When did I hit the age that happiness was determined by the amount of numbers we got at bars or the amount of sex we were having? That guys suddenly think that an exchange of phone numbers and an invitation to "hang out" meant that within 4 hours of my arrival my clothes would be strewn across their floor and my naked body occupied in their bed?
It's now become okay to skip going on dates, holding conversations, and getting to know a person, and instead go right to the bedroom. And I can't take it.
I refuse to be another girl who gives into what anybody wants. My self-worth cannot be contained to one night of sex with some guy I hardly know.
And yet, respecting myself makes me almost unrespected by men. They don't understand it. They don't see that I'm not a prude, or waiting for marriage, or completely celibate. I'm just waiting for someone who will see that I am more than just a body, and I'm worth being treated as more than that.