amazing if anything it should be a given. Your boyfriend giving you basic human rights and listening to you does not make him husband material.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people tell me I'm too picky, especially when it's about guys. I'm not going to sit here and apologize for recognizing my worth. I'm not going to be amazed by a man's capability to respond to a text message in a fashionable manner or remember whether or not that I like ranch. I deserve someone who knows all that and more; who surprises me not because I asked him but because he wants to. Women are giving men credit for things that they probably don't even know they're doing - I swear a cute boy could breathe and they'd somehow turn it into a personality trait.

Why are men allowed to have high standards but women have to over and over again settle for less? By the way, it's rarely a guy who tells me my standards are too high but rather my girl friends around me. It's as if they're trying to justify their shitty boyfriends! I mean why do you care so much if I prefer tall guys to short guys when I'm sure you did the same when you were looking for your significant other?

Why should I have to settle? Some of my girl friends did, and they're probably jealous at the fact I just won't. Some of them didn't, and yet they still say my standards are too high. I shouldn't have to fight for my boyfriend's attention or praise him every time he looks in my direction. If he's your boyfriend he should want to do that stuff anyway. With hook-up culture and the downfall of serious relationships, I think most college women think that if their boyfriend does the bare minimum then they're getting more than everyone who's friends with benefits isn't. Don't you understand that you are worth more than a boyfriend who sometimes remembers to text you back?

I'm not saying that you should be looking for a guy so specific to your standards that you ignore everyone else around you. I'm saying why isn't it okay to search for a guy that exceeds the bare minimum? Someone who I'm actually physically attracted to and makes me feel respected and loved. I've learned a lot from guys I've dated so I know what I want in a future partner. I'm done listening to people telling me to settle or lower my standards because, to be honest, my standards aren't even that high. It's not like I'm waiting for Chris Hemsworth look alike to fall in love with me (even though that be a dream come true). I just want more than the bare minimum, because I will give my future boyfriend more than an average relationship and I deserve the same.

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To The Boy I Almost Fell In Love With, We Weren't Ready For Each Other

I don't think we were ready to be what we wanted to be for each other.

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Hey you,

Look who's showing affection now.

I know you've been wondering if I'd mention you. I didn't think I would, period. Not this soon, that's for sure.

I'll start by saying neither of us meant for each other to play even a little bit of a role in each other's lives. Not as meaningful as we did, at least.

But no matter how unsure I was, no matter how many times I wanted to block you and leave everything unsaid, I couldn't help fighting through it just to know you.

The time we spent together never felt like enough. And I can't even speak in past tense because you're still here sometimes. Like when I think of your smile and how every part of me craved and waited anxiously for it to make an appearance, especially if it was because of me.

I used to think of it more, back when I thought you'd realize you made a mistake. Back when I thought we'd pick up where we left off.

I knew when I met you I wanted to show you every side of me. But what caught me by surprise, just like most things about you did, is that every time a layer of mine shed, yours did as well.

There are pieces of me, naked and raw. Physically and emotionally, locked away in your brain that nobody else will ever see. At least not in the way you did.

The purpose you had in my life was slight, in the long run. But regardless, you had a purpose and I want you to know that. I forgive you. I hope you know that me, out of all people, knows we can't control ourselves sometimes. Sometimes, we fuck up. Most of the time, it makes no fucking sense. All of the time, we'll try to figure it out and never will.

I don't think I'm falling in love with you anymore.

I'm sorry for saying I've never felt that way before about anyone, that was a lie.

I'm also sorry for being 8 shots deep when I said it.

That morning, I wanted us to cross paths again. I didn't think for a second you'd ever make me an option. I kinda thought I was your exception, your "just this once" because that's what you were to me.

This morning, I'm not sure we serve a purpose in each others lives. Not yet at least. Or ever for that matter. I don't think we were ready to be what we wanted to be for each other. And because I don't wanna reach out to you personally, I want you to know that I can't wait to see both of our many dreams come true.

I'm thankful for all of the little trips we took, stories and giggles shared, secrets whispered, ideas we cultivated, heart palpitations, and everything in between.

I won't forget.

I also won't cowardly push it away, like you're doing.

I don't blame timing, the universe, karma or any of that bullshit for the way things turned out.

At least on my end, I knew when I met you it wasn't forever. I think at the end of the day we both knew we were going to be the inspiration we needed to keep moving forward. Maybe a little more inspiration than we bargained for.

And maybe a little more forward than we bargained for, too.

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To The Guy Who Told Me Not To Be Me, Nice Try

He will not silence me.

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He told me to never cut my hair short because it would make me look too masculine.

So, I sent him pictures of three different pixie cuts and asked him which one I should get.


He told me not to wear red lipstick because it made me look like a slut.

So, I bought every shade from blush rose to maroon.


He told me not to buy heels taller than one and a half inches tall because it's unattractive for a girl to be taller then the guy she is with.

My favorite shop was having a sell on a beautiful pair of three-inch stilettos. I bought them.


He told me that I was putting on a few extra pounds and that I shouldn't order dessert on our next dinner date.

Did he honestly think I would say no to the red velvet cake that our waitress offered?


He flirted with the waitress, saying that I should "look more like her."

I wrote down his number on our receipt before we left the restaurant.


He told me not to leave my "feminine products" on the counter because it's embarrassing.

When his friends came over for guys night, I organized my tampons and pads nicely on the bathroom shelf.


He told me that I couldn't talk to my best friend of 12 years because he was a guy.

I invited him to watch a movie with us at the local cinema the following week.


He told me not to order wine at the bar with him and his work friends because he didn't want me to seem "trashy."

I ordered jack and coke instead.


He told me not to be a feminist because it meant that I thought I was better than him.

My new "GIRL PWR" shirt is my favorite.


He told me to be silent.

He told me that I think too much and that I speak what I think too often.

He told me nobody cares about what I have to say.

He told me that the things I say don't matter.


So, I wrote a poem about him.

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