Mi Casa, Su Casa. Literally.

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For my generation, most relationships merge under 1 roof before 2 people merge last names.

There is a lot to be learned about a person when you live with them.  Just as there is a lot to be learned about yourself when you make the move to live with your significant other.  The beauty of a lasting relationship is founded on the bond that develops in this learning stage.  If a relationship is meant to be, a love for the other person’s crazy quirks blooms.  And should be watered daily.

Advice… Acknowledge an adjustment period.  This is the time you begin to realize you now live with a real human being (not the super human boyfriend bot who cleaned from top to bottom when he was expecting you).  Don’t give up in the adjustment period.  Your boyfriend > Nicholas Spark’s Cliche, any day.  Just ask Pinocchio, he begged to be a real boy!

For example: The pooping adjustment period.  We all do it, so stop blushing.

My adjustment period for this perfectly natural (but still awkward) bodily function came when my boyfriend and I moved into a 1 bathroom bungalow.

Our “schedules” have, oddly enough, always been in sync.  Which was GREAT in his 2 bathroom town house.  He would excuse himself to take care of business, giving me at least 10 minutes to sneak away to do the same.  He never had to know.  NOW…. His 10-20 minute business breaks have me in line knocking on the door for nexties.  Consider this, the adjustment period.

I have since learned to love his habit of over staying his bathroom welcome – Because at least the toilet seat is warm.  My love has bloomed.

He now knows I poop.  And that it truly does smell like roses.  His love has bloomed.

A much more relevant realization bestowed upon me, is the true comfort in unconditional love.

I have never been one for a lot of make up.  Yes, it is fun to dress up and go out.  Yes, I generally wear the basics on a regular basis.  Yes, I am perfectly fine being seen by my boyfriend without ANY make up on.

I also realize, despite the fact that I am perfectly comfortable for my boyfriend to see me without make up, there is an entirely new – let’s call it, sublevel – to my natural state.

It involves ridiculously unmanageable hair (often in need of washing), unshaven legs, over sized clothing, hair dye, teeth whiteners, and unibrows.  I must not forget facial masks of all sorts:  Mud masks, black head extracting masks, pore reducing masks.

Most of these masks make hot girl friends unrecognizable, giving Jim Carey a run for his money.

 

The Mask

But despite all these things no boyfriend has signed up for, to be loved all the same is the best feeling.

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Pants On Fire…. And I have proof!

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In my past relationship, I could have taught Mr. Holmes a thing or two about investigating.  No polygraph needed, I learned to see straight through a lie.  No case went cold, and no stone left unturned.

Having been dumb enough to stay with a compulsive liar / habitual cheater, I know there is no such thing as light at the end of the tunnel.  (If you think you see light, check again.  It is probably just the Heartbreak Freight Train barreling toward you, what is sure to be an inevitable head on collision.)

Even IF Mr. Wrong CLAIMS to clean up his act know this… A subconscious can forgive but will never forget.  Questioning every text message, each move on social media, phone calls, and hours spent unaccounted for is enough to drive any girl insane.  Snooping becomes a skill and no account is un-hackable.  It will consume you and soon you will be giving Angelina a run for her money in Girl Interrupted.

Public Advisory:: DO NOT let yourself become that person!!!

All bad relationships come to an end.  And that is the truth!  After a year of self-reflection and single lady shenanigans I was able to reevaluate my worth and move forward with a fresh outlook.  Having found a wonderful man who cares about me to the point of selflessness.  I have zero temptation to check his phone, email, or social networks.  If something bothers me, I ask.  In return, I am given an honest answer.  Luckily I know not to ruin a good thing with scars from the past.  I am able to give 100% of my trust, and it is wonderful.

Its cool Sherlock, take back the magnifying glass and your bloody hounds.  I am no longer in need 😉

But I’m taking birth control for you!

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I have been seeing a guy for about 3 months now.  He is perfect.  Handsome, funny, thoughtful, kind, the list goes on.  Back off ladies.  But I have a dilemma.  How do grown ups know when they are official?  In school it was easy.  Pass a note to your crush: “Will you be my girlfriend, check Yes or No”.

Is that acceptable for people in their mid-20s?!  Life would be simpler.  We go on dates, now have mutual friends.  He bought me hair ties to keep at his place.  He has a toothbrush at mine.  We are not hooking up with other people (as far as i know!?)

We even had the Birth Control conversation.

Side Note:: Birth Control makes me crazy. After being on the pill for 3 years, I stopped taking it all together about a year ago.  Gave it a quick second try 6 months into my protest.  I only lasted 2 more days before i pitched the rest of my prescription.  Here is why. Went out to eat, sushi with the girls.  Our server took our order and about 15 minutes later we saw our sushi, in all of it’s glory, sitting in the window to be ran.  I used to be a server myself so i am usually extremely patient.  Not this time.  I felt my blood rising as our server walked right by our order not once, but twice.  When the food finally came i was short and rude.  It was a defense to keep myself from having a complete sushi meltdown in public.  When the server left our table, my friends were looking at me as if i was an alien impostor dwelling in the human shell formally known as their best friend.  I don’t blame them!  I was nuts.

Well, for Mr. Right I am back on the BC wagon.  Not sure if im happy about it, but I do feel like this is one step in the mature relationship direction i am obligated to take.

All Im saying, if we dont work out – Then this birth control hormonal bullshit is for the birds and out the window.  How ironic would it be if he broke up with me for being a moody bitch (common side effect of popping that little pill daily)?!  “But Im taking birth control for you!”, i would scream in vain.