Jet Black Heart. Part 2.

So, following on from my post about Valentine's Day, I thought I'd share with you an article I wrote concerning the imploding craze of #Relationshipgoals. Dun. Dun. DUN. This particular fad really gets under my skin, as it might do yours.

The following is longer and way more personal version of the article I wrote, drawing my own experiences and thoughts that have trailed through my mind. As well as letting you guys know about how destructive this ideal can be in the real world, I guess I try to advise you to look for happiness, not through our screens but right in front you. It can be unexpected, and sometimes- absolutely perfect in its own way.

 

So, bitches... Let the bitching begin...

 

With the ever-increasing surge of social media, and the overwhelming influence of the internet consuming the everyday lives of the modern adolescent, a phrase that has become all too popular amongst the rose-tinted and blissfully naïve minds of young romantics, or fantasists, some might say, has been the overly used thread of #relationshipgoals. A trend and topic that has inserted itself into our vast social domain, becoming a fad amongst the teenage population.

This trend allows those who dream of being loved to expect certain aspects of relationships by the one they adore. There is an overload of photos on our choice photo-sharing app, Instagram, depicting teenage and young adult couples engaging in acts of playful affection, with their surroundings almost as beautiful as the photo's intended main focus. Also, young males in their late teens to twenties, showing off their partners to their audience; dripping in expensive couture and overly ostentatious bling, us mere mortals can only dream of owning. Now, whilst these various displays of affection can be described as sickly boastful, by showing off the "simple" pleasures of intimacy, and lifestyles only a fraction of the globe enjoy, you always manage to catch a glimpse of that caption- #relationshipgoals.



 



@jayalvarrez "Steady diet ocean stlye @alexisreneg"

It's almost as if we, as a generation, have become obsessed with finding happiness and love, through the displays of affection of complete strangers. One then allows themselves to model what they consider to be the "ideal" or "pinnacle" of a relationship, to be based on the acts and behaviour of another. This can be seen by the exotic travels to various wonders of the world, the excessive demonstrations of wealth with lavish gifts, and experiences some of us may never be able to one day experience for ourselves. These vain and materialistic ideals which the next generation have immersed themselves in, can be fractious and poisonous to them when seeking the intimacy and affection from a partner.

 

These "goals" imply a set of instructions and guidelines for both boys and girls to follow in order to achieve this narcissistic perception of "love" many so desperately crave. Quotes that claim girls should be treated like princesses, put on a pedestal, and showered constantly with gifts; mainly consisting of branded clothes or extortionately priced make-up. That boys are these misunderstood beings that are besotted with their partner, living with this re-occurring nightmare of self-deprecation, fuelling their need to be constantly reassured from their other half that they are indeed loved.

 

These "goals" can manifest into frustrations and discontent when another doesn't treat you the way you think you should, or feel you deserve to be treated. Or that they don't share sympathy for your moodiness, or looking after you when you're on your period. Girls, it's nothing new, it happens to the rest of us, too.  When the behaviour of your partner doesn't match your expectations, you feel let down and decide to look for love elsewhere, in the hope that you'll be one step closer to achieving those "goals". If it is love the teenager generation believe they are searching for.

We grew out of idolising fairy tales, happily ever-after's, and finding Prince Charming as children, and now seem to be centring our focus upon on a more "realistic" depiction of what love and relationships appear to be. But is this rise of #relationshipgoals having the opposite effect on our sponge-like minds? Being more detrimental that helpful in achieve happiness? Or even making us resent what we are presented with in reality, and setting our sights on the seemingly never-ending fruitfulness and wealth of those that engulf our social media feed.

However, we have to be weary of the photos we like, or the tweets we retweet, taking them with a pinch of salt one post at a time. Photos are only a snapshot of someone's day. Do the photos many aspire to replicate really depict the reality of one's relationship? What about the other 23 hours 59 minutes and 59 seconds of the day? Just because a mere fraction of someone's relationship is publicised, it does not mean that it's an accurate account of the feelings that lie behind it. It merely captures the optimistic, note-worthy parts of the relationship, reinforcing the idea to their followers that that they are the perfect pair.

We have to ask ourselves whether the admiration for such displays of affection and adoration; with the nauseatingly, over-flattering declarations of one's love for another, or the three dozen red roses or the six foot teddy bear, or the grossly romantic trips to Pairs to celebrate an occasion, really constitute what it means to be in a relationship? Other whether we crave an actual relationship, or the materialistic attributes that seem to come along with it? Is it really love and happiness the next generation are searching for? Or is it our self-indulgent need to fill these materialist desires?

The self-reassurance that their partner worships the ground they walk upon, inadvertently implying that there are some people on this earth that are above human, exceed our expectations of human behaviour.

However, it is important to remember than we are human, we all want things, and to feel what we have never felt. But we don't have to aspire to others, and plague ourselves with the damning #relationshipgoals.

Are we really that un-satisfied with what's brought to us in the real world that we use the escape to social media to fuel our superficial and indulgent desires? Are we poisoning our minds with the thought that there is always someone better than ourselves, who can give us what we oh-so crave?

Every relationship is unique, and the fact that teenagers believe they should behave in a certain way contradicts the idea that a relationship something to cherish, becoming more about what the two people gain, rather than about each other. Expectations of #relationshipgoals can be shattered within an instant, with our emotions fuelling our passion, rather than what we think we're going to expect.



@ellenjenne9 "Bristol's pretty... Some waterfall in the middle of nowhere with some idiot" 



A relationship becomes about the little things, not the grand gestures, to prove affection. It's all their quirks and the tiny details that no one else notices, which makes your relationship your own goal. The conversations until unholy times of the morning, fuelled by the alcohol you consumed only hours before. The effort you put in to get to know each other. Even if that does mean staying up an extra hour to wish them Happy New Year because you're in a different country, and an hour behind (whilst being heavily intoxicated at work. It's fine, no one noticed). The fact that his favourite colours are orange and black. Or that she prefers drinking tea to coffee. Or that he prefers numbers, whilst she prefers words. That you share each other's secrets and anxieties, even at one 'o' clock in the morning after an exam gone wrong. Or that he switches the song playing through your speakers whilst you create, what can only be described as a Smurf massacre, as you unskilfully re-dye that blue hair, and it's always seems to be the same one. I've never heard that song the same way. Or when you bring back a small gift from a holiday, just to show that you were thinking about them. Breaking the speed limit on country lanes in a tiny go-cart of a car, listening to rock music. Enjoying the simple pleasures in life between the two of you, no one else.

You become your own goals, your own adventure, your own Romeo and Juliet (without the morbid ending), and the author of your own story. #Relationshipgoals no longer matter, and shouldn't be the main influence for finding the "perfect" relationship, and it's frightful to see that the next generation seem to glorify the glamorous and finer things in life. We should break this stereotype by realising that no two relationships are ever gong to be explicitly the same. Don't worry about replicating the relationship and lifestyle of complete strangers, because it does not guarantee finding your own happiness. Embrace the unexpected love and opportunities that come your way, because in the end, your own adventure is more important than any #relationshipgoals will ever be.

So like I said in Part 1, write your own kick-ass love story. Don't listen to the do's and don'ts, just live! It's important to remember that we don't have to conform to any ideal, but to live in the moment we have been given.

“You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.”- Oscar Wilde

Jet Black Heart. Part 1.

With only a week until dreaded Valentine's Day, I feel it is only appropriate to share my irritation for it. I'm not the only one who believes the day had been made less about "love" and more about the consumerist bullshit that goes with it. It's frightfully sickening.

I think this perspective comes from my parents. I have no doubt they love each other in their own way, but they've never been ones to publicise their affection, not even buying a card for each other to celebrate the day. But that's what they're like. They don't have to buy each other things on one specific day of the year to prove that their 20 years of marriage actually means something. 

So that's how I went about my first Valentine's with my ex last year. We'd only been "official" for just over two weeks, and I didn't see the point in us doing anything "special" because we knew we didn't have to. And we are not the sort of people to be all lovey-dovey. Well, he might be, but I definitely wasn't. The idea of us contributing to this façade was relinquished further, when my ex had decided to go home for the weekend. He hadn't seen his parents since the Christmas holidays, so his decision seemed perfectly reasonable. He even asked my permission it was okay! Shock. Horror. I just laughed in response, telling him that he didn't need my permission! 

 

It was decided, admittedly under the influence of numerous Jaeger bombs and double vodka cokes, that we would "celebrate" Valentine's Day two days later, on Monday 16th, after he had come back home and just before I departed for my short trip to Amsterdam with a few friends from uni, in a club where we had unexpectedly stumbled upon one of his friends from home; who's also studying at the same university, and his girlfriend who was coming to visit. I don't exactly remember how the entire conversation paned out, but I vaguely remember my ex shouting in my ear over the awfully remixed music, that we were going to dinner with his friend and his girlfriend. I'm fine with meeting new people in any instance. But this was something new. I was meeting these people, not as myself, but as "the new girlfriend". I had met my ex's friend once before, when he came on a night out with our friends only a week or so before. Suspiciously, it was around the time my ex started featuring me on his Snapchat story. The 10 second photos of me with my awfully dip-dyed green hair. It was blue to start with, okay? But apparently they weren't the first to ask who I was, and why my ex was spending so much time with me. And I don't mean every other evening for a few hours. I mean, everyday after lectures, we would spend hours procrastinating, eating junk food, and getting drunk with our friends. It was easy because we lived in the same halls of residence, and ours weren't exactly big. But I think that was our mistake. I had fallen for the boy downstairs, but I wasn't the only one. My old flatmate is currently seeing the guy she kissed on the first night of Freshers. Kudos to you guys.

 

It was then that he admitted that a few of his friends, who were retaking Year 13 back home, had heard buzzings about my presence in their best friend's new life at uni. The source- his mum. Who, I might add is a fucking legend, and is one the kindest and battiest women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. His entire family already knew about me! He had told me this not long after we had returned from the Christmas holidays, admitting that he had fallen asleep and left his phone unlocked. And low and behold, his two older brothers had found the conversations between us. They weren't exactly private, but in all honesty, at this point I hardly knew the guy. Boy, how that has changed. Proof of this being plastered all over his Facebook profile. Much to his horror, and my amusement.

My ex had a lot of intrigue surrounding his new "friend", whereas, my family didn't even know he existed. I wasn't embarrassed, I just didn't want to get ahead of myself, because neither of us knew what was going on, or where it was headed. All I know is that my feelings for him had changed from "friend" to something else in a period of three weeks. His feelings, I am unsure of, both now and then. But there seemed to be indications that he liked me more than I did at that time. I mean, what possessed him? 
Of course our friends from uni knew what was going on, but the outside world seemed too distant for me to bring him into that part of my life. Something I found myself contemplating; whether I regret bringing those two components of my life together.

 

Anyway. I was left alone on Valentine's weekend, and I couldn't have given less of a shit. The thing I found funny, was that my ex's mum had even messaged him when he told he of his plans to go home, that she was concerned that I wasn't okay with it! He knew my views on the day, and he knew that we didn't have to single out one day of the year to celebrate with each other.

That's not to say I didn't succumb a little bit to the nonsense of the day. I know, call me a hypocrite. But so did he, and it wasn't as if it was a grand gesture. He bought me my favourite chocolates- Guylian. If you've never tried them, then go buy some right now. Because I can't describe them enough to validate their deliciousness. And I bought him cider. Yes, I know it seems impersonal, but makes more sense when I tell you that my ex boyfriend hailed from the vast valleys of Somerset. And, oh yes, does he have a strong Bristolian accent. Something I continue to laugh at when he says words in an odd way, like "bath" or "three". Something I probably shouldn't find endearing or attractive anymore. Cider isn't just his poison, it's his version of water, with all it's varieties of flavours- from the strong and sour "proper" West Country apple cider, to the smooth and unusual fruit combinations of Scandinavia.

Even though I didn't care much for the day, it was nice to know that my ex was still thinking of me. And I know this because he got tipsy with his mates at the pub, and told me that he wished he hadn't gone home, and that he would've rather spent the weekend back at uni. He assured me that he would make it up to me when he came back. Is it bad that I still have that message nearly a year later? It was also the overwhelming cringe-worthy text I woke up to, the first thing being an apology for being so gross with me. But secretly-- I enjoyed it. It was something I hadn't experienced before, or thought would ever happen, so I will freely admit that maybe, to an extent I was wrong.  

 

Valentine's Day, yes, can be wonderful to celebrate for some couples. But for me, I'll happily stick to doing something special for my other half on any other day of the year, and not being dictated by modern consumer culture. So whatever category of couple you might see yourself fitting into, don't worry about the day. Don't sweat, it's all cool, bitches. Do something to celebrate if you want. Go out to that fancy restaurant that has a reservations list as long as your arm. Buy those flowers. Write that card, or letter- if you're feeling confident. Just enjoy the day, or don't see it as something to be perceived in awe. Just chill, it's just another day of the year.

 

Now, my personal feelings on the day don't just lie in my experience. I just don't care. Whatever happens, happens. Just love that person like they are the only one for you.

This first part has centred around the daunting concept of Valentine's Day, but another feature that is to take shape is that of #Relationshipgoals.

 

So stay tuned for part 2, where I delve into the crux of the impact of social media and how it affects not only our perceptions of relationships, but also those relationships we encounter ourselves.

 

So whilst blindly loved-up couples go about their preparations for the day, I'll stick to my own style, which include going to a Traffic Light Party at our local student dive, or reading about the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Different, I know. Either way, the day will occur with exceedingly preposterous amount of consumerism shoving itself into our faces. Write your own kick-ass love story.

 

"We loved with a love that was more than love"- Edgar Allan Poe.