"Cosmopolitan" magazine loves nothing more than getting your poor, marriage-crazed panties in a wad by saying that things like your boyfriend "guarding his phone" are surefire signs that he's about to propose. Well, sorry, but that's probably not the case.
Five reasons he's not proposing. Nine ways to strengthen your relationship. Why (why NOT?) Don Draper would make a bad boyfriend. Can bad sex be fixed? How do you get rid of his crazy ex-girlfriend? Are you starting fights just for attention? 25 grand first-date ideas. Plus, how to support your parents during their divorce.
I'm a 27-year-old female, and I've been with my 31-year-old boyfriend for over five years now. About a year ago we started talking seriously about getting engaged within the next six months, but by the time fall rolled around, my boyfriend told me that though he loves me and wants nothing more than a future with me, he was just not ready for an engagement yet.
Women can fake orgasms. Men can fake entire relationships. This juicy tidbit marking the romantic distinction between males and females recently made its way onto my Twitter feed. Enjoying a brief chuckle after reading it, I soon realized how closely this alleged truth hits home: my friend Jay is in a fake relationship and I’ve been wondering if I should tell the girl.
Jack and I had our first romantic interlude on the 4th of July. Back in college, going out with someone usually meant deciding to end up in the same place, so I wouldn’t have called it a proper date. We met at Boston’s Charles River Esplanade, watched a couple bands and some fireworks, then Jack leaned over and said, “I dig you.” The rest was history. Over the years, I’ve come to believe relationships are meant to teach us how to relate authentically yet continue to be our most genuine selves. Some folks need to learn selflessness, others intimacy, and some just need to learn to put the toilet seat down. Kicking off my relationship life on Independence Day with Jack was hardly an insignificant twist of fate. This first real love set me off on an endless quest to learn the meaning of freedom. See, Jack already had a girlfriend. Thus, our year-long liaison was an education in
For the second time this year, my friend Kim has had to tell a guy who offered to pay her for sex to get lost. Though Kim is no bombshell, she’s certainly real-world hot. Great bod, killer personality, enough sexual dynamism to ignite World War III. Men write poems to her in European cafés, chat her up in bars despite the presence of their wives and girlfriends, and friend her on Facebook to tell her she’s still their “best” even if it’s been decades since their roll in the hay. When Kim was younger, she liked being a sexual supernova. No shame felt she for her wanton ways, her colossal lustiness, her stereotypically manly ability to separate sex from love. She wasn’t a man stealer or desperate fool. Kim was a healthy sexual being, as whip smart as she was sensual, as capable of meaty conversation as she was blowing minds in the sack. Then all in the same week, stuff happened. First, she had to tell
This week, my friend Adam got an ultimatum from his girl: marry me or I’m out. I’m on Adam’s side on this one and not just because he’s my friend. Adam isn’t ready. After years of navigating the peaks and valleys of romance, I finally get what this means. “I’m not ready.” One of the most mystifying sentences in the English language. If you’re about to jump out of an airplane with a busted parachute, or you’re a scallop that hasn’t been cooked all the way through, then by all means, you’re not ready. But not ready for love? Not ready for the comforting bonds of relationship? What kind of horse poo is that?
