expectations: the bane of a woman's thoughts

Hey, yes, it's me. The person who disappeared for months, lol. I had fun writing this. This is for all the girls out there, whom I'm sure can relate to some degree. I do not mean to offend anyone.
//

Dear Miss Myrna,

Society sucks. It really does.

Society tells me that I have to be this super thin Victoria's Secret model with huge breasts that can fill any guy's daydream. Going to church and cleansing your soul isn't enough. Not anymore, it isn't, so they say. You have to obtain perfection.

Society also tells us that women have to be prudes and that guys are the only ones who want to get in girl's pants. As the better and more evolved race, women, well, we have to bat our eyelashes and be innocent. Knowing what society expects makes me feel even worse for being like this.

I'm a good girl, Myrna. I am. I go to church every Sunday and I pray. Sometimes I wonder if being Catholic would make it all better, because then I'd have to go to Confession and be all the more ashamed for these feelings and thoughts. I've tried everything: dumping ice on myself, having my laptop locked down by one of those computer companies so that all I can do is go to "spiritual sites." I've tried to eat healthy, hoping that it would cleanse both my body and my mind. But these feelings never go away.

Sometimes I get tired of being the good girl, Myrna.

Sometimes I want to flip my parents off. Sometimes I want to tell all the fake friends on Facebook to shut the fuck up and live their own lives. Sometimes I touch myself and I feel terrible afterwards, but in the middle of it all I'm aware of is the fantasies in my own head. I dream about bad boys tugging me down onto their bed and kissing me until my lips are bruised, tearing off my clothes and telling me between kisses
how
fucking
gorgeous I am even though I'm not perfectly thin. Sometimes I long to hear these lies whispered in my ear about how sexy I am, about how I drive someone crazy. I dream about teeth grazing the side of my neck, eyes dilating, groans, losing yourself.

I dream about bad boys with their tattoos, their fingers touching my skin, holding a beer bottle to my lips. I think about drinking, about smoking, about getting that rush of dopamine so I can just be happy for a second. Because sometimes it gets tiring and I
just
want to
rebel. Is that so bad?

I dream about sex, Myrna, and I'm ashamed. I know I want to wait until marriage, but sometimes it's so hard to wait when I see couples around me and know that they're probably getting it on whenever they feel like it. Sometimes I have days where I'm so turned on I nearly can't stand it. I want to scream, pull my hair out, find a random guy and kiss him until I'm wheezing. I imagine him lying me down and shoving inside of me and I know it's wrong but it would give me an excuse to be this raging demon inside of me, just take a moment and feel him around me,
in me,
breathing in my ear.
In-out, together, apart, close my eyes and not feel scared for once that I'm not good enough. Imagine a different face, know that he'd never want you.
Strangers want you.
Sometimes I get tired of thinking. Sometimes
I
just want
to feel.

And maybe it's not so much about sex as is it being remembered. Some little part of me shoves its way through the cracks of my mind and taunts me.

"Have others remember you as the one who took chances," it hisses.

Some tiny, miniscule, barely there part of me wants to be the girl others are gossiping about, the one who took her future into her own hands and stopped living according to others' expectations. I want to be danger, lust, love, beauty, all of it rolled into one. I want to have people watching me as I walk, want them to long to
be
me.

But that person is the demon in the cracks of my being, because I'm a good girl. I'm not like that. I just don't know how to rid myself of the longing to be something more.

Do you have any advice, Myrna?

Yours,
Caroline

Category:

Education

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