Category: Uncategorized

Matrimony

MissM2 Comments

I’m fucking married, y’all.

Those of you who have been following me since this blog’s inception back in 2014 may find this news surprising (as I would have back then). After all, how did this hot-headed, distrusting, and tragically lonely college kid end up hitched to the love of her life?!

Love, I say. That, and a lot of hard-learned lessons, vulnerability, devotion, humility, and an unwavering desire to work on myself so that I can grow in tandem with this beautiful man (Therapy starts again on Tuesday!). I’ve never met such a compassionate, insightful, brilliant person before, so obviously I fell in love in an irreversible way. And I’ll keep falling for the rest of my days.

I wouldn’t say that I was “waiting on him” to marry me, BUT I’ve been prepared to take on this wifely role since January. He was ready in May, and here we are in November as official Mr. & Mrs. As you can imagine, this swift engagement did not allow for much planning, but we managed to arrange the PERFECT wedding in less than 2 months.

Our officiant, an honorable Dudist Priest (and dear friend), conducted the most intimate, tear-jerking ceremony that ever was and ever will be. We had 7 people in attendance (including our exceptional photographer), and the whole thing took less than 20 minutes. Heartfelt vows were exchanged, tears were shed, and “I do”s were said. It was truly the perfect day.

Though we were saddened to not have all of our people in attendance, this event left us with our cups overflowing and our wallets intact. And most importantly, it joined us together for the rest of forever.

We’ve lived together for 3ish years already, so much has changed on a day-to-day basis for us. “Wife” is a heavy title though, and it still takes my breath away when my husband introduces me as such. And it’s much easier to talk futuristically and picture us grey and wrinkled as we sit on our wraparound porch, reminiscing on the countless memories we’ve made.

I can no longer deny the existence of soulmates, as I’ve found mine. I am still in awe of how much our dreams, goals, values, and desires align. Being remote workers, we spend nearly every waking hour together and rarely get annoyed of each other long enough to spend more than an hour or so apart. One could call it codependence, but one could also shut up about it.

Don’t tell me that the “honeymoon phase” will end one day. Maybe yours did because you married the wrong one or rushed it or had kids or something. None of that applies to us.

Marrying him was easily the best decision I’ve ever made.

-M.

Erudition

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Growing up in the LDS faith, I was always taught that having a firm testimony was paramount to my salvation. I was taught that the mormons have the complete Truth, and that god only gave the other religions a snippet of it. Having shed that value system, I have since realized that proclaiming to know ANYTHING about the divine is not only ignorant, but inhibitory to spiritual growth. Why would I continue to search for capital T “Truth” if I have convinced myself that I already have it?

My curiosity for theology is insatiable. Thanks to podcasts, books, and loved ones of beautifully diverse backgrounds, I have gained insight from studying faiths from all parts of the globe, and have obtained value from each of them (yes, even Christianity, despite their notoriously violent and abusive history).

As I embarked on my path to spiritual healing after leaving Mormonism, I discovered the Divine Feminine, and how many Eastern and indigenous cultures revere and worship goddesses. In these contexts, femininity is revered in conjunction with the masculine. This type of worship has been sorely missing from my life, as I’ve never once related to all of the typical dude prophets we find in western scripture. I also think it’s a bold assumption that god is a male, or even has a gender to begin with.

I have also learned that there are several modalities for Sacrament. I’ve experienced the power of plant medicine, and have achieved mental states that can only be described as ethereal. These experiences have helped me dive deep into my own consciousness and have empowered me to pursue Truth within myself. They have also connected me intimately with Mother Nature in reverence.

Then there are contemporary spiritual leaders such as Ram Dass, who have taught me to separate the “me” from the “I,” and become the witness of my own emotions and how I react to experiences. This practice has helped me keep trying times into perspective, and to not identify with the negativity that tumultuous events can bring.

I could type all day about the things I’ve learned and will continue to seek out as I search for Truth and meaning, but I’ll get to the point now. The knowledge that I’ve acquired and pieced together is uniquely mine. Who knows if there’s a god out there somewhere who dictates scripture and triages the dead into whatever degree of glory they earned? Will he withhold my heavenly dwelling from me because my eggs aren’t in one basket? If so, I’m not interested in heaven.

You won’t find me in church. I won’t give precious hours of my time to sit in pews and have gatekeepers of Truth tell me how to interpret my spiritual experiences. I commune directly with the Divine, and the intuition provided to me by my maker is the only guide I need.

In closing, I’d like to bare my testimony. I don’t know that any church is true. I don’t know if there’s a god, to what extent she or he is involved in my life, or whether there’s a warm welcome waiting for me on the other side. I am dedicated to continuously seeking out Truth, regardless of where it comes from. I am committed to not committing to any one dogma, and to actively exploring as many schools of thought as I can. I know that I’m entitled to establishing an eclectic ideology of my own, and that it will ALWAYS be subject to change. I believe that no religion has (or ever will) monopolize Truth. In the name of personal revelation, amen.

–M.

Schismatical

MissM3 Comments

An aunt of mine recently decided to run for a position on the Board of Education in the district that I grew up in, and that’s as specific as I’m going to get as it pertains to her identity. I would like to preface this post by saying that I find her platform shameful and embarrassing, and have chosen to avoid any and all affiliations with her in the future.

The district in which she is running for is sleepy, overwhelmingly white, and riddled with Mormon constituents. The closed-minded nature of this population makes a point of asserting its superiority and has a habit of excluding those who probably wouldn’t be accepted into the heaven that Joseph Smith planted in their heads (i.e. LGBT+ individuals, people who have tattoos, coffee fans, and yes-some even still subscribe to the notion that god won’t let people of color into his posthumous Sky Club). “Trump 2024” signs are far from uncommon. You get the point.

Some teachers have taken it upon themselves to build a safe and inclusive environment for all students despite this less-than-tolerant atmosphere. Not under my aunt’s watch. A few days ago, a photo began circulating around the bored housewife Facebook sphere of signs that teachers had posted in the hallway that indicate their pronouns:

In response, one of my aunt’s “platforms” was to call her constituents to action to pressure the teachers into taking their signs down by arguing that these signs are indoctrinating students into “woke culture,” and therefore must be eradicated. These folks flooded the principal’s inbox and left call after call with the school’s administration. Some even went as far as to threaten the teachers directly into compliance. And to no one’s surprise, it worked.

All of my aunt’s children (and all of her affiliates) are cis-gender and straight, so I can imagine that this is an issue that she simply won’t relate to (and refuses to sympathize with). We’re all familiar with the term “separation of Church and State,” but history has proven that this has never been the case in our “democracy.” My aunt is entitled to subscribe to whatever religious dogma she chooses, no matter how preposterous. However, she cannot impose those views on all of the students that reside within her district. The message that she is sending to the students of my alma mater is that kids whose identities do not carry the label of male or female do not deserve to be validated in their search for an authentic identity while they’re at school.

The simple signs posted in the hallways of my junior high school would likely have been an effective tool in promoting a safe and inclusive environment for students who are beginning to explore their identities and grow into themselves. Oftentimes, these kids don’t have an adult in their lives that they can trust to support them through the turmoils of puberty and development. Perhaps they can find one in a teacher who cares.

The argument that these signs are “indoctrinating our youth,” as my auntie would tell us, is utter bullshit. You wanna talk indoctrination? How about baptizing your 8-year-olds into a toxic religion that they can’t even comprehend well enough to understand the commitment you’re forcing upon them? How about insisting that the world is only 6,000 years old, despite the heap of archeological evidence that proves otherwise? How about spreading the toxic proposition that god will not embrace certain individuals in the afterlife if they are gay or non-white or identify with a pronoun that doesn’t align with their biological sex?

TLDR: If you’re going to run for a position on the Board of Education, you’d best be educated. Perpetrating this tone-deaf nonsense will only contribute to increased divisiveness in a climate that is already on the brink of civil unrest. Stop wasting time and effort on things that frankly have nothing to do with education. You live in the country with the highest rate of school shootings, for god’s sake. Kids are going to school hungry because they can’t afford lunch. Teachers are receiving poverty wages. The curriculum is severely lacking, and leaving graduates with little to no preparation for the Real World. Oh, and we’re ranked 27th WORLDWIDE in education, and declining. Develop a platform that will solve actual issues, or go find a new hobby.

Thank you to all of the teachers that courageously posted these signs. I hope you continue to promote a healthy environment for ALL of your students to flourish.

-M.

Guest Post

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I get it-you’re all sick of metaphorically hearing my whiny voice. So I’ve decided to start doing some research on others’ viewpoints on topics that interest me, and share their responses with you. I am fortunate enough to know many diverse people from various backgrounds, so finding content was a snitch.

My first guest author is a young woman whom I’ve come to know, respect, and love as we endured our teens and early adulthood together. Without further ado, I now present her take on the YW program. Take it away, Sam.

Cognitive Dissonance

How was my experience in the Mormon Young Women’s program? Thanks for asking.

To a budding pre-pubescent, the prospect of joining older girls in Young Women’s at the age of 12 made the misery of sharing Primary class with the 7-11 year olds…bearable. Once you reached that fortuitous age of 12, a few of the Young Women would sit in the back of Primary class until “announcements”, wherein the Primary leader would announce that this was, indeed, your time for that coveted rite of passage. BOOYAH.

I remember heaving nervous breaths through my A-cup chest (I’m still an A-cup, so that’s the only thing that never changed through puberty. Damn it.) I finally got to sit in the same room as 15, 16, even 17 year olds! My sister was already in the program, and I was more than ready to join the big leagues.

At the beginning of every Young Women’s meeting, we would simultaneously recite the Young Women’s Theme.

“WE ARE DAUGHTERS of our Heavenly Father, who loves us, and we love Him. WE WILL “STAND as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places” (Mosiah 18:9) as we strive to live the Young Women values, which are:

Faith • Divine Nature • Individual Worth • Knowledge • Choice and Accountability • Good Works • Integrity • and Virtue

WE BELIEVE as we come to accept and act upon these values, WE WILL BE PREPARED to strengthen home and family, make and keep sacred covenants, receive the ordinances of the temple, and enjoy the blessings of exaltation.”

(Virtue hadn’t been tacked on the end of the values until I was 14, so that was a pretty exciting change-up).

Basically, the first two or three years are bliss. You’re surrounded by peers, taught by beautiful women of God, and conditioned to giggle, flirt, and regurgitate sexist language verbatim. But then…the boys start getting cuter. You start your period. You are exposed to a greater pool of friends in school.

And…you start to pay attention to the words you are reciting.

“Strengthen home and family? Sacred covenants? What sacred covenants? What even is ‘divine nature’”?

Then, you hear the boys recite their theme:

“The purposes of the Aaronic Priesthood: become converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ and live its teachings. Serve faithfully in priesthood callings and fulfill the responsibilities of priesthood offices. Givemeaningful service. Prepare and live worthy to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and temple ordinances. Prepare to serve an honorable full-time mission. Obtain as much education as possible. Prepare to become a worthy husband and father. Give proper respect to women, girls, and children.”

It doesn’t take a genius to see the reinforcement of traditional gender roles here.

Women: be a shining beacon of virtue and divinity. Be the kind of woman who supports your man in the home!

Men: don’t be a dick to women. Take the role of leadership in the home (priesthood). Get an education.

I’m not opposed to gender roles, but the roles of each gender in the church should not be predetermined by a panel of older men (the General Authorities). They are between the two partners. Girls shouldn’t be taught at a young age that they are meant to be the family support. Men shouldn’t be taught that they are to be the provider of the home, regardless.

And that was my experience in Young Women’s. Constant reinforcement of gender roles. We would be decorating scripture bags while the boys would be playing basketball in the gym, or mowing people’s lawns. For summer camping, we would stay in a condo while the boys would embark on a 5 day high-adventure trip into the mountains.

What upset me is that most of the girls bought into it! When I would help put away tables, people would chastise me for doing “boys’ work”. The boys were always required to clean put away chairs while we had the first go at the dessert (which was awesome, but totally not fair to them). I always felt very isolated with my blunt, “masculine” personality. The things I was told…I couldn’t believe it. They told me it was okay to be educated, but I was ultimately to support my husband’s Priesthood authority. I was to raise the kids in the light of the Gospel and be an example of chastity and virtue.

My initial aversion to the church wasn’t even an aversion to the Gospel itself. It was an aversion to the attitude of the Young Women’s program, and the expectations to which I was held.

If any Young Women are reading this right now, I ask you this: are you completely satisfied with the role that is required of you in life by the Mormon Church?

Interested in becoming a guest author at DownWithTheNorm? Head on over to the Contact Me page and fill out the form with your article and a quick bio so the rest of us can absorb your wisdom and insight. 

M.

Intrepid

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I felt a little less solitary in my stout feminist endeavors this past Sabbath.

There I was, sitting in Relief Society, listening intently to our lesson on Marriage and Delighting In Homemaking, which, as you can probably infer, is a topic that tosses me into a tornado of fury.

The lesson was going about as i’d expect it to, and I did my best to focus on my breathing so as to not loose my tongue. My attentiveness decreased as the lesson carried on, until one sister raised her hand.

“I’m a feminist, in the best way, I promise,” a shaky voice proclaimed, as my eyes searched anxiously for the source. *cue giggles of discomfort from surrounding sisters.*

“…and I really struggle with the topic of homemaking and motherhood,” she admitted.

Tada! My faith in my own generation had gained some much-needed restoration.

She continued on to tell us how she’d finally made peace with her beliefs in Feminism and her religion’s traditional family values, which, after much contemplation, I’ve decided to discard, although I am thrilled for her for having found a way to settle her internal conflicting beliefs, something that i’ve spent the better part of my post-high school years attempting to do, but to no avail.

But i’m no quitter.

Anyway, I truly admire this sister for her courage in not only proclaiming her feminism in front of a conservative group of Relief Society sisters, but also for admitting that she struggles with the topic we had been discussing. What bravery it must have taken her to make such a strong statement, regardless of the fact that the majority probably wouldn’t agree with her.

I’ve yet to muster up the courage to express my beliefs so strongly in a face-to-face situation. For the time being, I will hide behind my keyboard and express my beliefs via the written word. But hey, I’m working on it.

Thank you, publicly proclaimed feminist in my ward, for being brave enough to speak up. You’ve inspired me to not give up hope, and to speak up. Maybe my comments will inspire somebody else someday. That’s how change happens, slowly but steadily.

M.

Adjudication

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“M, how do you feel about the SCOTUS ruling of nationwide legalization of same-sex marriage?” none of you are probably wondering.

My short answer can be summed up by an excerpt the lyrical masterpiece that is “Same Love” by Sir Macklemore.

“Damn right, I support it.”

My long answer is more for me to put my feelings down so they can take a break from zooming around my cranium for a bit. Also, i’m not here to offend anybody or engage in any type of argument, so if you’re looking for that type of thing, jump on your Facebook home feed and comment on the first rainbow post you see.

The reason I support the legalization of same-sex marriages is because I feel that the message that anti-same-sex marriage folks are sending is that that the feelings that same-sex couples have for each other are somehow less valid or less significant than a straight couples’, thus not deserving of the same marriage rights as a straight couple.

Now, I am heterosexual, so I cannot speak for anyone who is homosexual, but I just don’t see how there was ever a ruling to be made in the first place. It frustrates me that there is any kind of discrimination in the first place, even if it has been resolved decades before i was born. I just don’t see anyone (or anyone’s marital union, for that matter) as lesser than anyone else’s.

I know that people against same-sex marriage are against it because it ‘offends the traditional family,’ but guys, legalizing gay marriage does not devalue, de-legalize, or harm straight marriage in any way. We’re just getting progressively closer to treating all humans as equals, so calm down and keep believing whatever it is you do, and realize that regardless of which side you’re on, same-sex marriage is now legal in every state in the U.S.

This is a hot topic in my family, as we have members that are strongly for the ruling, and members that are strongly against the ruling, and the drama is better than the Kardashians, to be honest. What i’d like to say to them (if I had the balls) is that because all parties involved are heterosexual, this ruling does not affect any of us in any way, so any type of arguing, both for and against, is completely redundant and irrelevant.

So let’s celebrate! Because a marginalized group of our society has become a smidge less marginalized, and that is always cause for celebration. How exciting is it, that we are here for such a significant point in our nation’s history?

M.

Unveiled

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The Summer season is excruciatingly stressful for me, despite my lack of academic engagement, for one reason and one only: Swimsuits.

This past Saturday was the debut of my summer body, and it was nerve-wracking. I shimmied into my high-waisted, Marilyn Monroe-style bathing suit, sucked my gut as close to my spine as I could, and forced myself to take a peek in the mirror.

That peek turned into a 15-minute inspection, and, as always, I did not measure up to my self-imposed expectations. I had been attending the gym for an hour and a half EVERY DAY since school got out. My diet consisted of purely fruits and vegetables and an occasional square of dark chocolate, and yet, despite all of this effort, there I stood, desperately trying to gather the courage to emerge from my bedroom in my bathing suit.

Before the tears of frustration were allowed to flow down my freshly-sunscreened face, I ripped myself from my own merciless gaze, grabbed my beach towel, and left my bedroom.

I timidly rushed down the stairs, acutely aware of my thighs jiggling with every step. Before heading out the door to head to my community swimming pool, I bumped into my sister. She looked me up and down, sighed, and said, “you look good.”

“You look good.”

Guys. You have no idea how much influence that subtle, simple comment had on my self esteem that day. I was actually able to enjoy getting slightly sun burned as I draped myself over a pool chair. I wasn’t worried about what other people were thinking about my pasty white, chubby thighs. I wasn’t worried about much at all, actually. I think I might have even been relaxing.

You see, what I realized that day was that not everybody is looking at me. Not everybody is scrutinizing my body and tearing me apart with rude comments about how I should lay off the cheese puffs or do more squats. Odds are, i’m the only one doing that. Most people are just there to swim.

No, I’m not saying I’m finally and suddenly comfortable in my own skin. I’m not saying I will no longer poke at my stomach, cursing myself for not having washboard abs. Because who cares if there’s some extra flab on my tummy when there are ice cream cones to be eaten and vacations to go on and barbecues to attend? What i’m saying is i’m no longer going to let it interfere with my ability to go and do fun things and enjoy them.

So from now on, i’m just here to swim.

M.

No Prorogation

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Today was YSA Stake Conference, which is when a large congregation made of sub-congregations meets to hear their regional and general leaders speak.

My solitary self arrived fifteen minutes early as instructed, and already, the parking lot and a quarter mile of the roads in either direction of the stake center were filled with cars.

I rushed into the chapel and chose a seat almost to the very back of the overflow, actively avoiding eye contact with others, and praying that i’d be left to sit alone for the duration of the meeting. Due to the overwhelmingly large number of attendees, we were all forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder in order to accommodate everyone.

So there I was, sitting on a fold-up chair next to a red-headed gentleman in a sports coat with above-average singing capabilities, who probably came by himself, too.

To my delight, we avoided each other perfectly.

The fun thing about YSA anything is that the main goal is to get us all hitched. YSA Stake Conference is no exception. Our first speaker was our stake president, a man whom I love and respect. He counseled us to pray to find an eternal companion, and to not delay marriage. He then continued to emphasize that our biggest and most important decision in life is whom we choose to marry, which I agree with (if we decide to marry.)

This counsel seems contradictory to me for a couple of reasons. First off, if marriage is the most important decision we make in this life, why are we being told to rush it? Isn’t the universal advice to “sleep on it” when faced with big decisions?

Secondly, getting married complicates educational and career goals, especially for women in a lot of cases. My mom (whom i’d been texting throughout the meeting) told me that a woman in her ward told the story of how she’d achieved her dream of getting into medial school, but then she got engaged and gave it all up to raise a family. It breaks my heart to hear stories like this, because I don’t see why a person can’t pursue the career of their dreams and raise a family.

I do believe that it can be done, if timed and prioritized correctly.

This is not to say that I think that those who chose to get married young are wrong in doing so. We’re all individuals, and different circumstances yield different decisions.

I’ve been twenty for three days now, and at this stage in my life, I can’t imagine rushing much of anything, much less decisions of whom I choose to spend the rest of eternity with.

Hmmm.

M.

Lessons Learned At A Coffee Shop

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I am notorious for my ability to hold in my grievances when I am physically interacting with someone, and then letting my frustration consume me until I am around my kin, whom I feel comfortable ranting my pants off to. Somebody will offend or frustrate me, and in the heat of the moment, I brush it off or even agree with the perpetrator, meanwhile, a flurry of anger swirls within my little self.

Today, my mom and I went for coffee because we are addicts. Also because the best of conversations are had over coffee, and it was raining. My mom left her phone in the car, so we were free of distractions. I saw this as an opportune moment to release some of the anger i’d been stewing over for the past few days regarding someone who shalt not be named because this is the World Wide Web, and I feel like I should probably grow up and address these specific issues with this person in a face-to-face manner like grown-ups are supposed to do.

Anyway, there we were, drinking our overpriced lattes, and me complaining about aforementioned grievances between sips. After about seven minutes of this, I was just getting started, and my mom had that “problem solver” look on her face as I spoke.

Once I finally shut my mouth for a moment, my mother’s parental advising began.

I don’t know how you guys feel about your mamas, but I can say with absolute certainty that my mom is badass and super wise and I need her bad.

First of all, my mom made it blatantly clear that my complaints were in vain. She told me that I am in control of this situation, and that if I can’t express how I feel to this individual, that I have nobody to blame but myself. Then, because I am an anxiety freak who thinks she needs to have everything figured out right now, or kill herself working towards what she thinks she wants, my mom told me to just enjoy.

Now, these little nuggets of advice might seem simple and completely obvious, and perhaps they are, but to me, they are profound words of wisdom. She is absolutely right-I am in complete control of how I allow this situation to affect me. I have a couple of options here: 1) Remove myself from the source of the frustrations or 2) Express my grievances to this individual and see how things go from there. If they don’t go the way I need them to, I resort to option 1 by default.

Mama Tingey solves another one.

I want to dwell a little longer on my mom’s second piece of advice. “Just Enjoy.” My mom may or may not be going through a bit of a crisis right now, but she revealed to me today her plan to get a tattoo on her ankle. (We come from an LDS background, this is a BIG deal.)

She said getting a tattoo is something she’s always wanted to do. That’s the thing, if you don’t actually DO the things you want to do, you will never do them. Duh?

This all may seem a little jumbled, but I couldn’t help but think about my own life. In my previous post, I complained (haha surprise!) about how everyone else was out doing things and living their lives while I remained stagnant. But in reality, the only difference between them and me is the fact that they are out doing the things they want to do, and I am making excuses as to why I cannot do the things I want to do.

My mom is right, as per usual. I am young, things are flexible, and I should just enjoy. I can’t keep on going through life doing only things I tell myself I HAVE to do. I just need to swallow the world’s biggest chill pill and just enjoy.

M.

Cyber Courtship

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Alright humans, we need to have a talk.

Have you heard of Yik Yak? Maybe it’s a very well-known app, and i’m just behind the times as per usual, but it has been installed on my SmartPhone as of recently. I love it. It’s like, you can post anything you freaking want to, and every Yik Yaker in your area can see it without having a clue as to who the author is.

This app can be used for good, or it can be used for evil. For the most part, the newsfeed consists of humorous, slightly embarrassing entries. But, as with most things, there’s gotta be a couple of assholes who ruin it for everyone.

I’ve noticed a lot of posts on the Yak from young men (assumption) complaining about girls catfishing them on online dating sites, i.e. Tinder. One of the posts was complaining about girls that look “thick” or whatever terminology the kids are using these days, but in real life they’re just fat. I dunno, a lot of really fat-shaming comments were made in response, which was completely problematic on its own, but it got me thinking about this whole catfishing and online dating business.

So, we have social networking platforms that enable us to share everything from photos of our food to photos of ours and others’ faces with our dear friends, enemies, and strangers from Ethiopia of whom we’ve never met before, but accepted their friend requests anyway to be polite. (Guilty as charged.)

It’s no secret that basically anything posted on the World Wide Web can be viewed by anyone with access to it. Because of this, we tend to shed ourselves in the best light possible, because let’s face it, at one point or another, someone is going to see something we’ve posted on our personal pages, and it will change their opinions of us forever.

This applies especially to dating or “hook-up” apps such as Tinder. The intended use of these apps is to find an attractive being to date or make out with or whatever activities you guys do when you meet up with a Match from Tinder. I don’t wanna know.

With the objective of making oneself attractive to others, it would only make sense that we post only the best photos of ourselves, complete with the best filters that Instagram has to offer. That’s not just us ladies, I know dudes be using that Sepia as well. And yes, editing photos enables us to present ourselves in completely unrealistic ways.

Back to the catfishing, I don’t think that enhancing one’s profile photos is considered catfishing. People on dating websites should be going into these accounts with the knowledge that the information presented on anyone’s profile is a reflection of them on their very best days, plus or minus a filter.

So stop getting upset when the individual you are meeting up with from these sites doesn’t look quite like his/her photos. That would be an unrealistic expectation.

Actually, y’know what, scratch everything I just said. My real advice to you would be to get yourself off the computer and go meet some people face-to-face so that you can avoid the whole catfishing problem all together.

Swipe right!

M.