Chelsea Fagan

You are more brave about going out on first dates, and more confident in the fact that you are someone that people should be excited about dating.

You wish that men, for once in their lives, could be judged as a whole by the actions of one, or deemed just slightly less human because they had sex with just one too many people.

Always be clean and respectful when using a public restroom, instead of making a mess for both the custodian and the person who follows you.

In many ways, I am selfish when it comes to love, and I think many people are, as well. I enjoy the idea of committing to one person in a way that no one but the two of us will experience,and not sharing it with others.

Everyone wears their jeans at least five times before washing them, it’s perfectly okay and it doesn’t make you dirty.

You imagine what they would look like laughing, telling a secret, running to catch a taxi at the end of a perfect first date.

Erase the idea that a woman can ever “owe” you sex for any reason, or that her sexuality is a commodity to be bartered with.

For a long time after seeing that movie, I thought that being with someone who made me angry — someone with whom I fought as passionately as I loved — was the only real sign of connection.

I had begun to term you as my first “real” love, because there were things behind you that no longer seemed to make sense in the face of your existence. How could that have been love, when this is clearly it?

Yes, they had an ex. Yes, they had sex. It was probably good sex. They said they loved each other, and had an awesome time, and were very happy for some time. Stew over that as much as you want, it’s not going away.

Go for a long run with one of your favorite podcasts in your headphones, letting yourself get lost in whatever they’re talking about. Alternate between walking and jogging/running so you can sustain yourself for a long period of time, and try not to come back home until the podcast is over.

It can become addictive, the feeling of endless waiting punctuated by the occasional moment of a text or call or vague indicator of affection which can tide you over for another few weeks or so.

How many friends you have. One is enough. A hundred is enough. And there is no need to falsely upgrade acquaintances to “friend” status in your mind simply to fill out the ranks. A true friend is rare, and we don’t need to make it a competition for who has the most.

Developing a serious crush on an internet friend is nothing short of emotional suicide, as the distance is something that, while already a pain in the ass, becomes completely heartbreaking.

No, you are not allowed to harass your server. You are not allowed to call them names, or curse at them, or snap to get their attention, or talk to them like they’re children who don’t understand basic human interaction.

And for those on the other side, telling people that feeling one way or another about the situation is — wait for it — un-feminist, it’s just a convenient way to spin the story so that they can dogmatically force people to approve of this woman’s idiotic life choices because she has a vagina.

You’ve been dating someone long-term. You’re not sure how much you actually love them, but your partner is the kind of person who meets your parents with eager nervousness and impresses them within the first 10 minutes.

There is a confidence that comes from being alone, a happiness in the more simple pleasures that often go unnoticed when we are distracted by the presence and opinions of others.