Mental health advocacy is booming online. But, in the age of misinformation, what happens when psychological jargon is misused? What impact does this have on interpersonal relationships?
I saw him from a distance. His beautiful face and physique drew me to him instantly. I could only describe it as godlike. I felt unworthy to be in his presence. His piercing eyes and height intimidated me, but his smile was warm and endearing.
My boyfriend says I’m cool because during Zoom meetings, I hike through the woods sporting my chestnut Ray-Ban sunglasses with the tops of the trees as my background. I don’t think much of it, other than that it’s my preferred environment. I like to move.
One year, nine months and twelve days. By the end of our relationship, I could tell I wasn’t what was best for her. I would ask myself, “what went wrong?” I knew I didn’t deserve her. She would always prove her love and loyalty to me, but I still couldn’t trust her.
After my dad left, my mom couldn’t listen to love songs, especially sad ones. One that always got to her was “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac, and for the longest time I couldn’t understand why. But I think I get it now.
What do you do when the person you love says that they don’t love you anymore? The girl who, by her own admission, said you treated her perfectly — that you made her so happy for a long time, but she just doesn’t have the same feeling now? You can’t really be mad, because nobody did anything wrong. You can’t fix anything because nothing is broken.
Sweet hummingbird, you are free — and so is he. Maybe there are days when you look at the beautiful artifacts of your love, cast in illusions. You observe the convictions immortalized on parchment, now lost to time. You observe them once more before you seal them into a box with a key — and then you don’t observe anymore. You set flight.
A long-distance relationship, by most people’s definitions, presupposes a lack of attachment and an inevitable end — especially when it comes to college, where people are trying to shed their old high school skin. To many, holding onto a lover from when you were in high school is bound to leave behind some old skin that could shed.
Despite its namesake, the herbivore man (草食(系)男子, translated literally to “Herbivorous man”) is not a vegetarian grazing through Japanese rice fields. Sociologist Maki Fukasawa coined the term in 2006 to describe males who had next to no interest in marriage or romantic relationships, but who are not asexual either.