good advice interlude

anonymous asked:

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/?)

(continued from longer ask) 

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 I find all of his lazy traits incredibly unattractive and recently our sex life has tanked and I’ve withdrawn intimacy, not because I want to be a jerk but because I honestly am no longer attracted to him.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.

anonymous asked:

An ex of mine is sending me mixed messages. We were friends for 3 years, we dated, he broke it off, and we went back to being friends. He would lean his head on my shoulder, wrap his arms around me, etc. I was confused and my friend got the information that he liked his ex. Then he started dating another girl. Even when they were dating he was touchy with me and even kissed me. They broke up but he still likes to hug me, hold my hands, call me beautiful, and kiss my cheeks. wtf do i do?

Readers won’t stop sending the Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is going to try her hand at answering them.

Dear WTF,

Your ex is not sending you mixed messages. Your ex is sending you one extremely clear message: he likes having you around for light petting and is not interested in dating you—or, based on the information you’ve given here, anyone else—exclusively. In the movies, this dude would be a confused bad boy whom you, the misunderstood and pining love non-interest, would eventually charm into ending his dally-wag light petting ways. In real life, this dude is perfectly capable of going out with you if he wants to, but he doesn’t want to. Remember that time he told you he didn’t want to go out with you? He doesn’t want to go out with you.

Because you’ve asked “WTF do I do?” the Bad Advisor assumes that you’re not cool with this arrangement, which means that what the fuck you do is tell this dude to cool it with the light petting, limit your contact with him, and seek out friendships (platonic or otherwise) that don’t make you ask yourself questions like “What the fuck do I do?” Spend your brain-waves, heart-chugs and pants-jitters on relationships that aren’t held together by Scotch tape, telepathy and second-guessing. 

anonymous asked:

So I'm a 19 year old college student and am completely crushing on my 29 year old professor. I love older guys and I can tell we have so much in common and he's just so great and I'd love to get to know him outside the classroom. I plan on possibly pursuing this once the semesters over, but how? How do I know if he's interested

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.

There’s no way to tell you this without sounding like a condescending asshole but please believe the Bad Advisor when she tells you that someday you will be 29, and you will think that a 29-year-old professor dating his 19-year-old former student is a whole fucking lot of things and “cool” or “awesome” or “a good idea” will not be one of those things, and you will laugh and laugh in retrospect at the foolishness of youth.

Put this dude in your spank bank and leave him there. Preserve the magic professor fantasy. You don’t want to know what this dude’s morning breath smells like. It’s fucking gross and it smells like him giving you patronizing little lectures about Proust and making excuses about how much more special your relationship will be if you never ever tell anyone about it.

If you absolutely have to bone someone a decade older than you or your world is going to fall afuckingpart, find someone whose life and work isn’t intimately intertwined with the college you attend.

anonymous asked:

My school starts in a week and a half, and this is the third school I've been to due to excessive bullying and harassment. It's really stopped me from being social and confident, and I don't know how to prepare myself to go in confident for my sophomore year. Were/are you confident in school? Do you have any tips on how to make myself seem like someone with confidence? I'm scared.

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.

The Bad Advisor was bullied in dance class as a kid, and it was horrible. For years, dance class was a wonderful haven of fun jumps and twirls, until one day … it just wasn’t. Suddenly the Bad Advisor didn’t have the right leotards, and her favorite dancing—tap dancing—became way less “cool” than jazz dancing. Suddenly the Bad Advisor stopped getting invited to dance class sleepovers. Three times a week, the Bad Advisor had to go hang out in a room full of mirrors with a bunch of assholes who hid her shoes, poked her glasses and made fun of the Beatles pins on her bag.

But then, during a month-long break between competition seasons, the Bad Advisor resolved to change all of this. The Bad Advisor convinced her parents to let her get contact lenses and wear makeup. She started listening to “cool” music like All 4 One and Real McCoy. She bought only name-brand leotards and got her mom to buy her a pair of Limited Too jeans. The Bad Advisor got a perm and shaved her legs!!!!!!!! The Bad Advisor could not wait to go back to dance class and show those assholes JUST HOW COOL AND CONFIDENT AND JUST LIKE THEM SHE REALLY WAS!1!!111!!!

Can you even imagine how excited and nervous Bad Advisor was for the first day back to dance class!?!? SHE WOULD SHOW THEM ALL!!! THE SLEEPOVER INVITATIONS WOULD LITERALLY POUR IN!!!!!

Can you even guess what happened next? The Bad Advisor bets you can. As soon as the Bad Advisor’s buttbag bully classmates saw her new Limited Too jeans, and heard her talking about that hot new Real McCoy song, and caught sight of her sparkly pink lip gloss, the Bad Advisor’s buttbag bully classmates decided that Limited Too was for babies, Real McCoy was like soooooo two months ago and lip gloss was not nearly as cool as lipstick. There were no sleepover invitations forthcoming. Bad Advisor’s buttbag bully classmates just found new shit to make fun of Bad Advisor for.

But then another thing happened: a new girl joined the dance class, and she liked the Beatles and reading paranormal YA and pretending to understand the political commentary in Rolling Stone. With her new friend, the Bad Advisor gave herself permission to like all the stuff that she really liked, and permission to surround herself with people who really liked her and really liked stuff she liked with her. Instead of worrying about being the wrong person for other people who would forever find new reasons to be dissatisfied with her, the Bad Advisor learned to try to be the right person for herself and the people she really respected. 

The Bad Advisor eventually quit dance class just before her freshman year of high school—the bullying never totally stopped, but once the bullies perceived that the Bad Advisor was not as invested in making them happy as they were in making the Bad Advisor miserable, it did subside somewhat.

But Bad Advisor went into that year of high school knowing some things about herself, much of which came out of making that new friend with shared interests who she could learn and laugh with: what kind of music she liked, what kind of jokes she liked, what kind of Telnet chat rooms she liked (did Bad Advisor mention this was BACK IN THE DAY?), and what kinds of things she was interested in learning about and trying, and what kinds of people she might like to learn and try things with. That allowed Bad Advisor to find groups at school she really loved (theater, newspaper), and to recognize bad bunches of apples that were going to make her sad (why was media club so weirdly full of jerks? YMMV!). It also helped her to not be afraid of all new people. All new people are not bullies.

But look, school might always be a place where people are asshole bullies to you, Letter Writer. The Bad Advisor cannot promise you a magical way to be that will keep the bullies at bay. However, the Bad Advisor can tell you that when you get to talk about and experience the things you love with friends and family members who care about you, the specter of bullying looms less large. The Bad Advisor recommends feeling out some potential teachers/activity sponsors who you can trust to confide in for a few minutes at lunch or after school—because you need an adult ally if shit really gets unmanageable, specifically an adult ally who will believe you and not tell you to “just ignore it and they’ll go away” because that is not a sustainable option—and get yourself invested in some extracurriculars where you can feel out some potential allies. 

Don’t worry about walking into school on the first day with your COOL CONFIDENT PRETEND MASK on. Pay attention to your teachers, get to classes on time, and listen to and watch the folks around you. You don’t need to make 10 friends the first day, or even the first semester, or ever. Think about things you like and are interested in: programming? engineering? film noir? playing music? sewing? the rise and fall of communism in Eastern Europe? Look and listen for people who share those interests, and ask them about them if you get a chance. Smile at people when you talk with them, and look them in the eye every once in a while. Ask them questions you are genuinely interested in knowing the answers to. Shower regularly and brush your teeth.

It’s not about making yourself “seem like someone with confidence,” it’s about trusting yourself and caring for yourself and giving yourself permission to do the things you want and love to do. That, LW, will read as “confidence” to anyone who meets you.

And go watch all of My So-Called Life and Freaks & Geeks.

anonymous asked:

so my boyfriend is going to be a counselor at his sleep away camp from june to august. you know how sleep away camps are, hookups and sometimes sex. i know for a fact that there are girls there that want him. he's not the type to cheat or anything and i hate being that nervous girlfriend. i'm just going to miss him and i'm not going to see him at all except for 1 or 2 days. what am i going to do?

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.

BOY HOWDY DOES THE BAD ADVISOR EVER KNOW HOW SLEEP AWAY CAMPS ARE. HOOOOOOBOY. MORE LIKE ‘NOT GETTING ANY SLEEP’ AWAY CAMPS!

But the Bad Advisor went to Christian sleep away camp, so probably she has a skewed view of your average sleep away camp’s hump quota - perhaps the teenagers at your sleep away camp only spend 95 percent of their time trying to figure out how to hump each other, who knows.

Regardless, here’s what you’re going to do:

  1. Quit preemptively blaming girls at camp who “want” your boyfriend for whatever imagined liaisons lurk in the back of your mind. If you and your boyfriend are in a mutually-agreed-upon monogamous relationship and he violates the terms of that agreement, it doesn’t have jack shit to do with the girls (or whoever else) he’s doing it with. It’s not other girls’ responsibility to make sure your boyfriend keeps his promises - it’s your boyfriend’s job to make sure he keeps his promises.
  2. Accept that you cannot worry your boyfriend into not cheating on you. What makes committed monogamy work? Mutual trust, honesty and a fuckload of luck. Set aside some quality private, sober time with your boyfriend to talk about what will happen this summer when he goes to camp, and what your concerns are. I bet he has some concerns, too.
  3. Your life doesn’t go on “hold” while your boyfriend is at Camp Humpaway. Now is the time to FOR YOU to get a summer job, volunteer gig, elaborate digital movie-making plan, novel-writing schedule, poetry reading circuit, D&D group, road trip, literally anything interesting, cool and time-consuming for you to do while boyf is cleaning scorpions out of his bedsheets and yelling at 10-year-olds to eat their mystery meat. Because if you spend this summer twiddling your thumbs at home worrying your ass about who or what Boyf is humping, you are going to have the most boring fucking summer of all time in addition to doing nothing that will mitigate the fallout if Boyf does end up doing the Top Bunk Tango with someone else. If Boyf’s going to cheat on you, and who the fuck knows, maybe he will, you will thank yourself for having some good distractions on your plate. If Boyf doesn’t cheat on you? You will be a more interesting human, regardless of Boyf’s pants-decisions.
  4. There is no way to say this one without sounding like an old, boring asshole, but: statistically and practically speaking it is EXTREMELY FUCKING UNLIKELY that you and Boyf are going to be mutually monogamous together forever until you float away into the geriatric ether. As such, you may benefit from viewing your relationship not as something that you can control, or make fit into a particular narrative, but as an exploration of who you are and what you want in life, and as a way to figure out who you best fit with when it comes to being you and doing the things you want to do. Which won’t immediately make you feel any better if it turns out your boyfriend violates any mutually agreed-upon rule not to hook up with other people, but may allow you to approach the prospect with a little more calm and a little less worry. You can’t mentally will someone into doing what you want them to do, which means that if Boyf cheats on you, it isn’t a statement about you or your worth. And you don’t want a boyfriend who you have to guilt/shame/nag/beg/coerce into keeping promises and treating you the way you want to be treated. 
  5. Remain realistic: you said it yourself - sleep away camp can be hormone city for teenagers, and it is fun and exciting to meet new strangers at camp around whom you can be new/fun/different/experimental versions of yourself. Chances are good your boyfriend is going to meet some crush-worthy friends at camp. Facts. So what about if instead of worrying/mind-zapping at him and hoping he doesn’t hook up with them, you both talked honestly about what happens if he does meet someone he Likes In That Way? Moreover: what if while you’re away from the boyf this summer … YOU MEET SOMEONE YOU LIKE IN THAT WAY? You’re not Rapunzel, locked away in some tower. You’re a human person who is gonna do some cool shit this summer, right? So talk with your boyfriend about that. Maybe kissing or holding hands with other people is okay; maybe it isn’t. Maybe he wants to know if you get nether-urges for someone else. Maybe he doesn’t. I know talking about this stuff can be awkward, but if you can’t discuss it with him? It ain’t the potential cheating that’s putting your relationship in danger.
  6. Affirm that your cool life is not a thing that starts after a certain period of time, contingent on whether other people do or do not do things that you want them to do. Your summer is your summer. It’s not Your Boyfriend’s Summer Which You Will Slog Sulkily Through Like A Worrypant Zombie Until The Life-Bringing Boyfriend Returns.

tl;dr: legit, your boyfriend might decide to cheat on you and you seriously cannot stop him if he makes that decision, so pack your summer with interesting stuff to do because the future is NOW and your life is TODAY.

anonymous asked:

so I just went to a new school and so far all I've heard the other girls talk about what people are wearing and how "slutty" it is and stuff how do I start conversations without getting off topic and not being mean how does this work? like all I want to do is trade mix tapes or make a band or something

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.

Be the change you want to see in the world, friend!

Don’t worry about being mean to mean-ass people who sit around trying to divine the sexual habits of friends and strangers from the kind of clothes they wear. And why are you worried about being off-topic when the topic is shitty-ass sexist sexism?

Lead by motherfucking example:

Person: Wow, Tinkywink sure is slutting it up in that skirt today!

You: Who cares? Tell me your favorite songs about gambling, I’m makin’ a mix tape.

Person: Yeah yeah yeah, but SLUTTY SLUTTIMES.

You: Is that a song about gambling?

[Scene]

Or:

Person: Ohmygod, check out Higgledyskank’s stripper heels, is she on her way to work or something?

You: Sucks that a T-Rex would have a really hard time playing the flute, huh?

Person: I’m sorry, did you miss the asinine shit I was just talking about another human being?

You: Their little arms, you know?

[Scene]

Repeat, repeat, repeat. And look, you’re a girl at this new school who wants to start bands and make mixtapes, and Bad Advisor bets a dinosaur tail that you’re not the only one. You might need to shake up your lunch routine, or join a couple new clubs before you find like-minded folks. Don’t write off all the girls at your school before you’ve given them a chance to be cooler to their fellow gals. They might be waiting for someone just like you to give them permission to break out of old, slut-shaming habits. 

anonymous asked:

My boyfriend lives 3000 miles away. with a 3 hr time diff and his busy schedule we dont get to talk as much as id like. I'll ask him to facetime when I think he's not doing anything too important. he insists that I ask him to not do anything at all and that I get upset when he even eats dinner which isn't true at all. he'll tell me that "were not going over this again" even tho nothing's changed. he says he tries his best to make me happy but like I don't think im asking that much?? and (c)

(continued from ask) … © all my friends agree w me. He gets really defensive when I try to bring it up and says that I’m taking things out of nowhere. And he says that I am his priority but he just likes to do other things too which I totally get. it’s hard for me bc I’m not a busy person at all and by 8:30, I’m done for the day where it’s still 5:30 for him and he’s just gotten home. I’m just afraid that he’s gonna get tired of me being so needy. idk. am I being ridiculous?

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.

There is one sentence and one sentence alone that stands out in your ask, Letter Writer. It is not a sentence about your boyfriend. It is not a sentence about the perils of long-distance relationships. It is not a sentence about time zones. Actually it’s just part of a sentence. This one:

“I’m not a busy person at all”

The answer to your question doesn’t have anything to do with your boyfriend, or time zones, or Facetime.

You need to get busy, Letter Writer. I don’t know why you’re not busy. My guess—and this is speaking from the Bad Advisor’s very own personal experience with long-distance relationships—is that a little bit of you is ‘not busy’ just in case you need to be ‘not busy’ during those precious few moments when your busy boyfriend has time for you on the other side of wherever. Now, I might be wrong about that. If I am, whatever. 

The advice still stands: get busy. It is boring and frustrating to date someone who doesn’t have much going on in their lives, whether you live in the next country or next door. I don’t mean you need to turn into Gatsby Partytime Partyface, but you need some shit going on. It sounds like every time your boyfriend is turning his attention to you, you’re signaling something along the lines of “AT LAST! NOW LIFE IS HAPPENING! THANK YOU FOR ARRIVING, LIFE!” You can’t wait on this dude to give you something to do with your time. It puts a shit ton of pressure on him, and it means your main occupation is a combination of worrying and thumb-twiddling, the two most useless things it’s humanly possible to do with your time.

I’ll be honest, I can’t tell from your letter whether you’re communicating abject neediness to an overwhelmed boyfriend who is trying to tell you that he can’t be tethered to you through an iPhone 24/7, or that he’s a careless buttbag who only wants to check in when it’s convenient for his lifestyle. Why can’t I tell? Because you’re not busy, and you can’t tell. 

Find a video game you love, a fandom that speaks to you, an intramural sport, a theatre program, a political organization, a knitting group, some motherfucking painting lessons or any combination of these or other things. Go do them. Stop waiting around for 8:30 every night. Let 8:30 pass you by. Let 8:30 become 9:30 and 10:30 because you’re so engrossed in your new friends or new activity or new volunteer group. Let your relationship be something that can fit into your lifestyle, rather than building a lifestyle that is solely meant to accommodate your relationship.

anonymous asked:

Dear Bad Advisor: I am a 20-year-old (grown-ass) woman, recently turned agnostic, sort of really opposed to ritualistic religious practices. I grew up with strict Hindu parents who force me to join in prayer, walk around the deities three times at the temple, that sort of thing. I've tried reasoning with them, but alas. They don't care for that stuff. I don't want to start a fight, but each time I have to light the oil lamp and say my prayer, my blood pressure goes through the roof. Any advice?

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.

Boy howdy, can the Bad Advisor see herself in your question, LW! Shout out to all her fellow expats from organized, parent-endorsed religions in the world! 

Look, you’re 20 years old, and you’re in a Place. Bad Advisor doesn’t mean that to be condescending! If you’re anything like a lot of 20-year-olds, especially a lot of 20-year-olds realizing that they’re not juking and jiving with everything their parents spent a couple of decades teaching them, there are well-worn paths leading into and out of that Place.

It sounds like you’ve tried to talk to your parents about why you’re not down with the particular iterations of the religious practices that you grew up with, and which they still adhere to. Having that conversation is hard as a hard butt, so kudos to you for having the guts to use your words in the first place. This is a sign that you are a mature, thoughtful person who wants to treat her parents like adult-equals.

But think of it from your parents’ perspective: they raised you, this person whose butt they used to wipe like four times a day (four? Bad Advisor doesn’t know how many times babies do poops) to do and believe in a thing that they believe is true and helpful and important, and you get one leg out of the nest and next thing they know, you’re telling them that that thing they wanted you to know and believe and love and find important and life-giving is just kind of … not your bag.

That has got to be a hard thing for a parent to hear.

The Bad Advisor watched her own parents hear it from her. They were angry and heartbroken and frustrated. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth. There were guilt bombs dropped. It was a horrible thing and there was nothing the Bad Advisor could do about the fact that this thing she had once so loved, and so been taught to love, was just, like, deeply unbelievable and in many ways totally unpalatable and in even more ways like, a demonstrably bad thing for some people.

This is the gamble of parenting—a game that, unfortunately, a lot of parents think is or should be rigged entirely in their favor, so that when the dice stop rolling after eighteen or twenty years, they end up with the adult human they ordered two decades ago. 

Your parents may never like this outcome. They may hold a grudge against you for years, decades, the rest of your life. That is on them. That is not your fault. They made a sentient human, and this is what happens when you make a sentient human. 

The question is: what can you do about it now? That depends on how much you need to rely on your parents for things like housing, food, school payments, etc. You say you “have” to do these religious rituals that you aren’t on board with, which makes Bad Advisor think that you—like a whole fucking lot of 20-year-olds—are reliant on your parents for some degree of basic world support.

Some parents are going to hold their financial or emotional support hostage until you Do Religion Right. This is a shitty thing, but it is a not uncommon thing. If this is the case with you, and your parents threaten to stop paying for X, Y, Z unless you Do Religion Right, Bad Advisor suggests that you work to become financially independent as quickly as possible.

IN THE MEANTIME: a thing you are probably discovering about religion is that it can, and does, mean so many different things to many, many different people. Yes, the rituals you do at the temple have specific meanings according to the tenets of an organized religion, but can you make these rituals mean something more or different for you, privately? 

An example: the Bad Advisor occasionally attends church services with her parents on major holidays, and this often involves taking communion (that’s when Christians “drink” and “eat” the blood/body of Jesus, and various Christian denominations interpret the ritual differently). The Bad Advisor takes communion, but she prefers to imagine that the ritual is not about a magic man in the sky and his bodily sacrifice to save her original-sin-ridden self from Hell, but about sharing the table of humanity with other people and the obligations that gives the Bad Advisor to not be a complete bag of shit when she lives in the world.

Can you work to reinterpret/retool the rituals you partake in now into something that means something more/different for you? No one but you has to know, and it may give you an interesting opportunity to think not only about these existing rituals, but about where you want to go with your faith and spirituality in the future, and what does and doesn’t work for you in developing your own agnosticism/whatever.

As for dealing with your parents in the long run: chances are, this is going to become less of A Thing over time. Your adulthood is new to your parents; as time goes on, they may become more acclimated to the adult person you will become, and so will you. As this happens, it’s important to draw loving boundaries with people who may mean well, but in trying to “help” you, are actually tremendously hurting/guilting/shaming you.

Get good at changing the subject and redirecting to cooperative tasks—especially tasks that remind your parents that you appreciate their help with things you really need help with:

  • “Thanks, Dad, I’ll think about that. Hey, how about this taco recipe?”
  • “I see what you’re saying, Mom. By the way, I’ve been wondering if you can help me install this fuckball of an IKEA shelving unit.”
  • “That sounds like it’s very important to you, Mom and Dad. Listen, this Rubik’s cube is giving me a hell of a fight. Ideas?”

Now, your parents may be inveterate fixers who take every ask for assistance as an opportunity to DOOOOO PAAARREENNTTIIIINNG ATTT YOOOOUUUU. If this is the case, you’ll want to change that script some:

  • “Those are great points, Dad, but I’m really trying to figure this one out on my own.”
  • “This sounds like a really interesting book, Mom. What did you like most about it?”

Most importantly, you say that you “don’t want to start a fight.” So … don’t! When you feel the conversation turning to fight-mode, rather than rational-adults-discussing-the-marvels-of-the-universe mode, disengage. Use some of those scripts up above, or simply leave the room, house, whatever, with as little fanfare as possible. Go for a walk. Head to class or work early. Your parents will, hopefully, eventually realize that they can’t argue you into sharing their faith—and, in fact, will probably realize that a coerced faith is no faith at all.

Depending on your family’s socio/cultural norms, some of these things may pose more difficulties than others; only you can find the right balance. It’ll take work. Years and years of work. As you become more secure in your adulthood and your own faith/spirituality/lack thereof, Bad Advisor suspects that you’ll feel a little more comfortable making small compromises (for example, attending services or performing rituals on special holidays, etc.), and feeling less obligated/pushed to resist/rebel.

Best of luck to you, LW!

Good Advice Interlude: Boys Are Confusing

Q: My Name is Charley (F) and Im 16.Okay so I’ll start from the beginning.. In 2013 (It was year 9) I found out that this guy I went to school with liked me and I thought it was a joke because it was his friend that bullied me who told me. They constantly told me about how he liked me, thought I was sexy and all that jazz. Now I majorly screwed it up because secretly I had a little thing for him even before I found out and I didn’t want them to bully me further if it was a joke so when they asked me if I’d be his girlfriend I told them I thought he was ugly and I’d rather be dead than have anything to do with him. Now after this I did notice a few really obvious signs that he liked me like he moved all the way across The classroom in one class we had together and sat on th desk in front of me where he’d invade my personal space and have his hand resting on my table. He would look at me constantly and always try to make me jealous with any girl and he’d turn to make sure I can see what’s happening. Fast forward to this year and we’ve recently just started talking from what started from me following him on Instagram to having a liking war with each others pictures to him adding me on Snapchat. The first time we talked was pretty chilled and I got to know him a little better this did include a little awkwardness as we played Truths and I brought up what happened in Year 9 and he basically denied everything which was mega embaressing and made me feel like I was somehow imagining everything, deluded and all. He then stopped talking to me for a while but then suddenly did again and our second conversation was a little sexual But it was still pretty chilled. Okay so this is where it gets confusing. He stopped talking to me for a full two weeks and wouldn’t like my pictures back on Instagram or anything. So last week on his birthday I said Happy Birthday to him knowing that he probably wouldn’t reply because maybe I shared too much with him in one of our conversations and he just wasnt interested but he did end up replying. 6 Days later was my birthday and he was the third person to say it to me. After that we had our most sexual conversation yet Where he told me he was attracted to me and even invited me over at that specific time which was 1AM lmao. So anyway, He’s gone back to ignoring and Two days I had the most awkward experience of falling off the bus on the way home from shopping right in front of him and two of his friends and He kinda smirked at me???? But he’s gone back to ignori g me so I don’t know what to think. Does he like me Or should I just give up? Because it affects me more than it should and kinda hurts my feelings…..

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.

Dear Letter Writer,

This is exhausting, this dude almost certainly sucks, and nobody who is worth your time will ever make you get a degree in Higher Emotional Calculus to figure out whether they like you.

Go learn to paint or some shit.

allegedlyperfect  asked:

I really want to cut my hair into a quiff like hairstyle and at the moment my hair is at my shoulders I'm scared I'm going to regret it in a week. Any advice?

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.

DOOOOOOOO IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

You’re gonna love it but even if you don’t guess what there’s a magical and wonderful thing about hair

IT GROWS BACK

Bad Advisor is biased because she used to rock a pomp and it made her feel like exactly one millionty goddamned dollars.

anonymous asked:

I need help. My friend is getting married in April and I agreed to be a bridesmaid after one of hers dropped out of the wedding. We have never met in person and we met through tumblr. My fiancé didn't want me to agree because we haven't met and so she assured me that she would take a trip here so we could meet and he would feel comfortable. In order to be there for the wedding, I would have to make an 8 hour drive alone or pay for a $300 plane ticket. Idk what to do... It's so close but it's....

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.

Dear Internet Bridesmaid,

Tumblr cut off your letter, so here’s your [cont] for the folks at home: 

[cont] it’s just so difficult. I have a feeling I can’t make that 8 hour drive alone and I don’t want my fiancé to be upset either… She promised she’d take the trip but she never did so I’m just freaking out

Here is the thing you do: you e-mail your friend and you tell her that while you appreciate and care about her (or whatever your nice-about-her feels are), you have had some time to consider it and you feel uncomfortable taking on the responsibility of a bridesmaid, particularly considering you agreed pending this visit that has not yet happened, and thank her so much for asking you, but it’s really not going to work for you and where please may you send her a very nice card and handmade candy goat candle, etc? 

Because here is the actual thing: you were asked to be a FILL IN BRIDESMAID. The Bad Advisor has a lot of internet-only friends and treasures those relationships and does not and would not and would never disavow the amazing power of knowing and meeting people online. The fact that this is an internet-based friendship, in the Bad Advisor’s opinion, has NOT A WHIT to do with the fact that ANOTHER HUMAN BEING asked you to be a BACK UP BRIDESMAID.

FILL.

IN.

BRIDESMAID.

Is she starting a fucking COLLECTION? Does she need X_NUMBER bridesmaids to qualify for her home loan? Without X_NUMBER bridesmaids, will little Timmy never escape the well? WHAT HAPPENS IF YOUR FRIEND DOESN’T FIND A SUBSTITUTE BRIDESMAID?

The Bad Advisor’s guess is that she’ll have one less bridesmaid and literally no person on planet fucking earth, up to and including the bride herownself if she has an ounce of good sense in hindsight, will ultimately give the tiniest of runny green shits.

Look, people pretty much get to do whatever asinine shit they want to do on their wedding day (in the Bad Advisor’s case, it was sing karaoke and eat macaroni and cheese) but the Bad Advisor draws the line at people playing dolls with their friends and loved ones because SPEEEEEESHHHHULLLLL DAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!1!!1!!!!1111!!!

Your friend is looking for a warm-ass body to occupy space. Only you can decide whether that’s a symptom of her being temporarily knocked out of her own meatsack due to the massive load of fuckery that is the wedding industrial complex, or whether she’s a functional asshole. Either way, the upshot is that please, please: don’t put your vehicle and your body and your mental health and your financial stability at risk just to play someone’s dress-up doll for a day unless it is your singular life’s dream to be that dress-up doll and holy balls, it sounds like it isn’t.

PS - The whole but-what-about-my-fiancé-feels part of your letter, in combination with the subject of the letter itself, suggests to the Bad Advisor that it might be worthwhile exploring whether you’re paying enough attention to what YOU want, letter-writer, and how YOU feel, every once in a while. Hugs.

maxcantgetyeflask  asked:

My kitchen smells like puke because it has been weeks since my roommate has done something with her dirty dishes. How do I ask her to clean up without staring yet another argument?

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.

Congratulations, there is no good way to tell people to clean up the shit they don’t want to clean up without pissing them off some, because people be taking all kinds of exception when other people be pointing out the shit they’re doing that falls into a category other than “exactly what I want to be doing when and how I want to be doing it.”

Unfortunately, cohabitation.

Here’s what you do do: you make a fucking chore chart like you’re all a bunch of children, because even adult roommates who live together are a bunch of children, because humanity. You put your name on it and her name on it and you list the shit you both need to do in a timely fashion every week (or whenever) and then you buy some fucking gold stars and give yourselves some gold stars when you do your shit on time. That way nobody can argue about not having done their shit/having to do too much shit.

In the long term, you find a roommate with whom you have an “our” kitchen, rather than a “my” kitchen, who will treat communal spaces with roughly the same respect/attention you like to treat communal spaces. This will take you approximately your whole fucking life, good ass luck.

anonymous asked:

been with this guy for three years & we recently broke up due to me having a drunk night & breaking up. he has cheated on me but says it's not cheating cause it's only text. when I was drinking I ended spilling all my feelings. i never drink that was my first time & he was mad & said im embarrassing. I called & apologized told him I didn't wanna lose him & he ignored. saw him today at a friends house & I tried to speak but he said I'll speak to you when I feel like it , am I really that wrong ?

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.

The booze gods gave you a great gift when they set this break-up in motion. This dude is a gaslighting hypocrite, and he sounds like a judgmental piddlyturd to boot. Enjoy life without him, it’s gonna be the best.

anonymous asked:

how to tell your mom you got your period??? i just dont want it to be awkward

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.

Once upon a mid-90′s, the Bad Advisor came home from her school trivia team practice and settled in to make her usual after-school snack of creamy chicken Top Ramen. She enjoyed her snack. She thought about the cute boy on the trivia team.

She needed to pee.

And pee she did. Until she realized that the sweet sanctuary of the bathroom had been invaded by an uninvited, and deeply unwelcome, visitor. 

A bloody spectre in her drawers, a cruel portent of stained-jeans-to-come.

The next thing the Bad Advisor remembers is running crying up the stairs from her mother.

You see, something happened between The Arrival Of The Uninvited Guest and the moment that poor, mortified, teenaged Bad Advisor gathered up the gumption to inform her mother of her new visitor. 

That something was abject mortification and fear. What did the Bad Advisor tell her mother? She has no idea. She imagines it proceeded in this fashion:

Enter Bad Advisor to den, finding Bad Advisor’s Mom watching her stories, meticulously recorded daily on VHS for after-work viewing.

Bad Advisor mumbles something about ithinkistartedmyperiodmom

Bad Advisor’s mum says something about YOU’RE A WOMAN NOW!!!!!!

Exit Bad Advisor, bawling.

Take heart, dear reader. With all but the most passionately casual-about-body-things parents, talking about your first period is going to be awkward. It just is. It will take you years to figure out the language you’re comfortable using when talking about menstruation and all its attendant wonders. 

So try this: catch your mom when nobody else is around, when she’s not doing something particularly stressful or time-intensive. And then you say this: “Mom, I think I started my period.” And then she will probably sort of get weepy or even cry and maybe hug you or just maybe she’ll run you into the bathroom and show you where the pads are and want to crawl under her own bed, herself. I don’t know.

“Mom, I think I started my period.”

That’s all you need. Practice it in the mirror a couple of times if that’s easier.

FSMspeed to you, reader. Life is about to get weird and awesome.

anonymous asked:

Okay, so this is probably going to be a multiple part question. I'm currently working as an au pair and yesterday I was going to pick up one of my children at school and on my way there a man stopped me and asked whether we knew each other or not. I said no, because I am new to the area and have never seen him before, but he was keen to talk so we did. During our conversation he explained that he had just recently returned from being an inpatient in a psychiatric ward (his exact words... (Pt. 1)

(Bad Advisor is pasting the rest of LW’s messages here)

… were: “I’m a little mentally insane” and he explained that he was looking to find friends, men and women, in the area to talk with. Now he was very nice and sweet in person and we exchanged Facebook information, but I gave him a false last name because I don’t like to give out my personal information to strangers willy nilly. However I know that he lives in the area of my kids school which means I’ll probably run into him again sometime in the near future. My biggest concern is that when I see him again he’ll be either a) really disappointed that I had lied to him and honestly it would make me disappointed in myself for lying to him or b) that he would be angry with me and may possibly lash out, which is incredibly undesirable (I don’t know the complete nature of his conditions and medical history so I can’t be sure of how he would react). When I initially met him half of my instincts said he is just lonely and looking to make some friends while the other half of me said this could go very wrong, you don’t know this man and if he were to relapse or have an episode, you don’t have any training or knowledge of his full background in order to deal with that. Basically my question is, assuming I am going to meet this man again in the future, which instinct should I trust? Do you think it’s suitable to befriend him in a casual manner or should I try to keep my distance?

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.

It seems like there’s a whole lot going on in this situation, particularly with this man’s remarkably swift disclosure of his mental health history, doesn’t it? 

There isn’t, though. 

Here’s what happened: a total stranger cold-approached you on the street and told you he wanted to be friends with you, based almost entirely on the fact that, as far as either of you know, you’re both humans who live on earth. Now, you’re concocting elaborate future anxiety-schemes based on what he may or may not think about your ability to manage/handle any of the many and various manifestations of his mental illness, whatever they may be, if even they may be at all, about which you know nothing but somehow are already steeling yourself to potentially intervene in.

You have carved for yourself an impossible path. The good news is that taking this path is totally and completely unnecessary.

Because you don’t have to be friends with strangers who approach you on the street, even if they have a history of mental illness, even if they seem nice and lonely, even if they are your neighbors, even if [literally any reason besides “This person seems pretty cool, I’d like to get to know them better.”].

It’s possible that when you do not warm up to this man, he will be disappointed, or angry, or “lash out,” as you say. These things are possible, and they are possible irrespective of this man’s mental health history, about which you know almost nothing and which says nothing definitive whatsoever about his propensity toward violence. (It is worth nothing, here, that people who have mental illness are far more likely to be victims of violence than to perpetrate it.) But guess what? You still don’t have to be friends with this guy if you don’t want to.

What’s very likely, suspects the Bad Advisor, is that if you, LW, are a lady-type person, this guy not-wrongly ascertained that he’d be more likely to get a favorable-polite friendship response by approaching a strange woman than by striking it up with a strange man, for a variety of reasons that more or less boil down to “socialized gender norms and patriarchal bullshit,” but there you have it. You feel obligated, both out of your safety-Spidey-senses and your social-obligation-politeness-smile-friendly-sense, to do what this guy wants, lest you be perceived as rude, callous, or cold—all the while managing the rudeness—or perhaps social cluelessness—of a stranger for him. 

Free yourself from this perceived obligation! You may find the first Captain Awkward letter at this link instructive, inasmuch as it discusses how to advocate for oneself in social situations wherein sort of offending an aggressive-friender or hurting their feelings is more or less unavoidable. Become comfortable with phrases like “I don’t really give out my personal information,” or “I don’t have time to chat, but I hope the rest of your day goes well!”

And you know, keep the jury out if you want. Be pleasant enough if you see him around in the future, if you feel comfortable and safe doing so. Maybe he is a totally cool dude who, with a few more chit-chats, might be a nice person to know around the neighborhood but he’s just not the smoothest guy who ever lived. Also give yourself permission to walk away, stand on the other side of the street, tell him you’re too busy to chat, or give him a polite how-do-you-do without waiting for a response.

The thing about becoming friends with a rando is that you can’t be friends with them; you have to become friends. One conversation and a Facebook link-up isn’t going to do it. Rando friendship is about repeat interactions, getting to know someone in little bursts over a period of time. Neighborhood pubs, coffee shops and bodegas are good for this. Hanging out outside children’s schools approaching strangers, less so. But life’s a rich-ass pageant, after all.

anonymous asked:

So my boyfriend thinks I'm messing around on him because his last gf cheated on him. He tells me straight up he doesn't trust me and that he doesn't believe me when I reassure him I've done nothing wrong. I don't know what to do!

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.

Start with dumping his shitty ass and telling him to never contact you ever again, then blocking him on every available platform so that when he inevitably tries to shuffle his shitty ass back into your life you just straight up blank him like a boss. Then, I don’t know, learn to paint or some shit. It’s your life, do what you want.

anonymous asked:

I'm in love with somebody that doesn' love me back and I don't know how to deal with it

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.

Three things.

1. Watch this until your body literally runs out of tears.

2. Find new shit to do and think about.

3. To wit: go learn to paint or some shit.

anonymous asked:

Atire advice for a best friends sisters funeral tmrw. Don't wanna look like I'm going to a party. I'm16 btw. Would black skinny jeans be okay? Everything Black? Please help. From, Funeral First Timer in Michigan .

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.

The Bad Advisor reckons that black skinny jeans will be just fine. Probably this is a thing a lot of 16-year-olds would wear or be expected to wear to a funeral, and as long as you’re safely in the ‘shades of black/dark grey/navy blue/dark brown’ color palette no one will probably notice what you’re wearing anyway because it’s a funeral. (The Bad Advisor says “probably” because there’s always the potential for someone there to take it upon themselves to police what other people wear to a funeral, and maybe we will give that person leeway because of their grief even though they might be being a big assbag about it.)

That said: the Bad Advisor suggests making an effort to dress up said skinny jeans. Go with boots or oxfords instead of sneakers. Even if it’s hot as a scrote outside, wear a blazer or cardigan during/around the service. Don’t put a bunch of shit on your head (fedora / veiled hat / elaborate fascinator) because you want it to be playtime vintage retro funeral (you probably are smarter than to do this because you’re asking in the first place, but for the folks who need it, i.e. the Bad Advisor at age 16 would have needed this). If you wear jewelry or makeup of any kind … wear less of it than you might usually.

The Bad Advisor extends her condolences to you, your friend, and their family.

Oh, and carry a fuckload of kleenex, seriously, just load your shit up with kleenex. First-time funerals can be sort of scary, and being the person with a fuckload of kleenex is a thing you can do. 

anonymous asked:

Should I pursue a guy who maybe interested, but only slightly? I see him looking at me a lot, but I don't think I'm his first pick. I want to say something to him, but I don't know if it would be a waste of time. Also, it might be relevant that he only looks at me when he's alone. He ignores me when he's with his friends. Also I've asked him out for valentines day and he said no for blah blah reasons. Maybe that's still his answer? Then why does he keep looking? Can I tell him to stop? Pls answr

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.

This guy looks at you because he has eyes and sometimes you are in front of his eyes. He already told you he doesn’t want to go out with you, which means he doesn’t want to go out with you. He’s not sending you secret eye messages with his secret eye love lasers. Go ahead and tell him to stop looking at you.

(IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If this guy is looking at you in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable and is perhaps creepy, leering or stalkery—as opposed to looking at you because you’re literally the only person in the room with him and it’s making you feel sad and awkward because you like him—the Bad Advisor recommends documenting these creepy interactions and alerting a trusted friend, family member, counselor, teacher, professor or other person with know-how who can help you decide what actions to take next.)

In conclusion Bad Advisor recommends seeking partners who not only look at you, but who talk with you, hang out with you, and actively appear interested in your company regardless of who else, or whether anyone else, is present. Feel free to give this dude way less opportunities to look at you.