There’s this song called, “Loveless” by Lorde that talks about how we’re the generation who date without feelings. She describes us as a group who dates through messing with eachother’s heads. The girl gets it, and she gets me. Side-note, as I looked up the lyrics to make sure I mentioned the correct song, I came across this article that said that Lorde’s album Melodrama is an anthem album for teenage girls, and I took some heavy offense to that. How dare you, Mr. Music Critic, make the assumption that only teenage girls have intense feelings and struggle with dating— like what? Sorry your life is so shallow, dude. Anyway, learning/accepting that this is the reality of our present dating climate has not been easy for me.
I spent the majority of the weekend in my bed hating myself. I hated knowing that I had given others the power to make me feel that way. It really blows when you are yourself, or let your guard down, and the person on the receiving end cannot compute your self-expression. I hated that despite knowing this, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that I’d be better off accepting my perpetual alone-ness— or believing that I’m unloveable. What’s more, realizing the control that’s had by men in dating makes me angrier than I can calmly write now. I’d imagine some of you might be thinking to yourselves, jeez Morgan, if you hate men so much, why do you date them? This is a great question. I blame my perpetual desire for partnership, and hormones. And, apparently, these reasons mean more to me than my own self-esteem or preserving my self-worth. So, again, what is the only solution? To not feel. I am a part of the loveless generation.
This blog has been around since the beginning of dating after the year of Morgan. Those of you who have been reading since then will remember how often I wrote of being criticized for my intensity. I don’t think you will be surprised to hear that I’m still receiving the same feedback. Not as frequently, mind you, because I am well on my way to stripping all feelings from dating. How sad is that? It is not cool to talk about feelings when you’re seeing someone. We’re either supposed to act like we are completely unattached from the significant other, or genuinely feel nothing about the dating process. If you think that I’m wrong, you’re either not a millennial, or you are one of the select few who met your significant other organically— without the help of your cellphone.
As I’ve mentioned, I have had two serious boyfriends in my time. I met one in real life, and I met the other on an app. When I started dating the first one, I was still a kid, and had no idea how to articulate all the craziness that were my feelings. They may as well have not existed. Truly, when I started going to therapy in college and learned how to share my feelings, Boyfriend 1 quickly freaked, and the relationship ended soon after.
Boyfriend 2 understood intense feelings— this is likely why we felt so connected. The problem(s) with him was the alcoholism, narcissism, delusions, and the fact that he did NOT know how to articulate his intensity. So, really, for as cool as it was to (usually) know what the other person was feeling, when we misinterpreted something, the intensity came out maliciously. It was bad, bad news.
Can you begin to empathize with how overwhelming all of this is in my head? Can you see that to cope with all of it, I have to share these thoughts with others? If I keep them to myself, I cannot function. I just can’t. I get stuck in my thoughts. I’m only able to write this now because, sensing my turmoil, my friend Shannon came over last night to help me up out of the hopelessness. It’s the way I am. I don’t foresee a Morgan who lives without caring about rejection. Do I just swallow the fact that the men are in control? Do I ignore my desire to share my life with another person? Or do I only date people who don’t make me feel things? I’ve got to say, none of those options sit well with me.
But, what’s a girl to do?