Adult Swag

I graduated from college (hence the brief hiatus as I celebrated/mourned the cross into adulthood). Hoorah, yay, oh happy day, and all of that jazz.

Being an adult (whatever that means) is both a state of mind and a state of circumstances. So, I’ve decided to pretty much fake it until I make it. And, I decided to start by dressing the part.

Example: Yesterday, I stood in the dressing room with three dresses for my going away dinner coming up this week.

  • Dress #1: Hot pink. Short. Tight.
  • Dress #2: Multi-colored dress with cool patterns. Not tight.
  • Dress #3: Cheetah print. Short. Tight. Back out.

Dress #1 would’ve made the cut. It was hugging the right places and my booty was looking as Beyonce-ish as it possibly could. But, then, I thought to myself…here I am about to spend $25 dollars on a dress where my na na is basically hanging out. In a few weeks, when my CO-WORKERS (ahhh…that’s some frightening stuff) want to go out for drinks on some random weekend, I can’t wear that dress. They will think I’m a hooch! (And, quite frankly…I kind of would be.)

So, dress #2 was the solution.

We can’t grow up overnight and we shouldn’t have to. A lot of our childish and collegiate ways will stick with us for years to come. But, I think one of the ways we start telling the world we’re adults is by redefining what’s sexy. In college, it’s sexy to wear a tight dress with everything that God, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph gave you hanging out. In adult life…not so much. Leaving a little to the imagination is a bit classy.

And, we’ll all need that class to make up for the fact that we still consider a night out at Applebee’s to be a gourmet meal.

Love freely,


College Dating Crutches

In an effort to procrasinate from studying for a final that I have absolutely no interest in because I’m bound to get a B in Spanish, I stumbled upon “Sex and Dating Tips from Seniors to Freshmen.” This particular piece of advice stood out for me:

“It can be easy to get caught up in classes, extracurricular activities and partying, and most people forget that hooking up drunk at a party isn’t how normal people act. It can be good to go out on a date every once in a while, get dinner and see a movie your friends would make fun of you for seeing. After all, you’ll have to start dating after college, no use forgetting how to while you’re there.” - Travis Hanes, Salisbury University.

I need all of my seniors to throw in one big collective sigh. Please and thank you.

College is supposed to do a lot of things for us. Help us land a job, give us life long friends, all that jazz. College also cripples us in a lot of ways (i.e the panic attacks I’ve been having at the thought of waking up at 6am for work in a few weeks after having class at noon every day.) Apparently, one of the main ways a lot of us are crippled is in the world of dating.

The other day, my best friend and I had a brief conversation about our adult dating fate. “At least in college,” I told her, “people know you’re just looking to get laid.” And, it’s true. There’s usually a mutual understanding between two college-aged adults that they’re in it for one thing and there’s no need for the flowery extras. But, I’m not sure how it works for post-college adults. Now, of course, post-college adults are still mammals and they’re looking for one thing, too. But, after college, are we expected to be ready for full blown dating? (That question was very Carrie Bradshaw of me.)

Because I can pull the college card for a whole ‘nother 4 days, I’m going to say I don’t know. I can’t speak for what it is to be a real adult. I’m certainly not ready to trade in my irreverent approach to the opposite sex just yet, but maybe I can disguise it better as an adult?

Well, Travis Hanes of Salisbury University, I will agree with you on one thing: normal people don’t just get drunk at parties and hook up with people. I remember when my ex started working and he referenced one of his co workers as “that girl who always got effed up at parties in college.” It might be cool or funny to be that girl in college, but in adult life, it just comes across as sad and pathetic. So, perhaps we all should aim a wee bit higher in adult life. Just a wee bit. We may never be respectable and credible adults when it comes to dating, but the least we can do is fake it till we make it.

Love freely,


Unfinished Business

In one week, I’m going to don that oversized and overpriced cap and gown and walk across the stage into exhilirating (pronounced monotonous) adult life. As a result, I’ve been flooded with an array of emotions, one of which is reflective.

I’ve started thinking a lot about the idea of closure. Many times, people reunite with exes in hopes of getting “closure.” But, what the eff does that even mean?

Today, I got some closure of my own with a friend whom I may or may not have made a bad decision with. We sat down and talked our way through a situation that had absolutely no business happening and, at the end, I felt better because of it. I’m actually sad to say that if it weren’t for him prompting the situation, I would’ve just never contacted him again.

I realize, that’s often times my way of ending things. I just ignore, dodge, and avoid by any means necessary, hoping the person gets the hint sooner or later. I let time do the dirty work for me and I now see that is a true mark of immaturity. Of course, it’s easier to do that with someone whom you aren’t that close with but people do it all the time. It goes against everything I stand for as the girl who only listed “confrontational” on the ”tell us about yourself” section of my roommate form.

But, there’s something to be said for having the cojones to contact someone, whether it be an ex of 2 years or a hookup of 2 weeks, to wrap things up and leave things on a solid note. I think the issue is sometimes people mistaken closure with “What if” or “let’s try this again” and that’s when ish gets ugly. But, if you’re honest with yourself and with the person, closure is awesome and often times very necessary. Without true closure, resentment and unresolved issues just fester and you’re left having to find closure within yourself (cough my ex cough.)

But, when you go into something truly hoping to just clean it up and leave it in a good place, that’s when you’ve really made that cross into adulthood.

Love freely,


“Absolutely All Of It.”

Over the past 2 months or so, I’ve upped my nerd factor and have become an avid reader of Ellyn Spragins “What I Know Now” series. It’s because I’m all into inspirational shit now, hoping that absolutely anyone, from a novelist to my advisors to my dope ass comm professor, can dish out some last minute advice before I head into the big bad world.

Anyhoo, the premise of these books is that famous women write letters to their younger selves, now that they are grown up and know a thing or two about life.

Now, that my undergrad career is drawing to a close and I’m surrounded by graduation rhetoric, I think it’s only fitting to write a letter of my own. Usually, the letters begin with a bio of the person (you don’t need that from me, I’m not that cool) followed by giving some sort of context as to why they are writing to themselves at a particular age.

So, I’m opting to write to myself during the second semester of my freshman year of college, when I was convinced I was only average-looking and boys would never notice me. (Yes, I was once that pathetic.)

Dear Tyece,
You’ve traded in your pumps for plain colored t-shirts because you believe that’s what college kids wear. Without being adorned in matchy outfits everyday, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re just not that cute and getting attention from the opposite sex isn’t going to happen.
I’m sorry…what are you smoking?
I’m not going to tell you that you’re beautiful. Not going to tell you that your sharp tongue, quick wit, love for libraries, and Laker fandom are a good complement to the outside things God gave you that you have absolutley no control over. I’m not going to tell you those things because only over time, through highs and heartaches, will you come to realize this. Then, you’ll start to like yourself. And, then, with some hard work, you’ll love yourself.
And, so, around your sophomore year, when you start wearing 5 dollar aqua colored keds from Walmart and spraying something called “Very Sexy Hot” (which will become your favorite scent), that love you have for yourself will radiate. And, guys will take notice. You’ll make mistakes along the way and think too hard and long about situations that just don’t matter. You’ll fall in love with someone, convinced that you two are meant to be together forever, only to find out that your convictions were not quite on target. And, in a few years, when you’re a big bad senior, you’ll make a host of spontaneous and questionable decisions with men whose names you probably won’t recall in five years.
Do it. Absolutely all of it. And, if you could return and do it again, do it the exact same way.
Because every tear you’ll cry over someone who isn’t that important, every song you’ll put on repeat when someone fucks with your emotions, every conversation you have with someone whom you won’t care about in a week, every date you go on with someone who will break your heart, and every night you spend with someone who, the next morning, you’ll only half remember, will build you. These are the moments that will start to shape your views about love and how ridiculous, life-consuming, and wonderful it is. These are the moments that will teach you that people do not deserve judgment for their life choices because behind every one-night stand, there’s a genuine person who is a conglomeration of so many other important things. These are the moments you’ll relish, relive, and never want to relinquish.
You are so much more than average. I just can’t wait for the moment when you realize it. Don’t worry…it’s coming.
Love freely,

Somewhere, deep inside, I fear that I’ve lost the ability to get my emotions near to someone. Hoping my unwillingness to open up is a fear I’ll outrun. I’ve hidden my scars with the random nights, erasing the pain as I shut off the lights. I wonder when will I feel again? When will love be more than just thoughts that flow from my mind to my pen? I drown out the memories with meaningless sighs, obliterate the sadness with late night goodbyes…

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