Sunday, February 6, 2011

Timeline of a Relationship~

In the beginning, we try hard. We exfoliate, we curl, we lipstick and whiten and pluck. We clean our cars and our houses and our lawns. We do our nails – hands and toes. We curl up on the couch in the most flattering position – the one that hides our extra love handles and pushes out our cleavage. We stock up our purses with lip gloss and breath mints and other emergency supplies. We try to put our best foot forward, say the right things, dress to impress.

Then we get comfortable.

We start shaving every other day instead of every day – you can barely feel it anyway.

We resume using ponytail holders and ditch the more intensive make up. Goodbye eyeliner.

We have the break through night in where we trot out the pajama pant look, ruining the fantasy that we really sleep all the time in sexy nighties and thigh highs.

We talk about our periods.

We admit we don’t like their crazy friend.

We begin to roll our eyes when they find yet another sporting event on tv.

We stop wearing the heeled boots that make our ass look good and yank back out our comfy tennis shoes.

We break out all our favorite foods that make our breath stink – for me, sour cream and onion stax. Yummy. But smelly.

Men should take all this slacking off as a compliment actually. I don’t feel the need to impress you anymore, I feel comfortable enough in our relationship to know you aren’t in it for the sexy clothes or perfectly curled hair. I feel safe enough with you to be myself, the way I am at home on the days I am not with you. There is no longer days where I have to ‘pretty up’ because I am going to see you – which means that you see me an hour earlier than before. Not that I won’t pretty up from time to time, but I no longer feel the need to do it all the time. I am secure enough in us to believe you are going to stick around when you see my hair without styling products. So here is the message men should take from this : the worse I look when I come see you, the more I love you. Enjoy the extra hour of me in my sweatpants.

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