A TRIBUTE TO NICE GIRLS

I didn't write this, but my best friend found and sent it to me a few years ago and I like to read it occasionally because i love it. I hope you do too.


This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong.
This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times.

This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention.

This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word.

This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the rite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.


This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude L0VESzs and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced.

This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed.

This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt.

This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with.

This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone.

This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup.

This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.

This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear.

This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted.

This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.

This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.

So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.

So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)


to the person that wrote this: thank you, from every single nice girl out there. we appreciate it.

and to all of you nice girls: keep being nice. keep being loyal. and NEVER give up your integrity. there ARE nice guys out there -- sometimes it just takes them awhile to come find us. =)


peaceandlove<3

SOULMATES

I believe in love. I believe in soulmates and fairytales and happily ever after. I believe that God has someone out there for me who is so incredibly wonderful that I am going to have to pinch myself daily just to see if i'm dreaming or not. I believe that, as much as I am wanting him, some beautiful boy is longing for me. I don't know who he is, or where he is, or what he's doing...but I know he's out there. I am fully convinced that I am going to meet this boy and we are going to fall madly, deeply, passionately in love. It may be next week, or next year, or not until i'm 35. He may be in Ohio, California, Iowa or Italy. I have no idea. But i'm trusting God to write my love story and I have faith that it is going to be the most well-written romance novel ever.

Do I give God my input? Of course I do! I think I utter 'please let it be Joe Jonas' at least once a day. haha Seriously though, i'm a 20 year old girl, obviously I have ideas in my head of what I want my future husband to be like. God and I chat all the time. I think He's taking some things into consideration, but ultimately it comes down to what He knows is best for me.

I guess the point of me telling you this is because I know that people laugh at my fairytale ideas of love...but that doesn't make me any less of a believer. I have been praying for my future husband since I was fifteen years old...and I know that he is going to be worth the wait. So when someone tells you that they feel/believe a certain way, don't just laugh at them. There's probably a good explanation as to why they believe that way. I guess my explanation is faith (and a little bit of naive little girl). You might not believe in soulmates, and that breaks my heart, but I do. There's enough heartache in this world, why try to tear down someones dreams?

Here, let me lay it out for you: rhyming style. =)

THEY SAY I DREAM TOO BIG
THEY SAY I DREAM TOO MUCH
THEY SAY THAT WITH REALITY
I'M SLOWLY LOSING TOUCH
I'VE ALWAYS BEEN A DREAMER
WITH MY HEAD UP IN THE CLOUDS
AND THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT
SO I'M NEVER COMING DOWN


peaceandlove<3

COUNTING PANTS...

I will update this post throughout the drive to keep everyone up to date on how many pair of jeans are being donated. My goal? 50 pair. Here we go!

DAY ONE:1/21: 6 pair --seems like a pretty solid start to me!
DAY THREE:1/23: 7 pair -- Got NHS involved, people are talking, i'm hoping this is good
DAY SIX:1/26: 11 pair =)

JEAN DRIVE

Maybe they're your 'one day i'll fit into these again' or your 'I might wear them someday'. Maybe they were a gift and you think they're ugly or they've been sitting in the back of your closet for so long that you forgot about them. (Go ahead, take a minute to check. I'll be right here.) You could possibly be saving them for the 'right date' that hasn't happened in three years. It's okay if they're just not your favorite. My point is, almost every person I know has at least one pair. That's right, i'm talking about your jeans. You know the ones that you don't actually wear but you keep in your closet for years 'just in case'. Well, now's the time to give those jeans to someone who is actually going to appreciate them.

www.teensforjeans.com has paired up with www.dosomething.org and Aeropostale for the third annual Teens for Jeans drive, a campaign that collects gently worn jeans for homeless teens. All sizes are greatly appreciated! All you have to do is drop them off at a local Aeropostale store! It's that easy. And, if you find that is an inconvenience, i'll take that step out for you. I'll pick the jeans up! I'm going to ask local schools and churches, as well as my own family and friends, to start collecting gently worn jeans. I will then come collect the jeans from you all so that you don't even have to go to the store! How awesome is that? Pretty cool, I know. You wanna know something else that's cool about it? The first 100,000 pair of jeans donated will be sent to support homeless teens in Haiti!

Seriously, though, if you have any jeans that you don't wear and are willing to donate, please let me know. I will be collecting donations from now through February 10th, as the drive ends February 14th. This is an easy way to help those less fortunate than we are. Tell your girlfriends, boyfriends, weird friends, regular friends, family, peers, boys, girls, strangers...anybody you know. Set up a donation bin at your school/church/workplace. The more jeans we can collect, the more teenagers we can help. Spread the word, and get back to me on if I can pick up a donation on the 10th.

Sometimes God works in small (or large), wonderful, denim ways. =)


peaceandlove<3

steve ward's explanation of love

So, i'm a little bit addicted to the TV show Tough Love. I can't pinpoint what it is about it, but I just love watching it. And I love Steve! Like, I wish I had someone in my life who would just straight up say, 'hey Stef, he's just not interested' or 'this is why you're always single' or something like that. I guess I just love that he is so brutally honest, yet genuinely loves and wants the best for the girls on the show. And, like most girls my age, I love the drama. (Mostly because it's not mine. c:) Regardless, I was watching random clips from season one and stumbled across the episode when Taylor left. During the conversation, Steve explains to the girls what love is. I just really like his definition and wanted to share it. Do you agree?

"You know what love is? It's letting go. It's the desire to grow and change and better yourself. It's the discipline to be faithful to somebody. To stay committed to yourself and someone else. That's love. And it all starts from within." -Steve Ward, Tough Love


You need to love yourself before you can expect someone else to love you. <3



peaceandlove<3

Running Away

"We've learned to run from anything uncomfortable" is a line from Paramore's song Miracle. I don't really listen to Paramore (i'm more of a Jonas Brothers/country listener myself) but I totally have to agree with them. It's like our first instinct is to run away. And it's not just when we are uncomfortable. It's when something is hard or scary or emotional or frustrating or crazy or any sort of feeling that we just don't want to feel anymore.

If you are anything at all like me, God bless your little soul, you've probably thought about running away at least a time or two. The thing is, normal people think about running away when they're twelve. Not me, though. I never could have done it...too big of a baby. However, ever since I turned 18, I think about it all the time. Like, I honestly wish I could just pack as much stuff as I can in my car, fill up my tank, and drive to California. Will I ever do it? Possibly. It's not that I hate everything here. I have wonderful friends and family members who take care of me and are at my side whenever I need them. I appreciate that my parents still let me live at home without paying rent even though i'm twenty years old and should probably grow up. I don't mind living in a little town where everybody knows everybody. I think it's cool that not all of our roads have street signs and if you say you're from Canal Fulton people automatically say 'where's that?'. I like it here, but I need to get out. I don't think i'm better than it, but I want so much more than this small town life. Anyways, me wanting to get out of here is not what this blog is about. It's about running away.

There are two main types of running away. There's literally putting clothes in a backpack and running away from your house, and there's running away from God. In some situations, running away from home may be the safest decision you have. But if you come from a good home where you are being taken care of and noone is harming you physically or emotionally...just stay there. Fighting with your parents over whether or not your room is clean is NOT a good reason to just pack up and leave. And running away from God: stupid. I guess not so much stupid, but pointless. My reasoning? He's gonna catch you.

You're not fast enough. You can't run too far or too long. You can't go off-trail and get lost. No matter how fast or how long you run, or how twisted your path may be, you can NEVER outrun God. Go ahead and try. Because I can almost guarantee that if you look over, He's going to be running right next to you, waiting for you to run out of breath. And when you do, He's going to breathe for you. But maybe you're already running because you don't know what to do. And when you look over, you can't see God and you think you've outsmarted Him. The thing is, He knows where you're going even if you don't. So He'll be there: with a towel, a glass of water, and open arms. Instead of running away from God, just run to Him. Run as fast as you can into His loving arms and just let Him embrace you. That's all we're really looking for, anyways. Someone to love us and hold us and tell us that everything is going to be okay. Well, that's what God wants to do...so let Him.

Running away doesn't solve your problems; it just changes them.



peaceandlove<3