F*ck you! Friends with benefits.
A little chickie Valentines lecture…
So I was reading a blog post on ‘Friends with Benefits ‘ (aka FWB) the other day, about how it can basically turn into ‘love heroin’. There I was with my glass of wine, nodding away saying Oh I am SO hearing you sister!
I would guess that most of us either know personally what it feels like to find yourself in a love heroin version of FWB, where you are giving your heart (and other bits) and a whole lot of energy to someone who is more into the pick you up and put you down when ever they feel like it version.
Or maybe you have been forced to watch someone that you love ride such an uneven FWB rollercoaster.
Telling ourselves (and usually our friends ad nauseam) that it’s fine, ok, totally cool… which it absolutely is for those rare and fleeting benefits parts of the deal.
Trouble comes with the not so cool in-between bits… the prolonged radio silence, until they are at a loose end again, and suddenly it’s heroin time.
Now if you’re lucky,
one day someone will slap you over the head with a copy of ‘He’s Just Not That Into You.’
Maybe you notice that the other ‘benefitter’ has never NOT gotten anything that they wanted, so if they wanted a real life proper relationship with you, there would be nothing that they would let stop them.
Or that you’ve inadvertently signed up to be in someone’s harem… or to sit indefinitely on their interchange bench.
And THEN you realise that this comes down to you and not Mr Man Heroin.
That you kind of have this thing called a choice.
That you are showing him that it’s totally ok to treat you this way because of this thing called… what you allow will continue.
And when you dig a little deeper, you realise that you’re not pissed with him, you’re actually really pissed with yourself for choosing this over something real.
And you say… stuff this for a joke!
And your friends go WOOHOOO!!!!! Onwards and upwards!!!
And then you all live happily ever after… ta da!!!
Now far be it from me to be handing out the love life advice,
The burning question that I have for you today my lovely chickie friends… is about a different kind of FWB.
Today I am asking you to consider whether you are guilty of giving yourself the FWB / love heroin treatment too?
And I am asking why the fuck would you do that to YOURSELF?
Let’s have that again in a different dress shall we?
Where are you giving yourself half arsed instead of the real deal?
Whatcha going to do about it?
Tell me, does any of this sound familiar…
Juice fast detox-arama, exactly 1 week before you need to fit into that dress for a wedding that you’ve known about for 12 months.
What about being all fake tan and blow dries when you’ve got a special event on… but a wasteland in between.
Current pretty knickers … to Bridget Jones undies ratio???
Would a whipper snipper be required for any waxing duties right now?
Taking one’s good physical health for granted… expecting to juggle work, obligations, fun and adventure on a tank full of pizza and pinot?
*taking yourself for granted, radio silence in between action anyone? Anyone?
Expecting the world to notice what an exceptional goddess that you are (you are BTW) whilst uttering the following sentences (out loud OR in your head) How stupid of me, what a dickhead, I can’t believe it did that, god I’m useless… even starting sentences with the word SORRY, or I’m JUST asking…
Placing oneself and ones needs last on the priority list, and first to get shoved out of the way to please or accommodate someone else. Then uttering the words, I’ll be ok, it doesn’t matter, I didn’t really want it anyway, I can wait.
*treating oneself like nothing special perhaps?
Hanging out in the comfort zone, the restaurant where the same bland meal is dished up every single night, because you never ask for, or expect anything different.
* accepting and being grateful for WAY less than you deserve, or would expect for anyone else that you loved and adored? Aherm…
How am I doing?
Do any of things sound vaguely familiar?
Hang on a minute, do I detect a whiff of FWB in the air???
Oh fucking dear….
Moral of the story my fine chickie friends… my little Valentines not-so-subliminal message to you all …
Don’t give yourself the FWB treatment.
You know what it feels like when someone else gives it to you.
Why the fuck would you knowingly give it to yourself?
It’s time to give yourself the same pep talk that you would give your best friend when she’s accepting half arsed instead of the real deal.
How’s about we all go out there and give ourselves the love and respect that we deserve shall we?
Valentine’s lecture over.
Drops Chickie Mic.
Repeat after me... I can and I will...
a constant reminder that you deserve better. xxx