My Dating Style Discovered

Just like beauty is in the eye of the beholder, there are also no pre-determined parameters of the kind of person you’re meant to be attracted to. Some girls are attracted to guys with six packs, others like a little bit of belly. Some like them blonde some like them tall, dark and handsome and some like a combination of all, some or none of the above. After a long conversation with my friends, where we analyzed all the people I have dated or been attracted to in the past, we discovered what my weakness in men is: younger guys. Yes people, I’m a Puma (girl who dates younger guys but isn’t old enough to be considered a cougar.)

Selena Gomez, the most notorious Puma of our generation. She is two years older than her boyfriend Justin Bieber.

Selena Gomez, the most notorious Puma of our generation. She is two years older than her boyfriend Justin Bieber.

In the olden days it was only acceptable that a girl would date a guy who was older than her, and if she dared date someone younger she would be shunned from society. Ok so maybe I’m exaggerating, but it seems that couples where the girl is older than the guy are becoming both increasingly common and socially acceptable. Now lets analyze why it’s so great to date a younger guy.

1-) They try harder: They feel so lucky and excited about the fact that they have the chance to be with an older woman that they will try their best to “man up” (pun absolutely intended) and impress their Puma.

2-) They’re more fun: This depends a lot on how much older you are than your guy, but general rule of thumb a guy who is three years younger than you will be a lot funner than one who is three years older than you and is probably in a more advanced stage in his professional life than the younger guy (although this isn’t always the case, a lot of kids get their shit together from a very early age, and a lot of guys just never get their shit together.)

In "The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" Charlie who is a freshman falls for Sam who is a senior.

In “The Perks Of Being A Wallflower” Charlie who is a freshman falls for Sam who is a senior.

3-) They are very eager to please you: Both in the bedroom and outside, since they are under the illusion (false or real) that you have more experience than them and have a long trajectory of being wined and dined in really amazing places. Your younger guy will put a good amount of effort into wooing you with awesome dates and will also have a strong desire to please you and learn from you in the bedroom because he believes that your age equates to you being more knowledgeable than him.

4-) They respect you more: His mom always told him to respect his elders, and this includes the women that he dates as well ;).

5-) He will be you biggest fan: The fact that you are older sub-consciously makes him look up to you. No guy will ever be prouder of your achievements than a younger guy.

The lady who started the trend of dating younger men: Demi Moore.

The lady who started the trend of dating younger men: Demi Moore.

6-) They bring out the absolute best in you: Let’s be honest here, a girl will never take a younger guy as seriously as she would an older guy, not at first at least. This gives you an unconscious license to let your guard down and be goofier and more free-spirited than you would normally allow yourself with an older guy. With a youngster you’re not afraid to let him see you at your absolute worst, which means he will see your best side and your worst side and very likely still love you, because he sees you as his trophy (hey man! I’m dating and older chick!). Believe it or not, in the long run this will make you happier than you could ever be with a guy you feel you need to impress. And this my friends is why I absolutely love dating younger guys.

SCIENCE SAYS DIETING CAUSES DEPRESSION AND I AM SO NOT SURPRISED

Original article retrieved from Xojane.

Changing your diet drastically — restricting fat and sugar — actually create symptoms of withdrawal, which affect your dopamine levels, making you edgy, emotional, and angry. You know, LIKE A DRUG ADDICT.

A lot of things bum me out — vending machines accepting exact change only; bras whose underwire gives up the ghost too soon, but not before stabbing my tender pit-meats; walking into leftover fart in a revolving door — but nothing bums me out the way dieting does.

Sure, there can be the initial flutter of excitement that comes with buying the new permissible food, getting the hang of the new routine — be it recording the calories, the points, the carbs. But when the novelty ebbs, it leaves inside me a feeling of leaden unhappiness. Also hunger.

DP - the anatomy of a binge

I’ve dieted, in one form or another, since I was 12. I don’t remember ever thinking my body was OK. I went from not thinking about it at all to running to my mother, tears in my eyes, at the development of the livid redstretch mark etching my inner thighs. It can’t be easy to be a mom, and being a mom to a little girl and watching her struggle and fail to accept herself, mimicking your own patterns in relation to food and her body as my mother had to do, must be a special brand of heartbreaking.

I went to a nutritionist before I was a teenager. I stepped onto the accommodating scale and started down at my belly, ignoring the flashing red number. Just two rolls, I thought, I have just two rolls, that’s not so bad, I can get rid of two rolls. I watched my friends leave half-eaten cookies, thinking, “How can they do that?” To me, unfinished confection remains one of life’s greatest mysteries.

I joined the swim team because at the end of the week I could reward myself with a package of Now and Laters. I made the snacks and foods I enjoyed rewards for physical activity, putting everything from chocolate bars to mashed potatoes on a pedestal. I counted calories and stepped onto the Stairmaster with whatever book I was reading.

I’d think about how when I was skinny, everything would be different. I lost weight and gained weight and lost weight and gained weight, but any change in my life that happened didn’t coincide with there being less of me. I continued climbing imaginary stairs, directing montages about a big romance and a skinny me set to the music of Alanis Morissette. So in other words, I continued to bork my relationships with food, my body and reality.

Even as the pounds came off my still-developing body, I was unhappy. This article discusses how changing your diet drastically — restricting fat and sugar — actually create symptoms of withdrawal, which affect your dopamine levels, making you edgy, emotional, and angry. You know, LIKE A DRUG ADDICT. It’s a parallel people have made before — and while the similarities are there, here’s the big difference: you need food to live. There is no telling yourself that once you get through withdrawal it will be the last time — you have to eat food forever.

So in addition to contending with my self-worth issues, and the complex societal messaging branded into my tiny brain at so young an age, I was actually making shit even harder for myself, perpetuating a cycle that ensured total, permanent misery. Ashamed Becca, Happy Becca, Dieting Becca, Giving Up Becca, Happy Becca, Ashamed Becca, Dieting Becca — it is like a carousel where they give you free funnel cake and then speed shit up until it’s so out of hand that the free funnel cake makes a second appearance. I call this the carousel of suck.

It didn’t occur to me that my unhappiness might not rest with how I looked, but in how I was living until — this July?

But it’s not like it was an overnight revelation — it was 17 years of restriction, self-castigation and shaaaame. I think the biggest myth about dieting is that when you achieve whatever pound-goal you have set in your head, your life will have changed for the better. To be smaller, to reduce yourself means you’ll be able to attract the sort of romantic partner you want, you’ll get the sort of job you deserve, you’ll just be more innately happy.

But the thing is, that’s hokum. The thing you get when you lose weight is a different number on a scale. That number isn’t good or bad. That number has no real power at all other than what we assign it. Most of us can assign it enough power that I’m surprised the damn scale doesn’t bellow, “TEN POINTS HUFFLEPUFF!” every time someone steps upon it.

Realizing this, fully realizing it, and then recognizing it to be true every day is harder than anything I have ever done and I am not always successful. But the flip side of that coin is that these days — at almost 30 — I’m happier than I have been in a long time, because the things I used to assume were only fixable by banishing my boobs, my hips (which seldom, if ever, lie) and my butt, I’ve started tackling in other ways.

I’ve sort of had to accept that I am never going to be one of those people who is all, “This Baby Ruth is toooo rich.” I’m always going to think about food I’m eating whenever I eat it, but it doesn’t have to be in the combative self-destructive I used to.

What I’m saying is, I’ll finish that Baby Ruth for you — happily.

Maybe She’s The Problem

There is something that has been bothering me a while now and I feel that my followers could clear my doubts about this topic I need clarifying with. Miley Cyruss has been engaged to be married to the same man for about a year and people call her a Ho, but Taylor Swift has a new boyfriend every week and she’s wholesome? There’s got to be something wrong in the way we use these terms.

After listening to 20 different songs about her 20 failed relationships with 20 different guys, doesn’t it make sense to conclude that maybe she’s the problem?