19 Things Grown-Ass Women Aren't Afraid To Admit They Do Sometimes
I write about my life (sometimes, pretty intimately) on the Internet often. That's how I get money to pay for exotic luxuries like rent and corn chips. I'm very honest about less savory components, too, because they're still part of it. There are just some things grown-ass women aren't afraid to say they do regularly, and oh boy, if this weird stuff is the true measure of grown-ass-ness, I am such an adult.
hurting youPart of being grown is removing the power from The Facade. The Facade is the 100% make-believe pressure we all invented to fabricate a false reality in the way we present ourselves to others. The Facade dictates we pull on slightly snug jeans out of sight of our significant others in the morning. The Facade pushes us to carefully orchestrate a vase of flowers behind us before snapping and posting a selfie so it all looks very cazjh (that's short for casual, which is a thing you will forever have to perpetuate yourself as, according to The Facade's iron-clad rules). The Facade demands you never ever mention your ugly history with alcohol or your dead mother or a current prescription to anti-depressants in a remotely public way. It makes people uncomfortable, and The Facade is all about keeping things safe for cazjh consumption. Well, I gotta say: Fuck the facade.
From this point forward, it will be referred to in lowercase letters to illustrate the stripping of its power, because ain't no one got time to keep up with the facade. For starters, let's review some things grown-ass women don't fear to admit doing with regularity:
I've said it before, but here I go again: FOMO is for very young people (or people of any age, actually). Staying in fucking rules, because then you can do literally whatever you want, and also, there's a bathtub that begs to be lounged in while you drink wine. Grown-ass women don't let the facade force you to attend that trite art opening across town on a Tuesday night showing stuff from no one they even know or are close to. Grown-ass women, when tired or feeling especially compelled, just stay in. And don't need to Instagram evidence to collect likes and emojis as validation for doing so.
If everyone at Tuesday night's dinner feels pooped but a grown-ass woman cops a second wind and decides to tag along to acquaintance's field trip to the strip club after paying the tab, that's that. It isn't the facade guiding you, it's a sudden burst of energy and simply feeling like it.
If that's where your life is (as it is wont to do, sometimes in recurring episodes), then good for you. Sex is a wonderful thing we all have the freedom to partake in, if we want it. Often when we do want it, we find ourselves without an obvious, designated partner. Like, being single is awesome, but a downside is that there isn't someone readily available for sex. So as grown-ass women, we find viable partners elsewhere, which means it technically qualifies as casual sex. This can be an empowering thing and shouldn't suffer secret status, if the grown-ass women partaking in it feels like sharing.
Being crazy about your S.O.
Hey, maybe you found this person through casual sex! (Weirder things have happened, although I should mention this isn't a terribly common outcome.) The facade demands a necessary chill when you discover another human who makes you happy, even if you've beaten the odds and found someone who also drool-laughs over fine cinema like Airheads or shudders over dogs in fancy outfits. Matches like these don't happen often and deserve a little celebration. Grown-ass women will throw a fistful of confetti at this event without going overboard and leaving the room a wreck.
Taking meals in bed
It is our right to do this, you guys. So when someone asks you about a renegade sesame seed in your sheets, you should own up to frequently enjoying everything bagels while horizontal in the sack with zero hesitation. Hell, if this sex person is lucky, they might even get to delight in half of one of these bed bagels at some point. Grown-ass women see no benefit to evading or lying about this answer. Eating in bed is awesome. Don't judge my journey.
Wanting to improve yourself
I am overwhelmed with joy about the huge recent push of this "love thyself fully" movement, but as a grown-ass woman, I also know it's totally chill to openly want to improve myself. Be it by (finally) signing up for a gym membership and begrudgingly dragging my ass there to run around it for half an hour or working to dissolve my impatient tendencies (I am so very guilty for screaming at cars like a maniac), I know this is simply a facet of growing up. There's a certain shade of humility involved in professing plans to improve or fix parts of your personhood, so many may avoid being transparent about their lives. But not a grown-ass woman.
That jam that racked up to the deal-sealing 11th like on Instagram in three earth minutes was certainly not captured on the first click. We might be foxy, but we're not unicorns (and TBH, no one is). No shame in taking a bad selfie. And no shame in retaking it until it comes out looking ~on point~.
Treating oneself—with $7 green juice or quick solo romp because you freaking feel like it—is essential to life running smoothly. Grown-ass women don't fear boldly loving their leisure time or the occasional luxury cold-press.
We don't have to take a splashy approach to expunge ourselves of errors made in the past, but we grown-ass women do freely own up. Life should be a constant learning process, and in every learning process ever, slips or glaring glitches go down. Grown-ass women's lives are no different so yeah, maybe the rare cigarette will get lit, and the rare deadline will get pushed. Perfection is BFFs with the facade, and we should stop striving to uphold both.
Not knowing the answers
Confidence is good but ought to be rooted in truth and qualifications. Nodding blankly during a meeting when something flies over your head helps no one. It's not a practice you'd catch a grown-ass woman doing. Instead, she'll be the one saying, "Wait, can we go back and get into that last point a little further? I want to make sure I fully understand."
Having been wronged
A few years ago, I took a former intern of mine to a dive bar in Williamsburg. We had two drinks each and both woke in the morning laying in tiny beds in a hospital in Bushwick. Someone drugged our margaritas, and although nothing lasting bad happened (save $200 cash stolen from my purse, which sucked, but I am endlessly thankful that loss combined with hospital and ambulance bills were the extent to the damage done), it seemed like something ugly I felt compelled to bury so deep it would erase ever happening. Why was I afraid to talk about this? We were young. I'm grown now. We were wronged. It's a sad event but one neither of us summoned in any way other than just existing at inopportune time at an inopportune place. In less dramatic scenarios, we can now talk about when people or the universe in general legit screws us over.
Being rude, when warranted
I take full responsibility for outrightly ignoring men whispering or shouting while I politely pump gas. I won't tip a bartender well if I hear them make a racist, homophobic, or otherwise hateful comment. When needed, we will be rude—which I guess, in a way, doesn't even count as rude anymore.
Calling people out in a constructively critical way
A good friend of mine had a frequent habit of interrupting me and our other friends. This wore on me with increasing soreness until I finally pointed it out during a flagrant instance. She confirmed my suspicion that it was absolutely not intended and frankly, she had no idea she did it so much. She quit the habit mostly and our friendship is much stronger because of that.
Letting it mellow
Both pee and conflict sometimes demands a little... time to sit. With the latter, it's not so much an avoidance of untangling the core of said conflict. It's more like allowing time to let yourself devise a plan and possibly develop insight as to how to start the sometimes long process.
Liking what they like
Whether it's wildly unpopular and generally regarded as tacky or so widely loved it's straight-up #basic, we grown-ass women have our own tastes and will act in a way that reflects that. I have been listening to Third Eye Blind for two hours now on this day in 2015 and I don't care who knows it.
Working your ass off
The whole cazjh cool, Ferris Bueller thing is horse shit. Basically, I want to murder the concept of things just falling into place. They don't. They take effort to hoist and sometimes you feel like you might pop an important head vein kicking with all your might to move something into place. Grown-ass women know and openly explain that they got to their bad-ass position in life by giving a damn and kicking with full force. This could be in relation to a highly dope gig you hold down, a seven-minute mile, an immaculate outfit, whatever. It didn't happen on accident.
Sometimes, the struggle is in vain and you know it. Sadly, not everything we think we want—or truly believe we want—is meant to or even can happen. Sometimes these things include minor successes, like showering in the morning before work. Other times it can be a bit more grim, like reconnecting with an estranged loved one. Giving up on things that are hurting you or have no realistic future (or involve waking up on your first alarm) is freeing, and life is too short to kill yourself slaving to please the facade. It just is.
Conversely to the pride thing grown-ass women don't shame, it's absolutely healthy to be down at times. I see no point in indulging so deeply in the sadness to decorate your social media presence with emotional status updates that toe the line of bummed and worrisome behavior. However, disappointment is a real emotion each and every single one of us experience. It's a balance between the darkness and light and it must happen to keep those two separate. It's a passing storm cloud, a thing that's vital in maintaining that nice, green grass on your side of the fence.
I will acknowledge there is such a thing as narcissism. There's no need to rub others' faces in your achievement or luck. But the occasional swagger when you pull of a tough task? That's earned, and should not come cloaked in unnecessary modesty. Embrace the sweet victory of something difficult you made happen.
Fuck the facade. We're grown now.
Images: Miramax; Giphy (19)