I am a self-proclaimed romantic. Romance movies and Rom-Coms are my jam, I get extremely emotionally invested in tv characters' relationships, and (I can't believe I'm admitting this but...) I enjoy reading Nicholas Sparks, Nora Roberts and even some YA books all for the love stories. I just love reading/watching/hearing about love!
The problem: It's all fake. All the movies, all the books.. love doesn't happen like that! The guy you can't stand doesn't always turn out to be your one true love and he most definitely does not always look like Heath Ledger (R.I.P. you wonderful, wonderful man). Our view of romance and love is skewed and while I think, for the most part, we're all aware of this, we still hold on hope that someday when we least expect it (but on a day when we've at least managed to put pants on) our soul mate is going to waltz into our lives.
That's fine if that's what you want to believe. What's not fine is forgetting about the rest of your life and just going through the motions until you meet your perfect match. I don't think we do this consciously. But what I've noticed, at least with myself, is that a. I spend way too much brain power on imagining what my life will be like when I'm happily married and settled in life and b. I've started to associate happiness only with love.
I blame the first part on social media. Thanks to bloglovin (follow me!!!), I've found a ton of amazing women who happen to have the most adorable little families (Weslie, Whitney, and Naomi are crazy cool moms y'all). Through their blogs and and other social outlets, I see and hear about their lives and how much fun they have with their families. It makes me want to be a cool, hip mom who dresses my kids in cute clothes and explores cool cities with my little fam. But what I forget is that I'm not seeing their everyday lives, I'm only seeing a glimpse. I don't see any fights they may or may not have with their kids or husbands, I don't see all the messes they have to clean up, I don't see how hard they're having to work. I only see the fun.
The second part I blame on my obsession with romantic movies. The ending of a movie will make or break my opinion of the entire film. Until recently, my criteria for a good ending to a romance movie was this: the girl/guy has to end the movie with their soul mate. Text book Disney Princess crap, I know. (I'd decided The Prince and Me was an "okay" movie because their future together wasn't as concrete as I'd have liked it to be...I'm a monster.) But then I watched Little Black Book with Brittany Murphy (not technically a true-blue romance but hey, Netflix includes it in the genre). I thought the ending was perfect and there was not a love interest in sight! I was legitimately smiling at the end of the movie and it was all because Brittany's character was happy. So simple but so true.
That was a lot, I'm sorry (I'm a piece of work). But hopefully with these latest revelations I can start to reign in some of my romantic qualities and remember that other aspects of life are just as important as finding ''the one."
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