My days of poking fun at “bros” have officially come back to haunt me. In the time of the basic bitch, I find myself in what many may consider a troubling situation: I, myself, am basic.
I don a power headset on conference calls while doodling hearts in my notebook. I often imagine myself running the world like Beyonce. I spent 2 months asking for opinions on whether or not I should get bangs, and then complained for a year on social media as they slowly grew out. My AIM profile once said, “Maybe our girlfriends are our soul mates, and guys are just people to have fun with.” – Carrie Bradshaw. I could live on hummus and baby carrots. I write self-centered blog posts. On Wednesdays, I wear pink.
When this realization first hit, I felt ashamed. All of my years attempting to be unique have…
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