I recently moved in with my BF of 3 years after graduating college. He was initially totally lazy and devoid of any work ethic of any kind. He now does housework (albeit poorly) if I point out exactly what needs to be done and show him how to do it. Additionally, he hasn't had a job and has been living off his trust fund for the past 6 months. I come home from work to him playing video games with no plans for dinner and a sink full of dishes. That being said, it really does seem like he's (1/?)
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trying to get better, mostly due to my nagging, begging, pleading, being passive aggressive, screaming, calmly talking to him, etc etc. He just got a minimum wage grunt work job, which is better than nothing, and has an interview for a much more stable office work job, which is what I do. We both have great aspirations but he doesn’t necessarily seem like the successful type, and I feel like it’s becoming shit or get off the pot type. I find all of his lazy traits incredibly unattractive and recently our sex life has tanked and I’ve withdrawn intimacy, not because I want to be a jerk but because I honestly am no longer attracted to him. I can see myself falling back in love with him once he grows up a little, and he’s pretty in love with/affectionate to me. He treats me well, I just… am sick of waiting for him to grow up. I can see a change is around the corner but I wonder if it’s too little, too late. Should I stick it out or give up?
Readers won’t stop sending the Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is periodically going to try her hand at answering them.
“He treats me well” is the sword on which vibrant, intelligent, show-stopping people throw themselves before they fold into a life of surrender and away from their wonderful potential for self-love and growth.
Let’s review: you’re not romantically or sexually attracted to a man about whom you can tell the Bad Advisor nothing substantively positive, you spend most of your time “nagging, begging, pleading, being passive aggressive, screaming, calmly talking to him” just to get him to do the bare minimum of shit most people would require in a not stellar roommate, and you recognize that he is the type of dude who leaves it to other people (women, perhaps, mostly?) to do his life things for him.
Your lot in life is not to be an object of adoration or affection for any other person. You are a star that can and will shine; don’t dull yourself for a dull man. This is the dull story that we particularly tell our little girls: be loved by a man—really any man—and in that you will be fulfilled.
But you aren’t fucking fulfilled. You’re living with a trust fund dudebaby who dulls your gorgeous star, and you fucking know it. He does not, in fact, “treat [you] well.” He treats you like a child treats a house cleaner or a waiter or a babysitter.
You do not have time to wait around while this dude gets his shit together. In fact, you are not a necessary part of his getting his shit together. He can—and should—do that without you. If he ever figures it the fuck out, maybe he can buy you a drink someday.
You were with this guy for three years in college. You’re done with that part of your life now. You’re both different today. You’re both doing different things. You’re not interested in the same things.
You are not interested in him.
That is enough. That is all you need. You have permission to leave.
Take your shiny, beautiful, ambitious star and pack it in a glittering, clear suitcase and leave this dim, dreary man for a life—a single life, a partnered life, a whatever life—surrounded by people who do not require fixing, who have vision and verve and wonderful and strange things to add to a bright, beautiful future in which you are allowed to stretch and grow and expand into a person not satisfied only to be loved by someone else, but to be a person who is loved by you, yourself.