dating

I’m not proud to type any of this. Not proud at all. I wish I could forget that I ever nearly let Instagram ruin my relationship.

I don’t remember what it feels like to have a first date, a first kiss, or even to be interested in someone. I don’t know how to start dating again.

I smiled and walked out the door, choosing myself over a guy, choosing my business over a person who wanted me to be someone I no longer was.

“Do you have problems eating in front of people?” my date said. When my restrictive anorexia is bad, I tend to limit food consumption.

Deciding to tell your partner that you want to see a therapist can be scary. And sometimes it's even a good idea to see someone together!

Here’s the thing about faking it: eventually, the truth comes out, or someone gets hurt. So I'm going to talk about my virginity on first dates!

I tried my best to impress and please. I worked on the farm, helped in the kitchen, and tried emphasizing all the other reasons Mick was in New York (work, friends), but none of it felt like enough. No matter what I did, I was still American, and Mick was still going back to the states.

I don’t even like sharing a bowl of popcorn; why would I want to share a person?