On The Market

When analyzing dating culture and trends earlier this week, I realized something.

*Okay, so I guess I could also phrase that as when I was scrolling through Hinge in bed earlier, but I sound a lot more academic with my previous statement, so I’ll leave it as is.

Dating is a whole hell of a lot like shopping. 

Just think about it.

I either go all in and do a big haul or wait months until I’m in an uncomfortable position because nothing fits and everything I have has been exhausted beyond it’s limits (or chewed by my dog).

Let’s take a minute, what’s your personal shopping style? Do you just go out and see if something catches your eye? Are you willing to settle for any knit sweater, or willing to wait for that one you’ve always wanted? Even if it takes some more time, effort or money.

Even when you find that sweater you wanted, does it fit and compliment you the way you thought it would? But the thought of returning it, making the shipping label after all the effort you put into finding it seems like a bit of a hassle..

.. anything sounding familiar?

Let’s just think about dating with intention, or for the sake of the blog, ‘shopping with intention’. If you need a good quality pair of jeans, you’re not gonna go to Dick’s Sporting Goods (unbeknownst to be they may actually sell jeans, if I’m wrong let’s pretend I’m not).

If you’re looking for someone who’s motivated and at a good place in their life, are those the places you find yourself looking for a partner. Are you putting yourself in the position to meet someone of the caliber you desire?

Let’s say it’s really important for you to have a partner that’s of the same faith as you, well, then you probably shouldn’t be looking for them in the club.

When we shop in the clearance section we can’t expect to find something of great quality, that’s not to say it’s not there. But we can’t be expecting it. Even if we do find a brand new pair of Levi’s on clearance for $15, they might not be your size.

So that cute investment broker you met at the pool table of the dive bar last night? He could be emotionally unavailable.. Or live in Ireland.

And yes, both have happened to me.

I’m gonna get real and potentially a little triggering for people so either buckle or make your way towards your nearest exit sign.

When I was younger I had an eating disorder. No feeling bad for me, I have worked past it and honestly the experience has made me stronger and allowed me to develop a whole new way to value ALL of myself as a human. But here’s what I say about this. One thing I noticed as a catalyst of my ED was constantly wanting to achieve a certain image. Whether it was a smaller number on the size tag of my jeans or a certain style that was flattering to bodies different than mine. I remember squeezing into size 2 jeans for the majority of my eighth grade year. I would wear oversized sweaters so you couldn’t tell they couldn’t fit, but it was okay because they were Size 2 and zipped up all the way. I remember the red marks and indents that littered my waist and surrounding area as I would consciously hide them in the locker room when changing for basketball practice.

I was chasing an image. How I wanted people to view me. This can translate to romantic relationships, what is going to be the quality/characteristic/personality of a person that will ultimately make you happy and complete what it is you’re looking for in a partner?

Do you want the person with 'that' job because you feel like that's the support you need in life, or because society tells you that? Maybe it's not society, maybe it's your mom (sorry mom).

I frequent a lot of pool tables at a dirty little local dive bar that I hold very near and dear to my heart. I'd the average age of people at that table on a given week night (when i'm most apt to go) is 42, and that's with my age included in the calculation. So that being said not exactly the most promising place for romantic prospects, unless of course I decide I want a sugar daddy.

... and after my bank account after paying last month's rent I think I'm pretty close.

But I'm not expecting to find the future father of my children to be stuck to the grimy floor of Pattie's 1st Ave. It's like when we go to the flea market, you never quite know what you're going to find.

Just be open to the experience, go in with no expectations and enjoy the ride.

Xoxo Mild Girl

True to Myself

In an age of social media we are surrounded by surrealism of filters, photoshop and fake smiles (the kind that resemble advertisements for veneers and people who are dead in the eyes). 

Some choose to signify their protest of this instant gratification lifestyle by abandoning all forms of social media.

To me, this is like choosing not to vote because you can’t stand the current state of our country. While that is completely your right, I find it a little silly (Sorry, not sorry Jared). By participating that is what invites us to the table to break our theoretical daily bread.

Although it was just a witty play on my last name I came up with in the seventh grade, my username @therealspeel has come to mean so much more to me than that. While I definitely do not shy away from the active selfie posting on my instagram story, I truly believe that I try to live my life (both in reality and in the social media spectrum) in a way that exhibits authenticity. 

I mean just look where we are. How many people are going to link hours worth of writing to their sex life, past (some failed) relationships as well as some of their most intimate (albeit, embarrassing at times) moments for you to skim at your leisure?

I’m currently sitting here in a coffee shop wearing a work appropriate outfit and last night's makeup. At the glance someone may see me here on my laptop thinking I’m the kind’ve person that has it together and whose life is ‘figured out’. I can’t even tell you the last time I went grocery shopping, the closest thing in my fridge to protein is a singular egg and the acorn squash I got at Fry’s because it’s cute as hell and I think cost a dollar.

While I know I’m only twenty-four and that’s an early, novice level in the grand scheme of this big mess we call life I still feel valid in giving input on what I’ve learned thus far, so take it or leave it. After these last twenty years (not sure I remember anything before the age of four), I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m officially too old to waste time not being myself. 

Let’s talk about this in the context of dating: Recently I was given advice on playing ‘hard to get’ to a guy. Here’s the thing though: I am fucking hard to get. That doesn’t mean I won’t text you back when I see it or that I’ll hide my feelings. Quite the opposite, I will wear my heart on my sleeve (despite the devil on my shoulder that tells me that people will leave when they get to know the real me). I will be so transparent en lieu of wanting to act like this tough, sarcastic asshole that can’t be hurt. In reality, I get my feelings hurt so very easily. 

It’s the cancer woman in me, the astrological sign not the other one… that’s gone now

But I refuse to let boys or anyone dim my light.

I will keep showing up as my true, authentic self. 

Each person that decides that’s too much or not right for them, I welcome it. It doesn’t mean they’re wrong, they’re just not for me. Which is so viscerally OKAY. We live in a world where not everyone is meant to mesh in an intimate way. 

I used to wonder how the majority of relationships don’t just work out. I mean once you get past like a month of seeing eachother you really know whether or not you want to continue seeing this person. Outside of different religious views, values and overall directionality of your life - what else really is there to cause people to part ways two, three years into a relationship?

From my last romantic, endeavor I think I realized what it is…

… and that is filling your cup.

And I’m not talking about the sperm one at the bank.

I had this guy that I had gone out with a few times and for the first time in a while I felt I could see some relationship potential. Here’s the thing though: while yes he was attractive and could actually hold a conversation, he did not fill my cup.

It was great when we were together and he did the things like making the dinner reservations, paying and holding doors. But that’s about where it ended. In the days between seeing one another I’d experience anxiety because I was not getting the emotional reassurance I needed. Now this can look different for everyone. I’m not the kind’ve girl that needs a “Good morning beautiful 🥰🥰” text every goddamn day. Honestly, I think I’m better off without it. But at a point where you are consistently seeing someone there (in my opinion) should be some level of communication.

Now here’s where one of my best friend’s Caleb advised me to play the whole hard to get thing and avoid texting the guy. Do you think I listened? Please, I don’t think I’ve listened to a single thing a man has said to me in the last 15 years.

But I’ve since realized something: I shouldn’t have texted the guy. Not because I need to play some mental game. But because of the kind’ve man I am looking for in my life I want someone who will pursue me. Now, I do still believe that if a guy is truly interested in you they will never be turned off by you sending them a message (unless it’s unreciprocated and getting out of hand). But a good indicator of the type of man he is how often / when he texts you when it is unprompted and the two of you are not together.

I both hate and love people and have always been one to branch out and meet new people, but honestly I’m at a point where my cup is so filled that it is constantly filled and overflowing at times. With this cup I am filled to the brim with the love and acceptance of so many friends and family (as well as the forty-year olds at my local dive bar that are enamored with me). I honestly do not have the capacity to be wasting my goddamn time trying to get some guy who’s unsure about me to contribute to what I have to offer.

Now that’s no slight to any man, it’s just made me look and love and relationships in a whole new light and reminded me (in a good way) why it is that I’m single. I need someone who sees how full my cup is and helps to either relieve some of that or hold me steady so I don’t end up spilling all of my contents.

When I find that kind’ve man (or he finds me) that will be the time I take my next relational leap of faith. 

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.

Have you ever had a time in life where many people gave you the same advice and you never took it? Only to randomly do that advice at some far beyond point in time only to realize they were right exuberantly right all along?

Whether it was going out of your comfort zone or a Netflix show they thought you’d like, it all applies.

For years my friends have consulted me on why I give so much to men that give little to none back. I wonder the same fucking thing, and I’ve realized what it is: I fall for the potential. I see what kind’ve partner I think someone can be and I hone in on that rather than the reality of the kind’ve partner they are showing me at that point in time.

Sometimes you need to get burned by the stove one too many times to truly learn the lesson to put on your theoretical oven mit.

This is a lesson that I’ve been stubbornly trying to learn for years now, and for the first time I think it has actually sunk in (but just wait til I meet another guy I actually like to put this theory to the test.. I have a date this week so stay tuned).

As always I appreciate the hell out of each and every one of you fuckers.

Sending love your way

Xoxo Mild Girl

I Did My Best

Do you ever wonder if you’re truly the best version of yourself?

Don’t worry I’m not going to give you some bullshit on how with the right mentality you can be 110% in every single thing you do in your life. Maybe that’s the right way to view it and I’m just a weak-ass beta, but I just so happen to believe otherwise.

Over the last year or so in my journey of self-betterment I’ve become privy to the concept of ‘inner child work’.

And on my drive home from work today in between missing my exit and humming along to the pop music that has somehow infiltrated it’s way into the namesake genre that is country music; my mind decided to delve deeper into what inner child work truly looks like for me.

When I have these negative feelings about myself, whether it’s doubt, anxiety or any of the other characters from that Inside Out movie, where do they stem from?

I used to look at it in a different way that maybe I felt my emotions were never really acknowledged and I was always told, “Speelman’s never cry”. 

Not saying this didn’t have it’s own impact, but as I sat there in the discomfort leaning into some of those memories, I realized some more

I remember growing up bringing my report card home for the first time and I was so proud to show my parents all my A’s and the single B. Pretty sure the B was in homeroom because there was a homework assignment I had colored incorrectly. Well tough shit Mrs. Walter I wanted my cow to be fucking blue, not some panda looking ass.

If I were to get a report card in my everyday life now I’d have an A++ in shit talking and a C in time management.

When I got off the bus that day and ran home to show my parents (I was a chubby fifth grader, so I’m being very liberal with the usage of the term run), I was met with this response from my father:

“Can you honestly say you tried your best?”

Ever since then I realize that one statement (and the many parallels of it he gave through the years) followed me and shaped a large part of how I live my everyday life.

At the time I felt like I had done the best of my ability.

But I started to psychoanalyze when my parents provided some pushback to my answer.

Because what does it really mean to do your best? To do ever single thing in your power and exert all of your entire energy reserve in effort to accomplish a certain task. I grew up playing sports and aside from one game in my sophomore year of high school I don't think that I will ever truly be convinced that I did "my best".

I could've ran harder.

Played smarter.

Shot better.

And here's why I thought that way:

“So you’re telling me there’s nothing you could’ve done to get that A?”

Looking back at this now as an adult (yet another term I use rather liberally considering my Amazon account is still linked to my moms card) I revert back to my original answer that yes, I did do my best. Because sometimes in life you need to give 85% of yourself to different areas, so that you can live your best life holistically because our lives are all cumulative of the things we partake in. We may wear different hats throughout the course of the week, but at the end of the day they all go in the same closet.

Take me for example:

Party Bike Captain

Wannabe Writer

Dog mom

Manager

Runner

Hiker

If I dedicated every single day to each of those things I'm pretty sure I'd be dead by now. I can barely make it through my hikes without falling on my ass as is.

Right now I work with a man who gives a 110% at work every single day. Shows up an hour early, skips lunch and always stays late. He knows if a single SKU number is out of place before any of the guys that make the SKUs even have time to test and enter them into the system.

And I think he may be one of the saddest people I’ve ever met.

Now this is all completely from my perspective, but this man lives and breathes for his place of work. 

Not to say that you shouldn’t be that way if that’s the life you want to live and that’s what makes you happy. BUT what I can say from my own experience is that I used to live my life in a similar way because I thought that was the way to become happy.

If you knew me at the ripe age of eighteen you got to experience the whirlwind that I was a college freshman. I was the definition of storming out of the gates (ie. my parents house). In a short two semesters I received multiple awards and recognitions as well as being interviewed and accepted into a variety of organizations on campus. I would get A’s in every class, still ask for extra credit and find a way to still make it to our local college bar and stay there til two in the morning.

At the time I felt unstoppable.

...Until I wasn’t.

As the year went on I hit a wall. I was so burned out I never even had time to stop and take a breath. I found myself surrounded yes by accomplishments and titles, but none of the things I truly loves, just the things I thought I was supposed to. 

Growing up my parents would have to take my book away from me at night, they weren’t worried about me scrolling through my Kik messages or Ask.fm (hope that dated me a little), they knew I’d be up all night trying to find out what was going to happen to FireStar and the rest of the warrior clan. 

***Yes, I was that girl that read the books about the cat clans that ruled the local condominium development.. And still to this day it’s some of the best damn literature I ever indulged myself in***

There was a point for a long time where I couldn't even remember the last time I had picked up a book, outside of one for my Chinese class (yes, white girl is semi-cultured believe it or not).

Presently it’s something I’m trying to fall back in love with, but also I am not trying to force it. These days I find myself more enamored with being outside with my dogs, although a bit more challenging in the hundred-plus degree weather we are currently experiencing in the Greater Phoenix Area, but I make due.

I think a good measure of your happiness is not the money you make or the reviews of your coworkers, but rather a review from your younger self of sorts.

What would little Lauren think of me now?

And I can honestly say she’d think I was a boss-ass bitch and maybe even be a little scared of me, which I find endearing.

While I may not be actually as tough as I’d like people to think all the time, I am a whole hell of a lot tougher than the girl who would let people (especially men) walk all over her.

So mom and dad, sorry for the delayed answer, but yes, I did do my best and will continue to try and maintain that answer as I continue to live my life. While I know I go about it all differently than the two of you would for yourselves and even juxtaposed to how you’d prefer me to live my own (yes there will be more hand tattoos) I know this is the right path that I am on.

Right now the best version of myself has two too many dogs, a low bank account, three jobs and a lot of cuts and scrapes from hiking… and I couldn’t be happier.

Now much like cars the best version of yourself may look different every year, maybe even in a shorter time span. You may have thought for the longest time that once you moved away you would be happy to get out of your hometown, only to realize a big part of your identity is in those friends and family you had established back home. Regardless of what ‘your best’ is, it is YOURS. That’s for you to decide, experiment and find out, and just like any experiment you will probably fail a couple times. 

Hell, you think Adam just magically found Eve’s clit on the first try?

You guys know my blog, I can’t write and not mention something sexual at least once, come on.

My biggest thing I’d like you guys to take away, since you’re apparently still here for some reason, is that we as people have this innate urge and desire to both please and impress. Whether it’s our parents, partners, society or even ourselves. It’s almost like we have to prove our worth in away to be allowed to exist. I want you to know that’s not the case. Now I’d prefer you to not be sitting in your parents basement with orange Dorito fingers switching from playing with your Xbox to playing with yourself, but again at the end of the day it’s your life to choose how you live it, so as long as it’s not impeding on others in a negative way, go for it.

Although your parents may have thoughts about that.

As always thanks for letting me take your time, hope you found it worth it.

Xoxo Mild Girl

***I’d also like to note that I had an amazingly, happy childhood and am so loved. This is in no way me shitting on them or how I was raised. I am a firm believer that we all can do inner child-work in our own ways because like us, our parents are human. Contrary to what the Brady Bunch tried to model for us, there is no cookie cutter family that handles things the exact right way. I’m not saying we all necessarily have childhood trauma, but to say that there’s not probably some emotions we all need to work through or at least acknowledge from that time in our lives is a bit close-minded in my personal opinion.