normal people

there has never been one and it has never happened before. but recently, for reasons i do not understand, a question started to occur in conversation with my relatives. and unfortunately for me, the question sounds serious. so is there a guy or somebody new?
firstly, i have successfully ignored it as i would never think my parents were these kind of people, but under this corona times without love, it has been an issue to discuss.
so i started to wonder. not just about me. but about all of us women in general. not just now. but for a long time.
when these things are suppose to happen? and then my daily life goes in front of my eyes.

to have a steady job to pay my bills.
to actually do my job that i like, which is writing.
to run too many kms a week, because it is my kind of fun.
to read all the books i have not laid my eyes on yet. not to mention all the classics i am still missing to digest.
to learn a new language.
to travel as much as you can.
to keep up with culture and accurate news. and music! so much music to listen to.
to eat clean and to keep one clean. also pretty. cause you are a lady.
oh and yes, still, maybe one day again, be social.
try to sleep, perhaps.
and then we have zero waste, never-ending problem of eating meat, astrology and little bit of spirituality and have i mentioned music? so much of it.
and don't shop at fast fashion companies. only organic cotton. or you will be beaten to death by stones... that are also organic.
also, it would be nice to cook yourself a proper meal sometimes. just saying.
and have you seen the new series on netflix? no? what about HBO?
and yes, podcasts.
to basically be the most perfect version of yourself you can be under this world circumstances.
and yet, there is still the amount of hours we have. so cry me a river. something is missing in my calculations. it is called time management, probably. and obviously, a man.

so too many questions pop up in your head. so you lie in a bed. alone. at night. and your mind wonders. i am pretty sure i am not alone in this.

so is it really me? and if it is so. when and what went wrong? where exactly i stepped on a wrong path? AHA!

is it my hair? it is definitely not thick enough.
should i finish my master?
maybe i haven't traveled enough.
is my teeth white enough?
should i be more spiritual?
did i just put pink sock with my white clothes to the washing machine?
when the guy smiled at me today, was it because i was just disgusting on my run?
should i wash my hair less?
SHOULD I WASH MY HAIR MORE?
why is my ass so skinny and my belly too chubby?
should i tell less jokes?
was i too smart?
am i stupid?
does time exist?
is it my jokes?
is there a ghost in our apartment?
and it goes on, and on, and on, and on.

till you find yourself drunk as a skunk at some horrid pit of a pub in the middle of nowhere.
and there it goes. our friend self pity is back. the one thing you hate the most about all the men you have ever dated, becomes the prime of your days.
self pity, wine, insecurity, low self esteem, way too much ice-cream and in my case especially, no sleep whatsoever - becomes your daily bread, you best friends, your mantra, your buddies, and coworkers.

and there is more of them. but mainly, does a typical man have these problems? probably no. obviously, they have a woman to do it for them. (this jokes will cost me my carrier one day.)

so really, now, with clean blood and mind, i ask myself all the time. why do we always search for something wrong? what kind of torture is this and why would we still push this heavy burden on young girls and teach them to be nothing else, but perfect. nothing in between. and if they do not follow this, oh well, here goes trouble. no man for you once you become an adult.

there is a saying in czech: a fallen doe is the best victim. it truly took me plenty of time to soak this in. i think it takes time to truly be one. one whole person good enough for yourself. i also think we build our own prisons inside of our heard and one small, innocent question can generate incredible amount of hell. we are not born marathon runners, we do not even have to be one. we are just forced to think, you cannot exist without a medal on your chest.
and then you hate yourself some more, because you can probably be a good runner. and very likely, you are better runner than any kind of man you fancy. so you rather compete for greatness where nobody cares about it. and instead of understanding and compassion. you build competition instead of a relationship.
so in that lonesomeness, the winner stands alone. which is also a book.

but to sum this up, i would finish with another book. it is sally rooney's normal people. i have no idea why i waited so long for this book, but as i usually say, each books comes to your life exactly when you need it. the book is absolutely stunning and written in catchy way from two different points of view. female and male. and it is just painful to read it, how we people, can completely misunderstand each other just with one single word. how a simple sentence can be heard in complete opposite way than it was meant to be and you have a beautiful connection of people destroyed in a second.
so i guess that is it. communication is the key and do not let one single comment hurt your feelings without actually asking about feelings on the other side. and to finish this - Marianne, the main character of Sally Ronney's book, says - ''I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I can't be like normal people.'' cheers.

disclaimer: i feel little bit silly writing this, as this is not absolutely an article to blame or insult in any way men. this article is not suppose to be about men at all, this is just used as an example and very silly jokes on behalf of men, because this is how we rolling, babes.