Unequivocably Me Searching For Answers or the =ivalent
masochist eh em… Or one who practices masochism, as defined by dictionary.com, [mas•uh•kiz•uhm] means to take pleasure in suffering. Thus, a masochist is an individual who takes pleasure in suffering.
Hello, my name is Tiffany. I’m 25, and I’ve been a masochist for as long as I can remember. The biggest showcase of my self sabotage is in the long chain of manwhores I have dated.
Manwhore as defined by urbandictionary.com is a master of manipulating women. The reputation of Manwhore makes gaining new potential victims somewhat difficult, so most manwhores are forced to change territories and switch stomping grounds frequently.
For as Long as I can recall, like many of my fellow masochists, the bad boy image has proven appealing. Common sense and self respect almost never prevails, and I find myself continuing in the relationship long after the the proverbial writing is on the wall.
I can’t entirely blame myself, though. Isn’t it statistically true that most women prefer a dominant, overly confident male versus a nurturing, submissive one? Look at my generation’s heartthrobs: Zach Morris- undeniable ladies’ man who hooks up with every girl in school and even tries to bone the school nurse. Brad Pitt: Am I on glue or did he not bag his marriage to Jen for someone hotter? I could list an infinite number of examples, but you get the point. There is something undeniably appealing about these alpha males and we are 100% programmed into buying into it.
He’s Just Not That Into You
pointed out, we have a lot of ridiculous misconceptions about how men operate and we relentlessly pursue those who don’t want us, because the challenge “guarantees” the optimum reward.
Whatever the cause of my neurotic behavior, I have come to accept absolute responsibility for causing my own misery. My dating resume reads like a ‘what NOT to do’ of relationships.
My first boyfriend was an egotistical half man, half mutant with absolutely zero breeding. I’m being too harsh. Oh wait. No, I’m not. He did teach me quite a few things about myself: One- I was not really in love with him, and Two- I can go from being in love to being physically sickened by an individual in .3 seconds.
I did date a gentleman in between the two demons I call my exes, but I was too wrapped up to appreciate him. Again, my self sabotaging personality reared its ugly head. I am satisfied to know that he has found love in a great woman, and he genuinely has all of my well wishes. 🙂
The ogre I last dated… Well, there’s too much about him to contain in this blog, so I’ll leave that trash to my history.
One thing was consistent throughout my relationships and that is, I felt pressured to change myself to please another. These weren’t major life changes, just smaller more shallow requests… Be it my weight, not carrying myself with a more ghetto mentality, or just not being the exact opposite of myself. It bothered me so that I stifled my own personality and spent 99 if not 100% awkward and anxious when around them. I actually tried to remember making jokes with my exes, and could not recall a single instance. Anyone who knows me knows I literally cannot go ten minutes without joking about something. Suppressing a part of me that was so strong was wholly unnatural, that despite the agony of my breakups, I felt more relief than anything.
In introspection. I have ultimately learned a lot about myself through these experiences and I know what I want.
So how did this blog come about, you ask?
During a conversation with my friend, I surmised that I am indeed a masochist and probably will continually choose the same person. This may not be consciously occurring, but rather, subconsciously. I suggested that through the process of blind dating, you have no expectations and face no disappointment. Additionally, one’s good friends have an outside perspective on what happened, giving them better insight on our own relationships than we have from experiencing them. Isn’t it ironic how we set our standards exceptionally high for our friends’ significant others, yet drop the bar to the lowest depths for ourselves?
In doing this self analysis, I came up with the Fifty Blind Dates concept: Two friends, two states, 25 dates apiece. The friend selects the dates choosing personalities versus physicality to determine the dates.
My hope is that with Sally and I being unable to choose our own dates, there will be less of a chance of us dating the same man over and over.
I look forward to this experience, and I’m excited to share this with all of you. I hope that in reading our daily experiences, you will be inspired. You will see that there are good men out there, you’re just not looking for the right ones.
Even if my hypothesis is utterly flawed, the thought of stepping out of my comfort zone and taking this risk is exhilarating.
Tell all your friends to join us weekly! Thanks for reading!