All a Girl Really Wants

“All a girl really wants is for one guy to prove to her that they are not all the same” -Marilyn Monroe.

All a girl really wants is a boy who will send her goodnight/good morning texts, buy her roses, snuggle in bed with her on rainy days, hug her from behind, take pictures with her and post them on Instagram, buy her teddy bears and chocolates, stay up late at night with her and talk about life, lend her his hoodie with his scent all over it, slow dance under the stars with her, bring her Chinese food when she’s sad, and tell her he loves every day.

All a girl REALLY wants is this elusive, outside form of happiness dressed in faded jeans and graphic tees and maybe even a cute, snuggly flannel who will suddenly show up in her life like a tousle-haired Prince Charming with roses and chocolates and all the answers—a boy who will give her meaning and a reason for existence and finally make everything in her life worthwhile.

REALITY CHECK: He doesn’t exist. And, even if he does, you can still do better.

Trust me.

Every time I sign on Pinterest or Twitter or Facebook I see posts like this:

It doesn’t matter who you follow on social media sites. Unless you live in a cave, I’d be willing to bet my bottom dollar (even my last ice cream cone) that you’ve seen—or even posted—something like this.

Hell, you probably saw one last night when you checked Twitter before falling asleep. I know I did, and I cringed just like I do every time I see these lists.

It’s not at all that I’m against relationships or that I’m bitter that I’ve been single for a long time. And it’s certainly not that I think girls are undeserving of flowers or hugs or deep conversations. All of those things are lovely. No one can deny it.

But what I am against is girls thinking that the only way they will ever be happy and feel like their lives have purpose is if some boy comes along, spoils them, and saves them from some falsely attributed sense of unhappiness.

Ladies, it’s time to wake up.

You are not a damsel in distress.

It’s problematic to think that a boy is going to save you.

He is not the answer. He is not the place. He is not the light.

This has gone on far too long. This mentality has got to go.

When we post lists like these on social media, we convince not only ourselves but also others that we are incapable of manifesting the happiness that already exists within ourselves. Rather, we give that power to someone else—to some outside factor we have no control over—to make us happy.

But here’s the thing: Contrary to popular belief, happiness doesn’t come bearing flowers. It doesn’t sweep you off your feet at midnight and take you for long walks on the beach. It doesn’t cuddle with you on rainy days or buy you nice things. And it doesn’t look like a boy.

Happiness is not a boy.

It’s problematic to think that way, and it’s about time we stop investing power in someone else when it comes to our own sense of happiness and self worth.

A few weeks ago, I went out for ice cream with a boy. While we indulged in waffle cones he asked me, “What makes you happy?”

I couldn’t help but smile as I told him about my affinity for making ice cream and whoopie pies and chocolate chip banana bread, writing poetry and essays and short stories, sitting by the river as the sun goes down, curling up in bed on a Saturday night and reading Kerouac, and playing a round of golf on a beautiful summer’s day (among many, many other things).

As I spoke, I could feel my eyes lighting up and my heart filling with joy, not because this boy actually cared enough to listen to me blabber on for five minutes about everything I love most in my life (although he is pretty cool), but more so because ice cream and Kerouac and sunsets by the river really do make me happy.

So happy.

A few years ago, if someone had asked me what makes me happy, I probably would have immediately thought about the boy who gave me rides home from school and told me to come over when his parents weren’t home and kissed me in the basement while we watched movies neither of us ever actually intended to watch. Ice cream and Kerouac and sunsets by the river would have come after the boy (if they even crossed my mind at all).

It took me a long time to realize that someone else doesn’t hold the key to my happiness. It didn’t happen overnight. And I don’t expect it to happen overnight for you, either.

But once I stopped searching for happiness in the form of a boy and started asking myself what really makes me happy, my life changed for the better.

This summer, I capriciously bought an ice cream maker and taught myself how to make the most delicious cookie dough ice cream I’ve ever tasted because, for whatever reason, ice cream genuinely makes me happy. Soon cookie dough turned into peanut butter brownie batter and s’mores and maple walnut and before I knew it, I had my own ice cream business that not only brought myself immense joy, but also fattened up my friends and put smiles on their faces. This winter, I’m off to ice cream school to learn the craft from the best in the business. I can’t wait.

I stopped going out on Saturday nights just because my friends were going out and I thought I might meet a cute guy. Instead, I started reading everything from Kerouac and Vonnegut and Wilder to Plath and Miller and Stephen King because, for whatever reason, reading genuinely makes me happy. The more I read, the more I fell in love with stories. The more I fell in love with stories, the more I started writing stories of my own. The more I started writing, the happier I became.

And I started going for runs every evening and ending up at a dock where I could sit by the river and watch the sun go down because, for whatever reason, watching the sunset as the river flows beneath me genuinely makes me happy. It allows me to meditate and unwind and find clarity when I have a million things on my mind and my to do list seems to be growing exponentially. It brings me peace.

Over the past two years especially, I’ve learned how to manifest the happiness that has always existed within myself. I never needed someone else to draw it out of me; I just needed to look within and find those things that make me come alive.

And you can, too.

I think you’ll find that when you spend some time soul searching and begin to do things that genuinely make you happy—even if they might not make sense to other people—your life will change immensely. You’ll feel lighter. You’ll emanate joy. You’ll realize that you’re consistently showing the world the truest, most beautiful version of yourself.

My brother is one of the wisest people I know. For years, he’s been telling me to pay attention to what I’m putting into the universe.

You attract what you put out, Al.

I hope he knows I’ve never, ever forgotten that line. I never will. It’s written on a post-it note on the wall behind my desk, on the front page of my journal, on a crumpled piece of paper that I slip into my pocket every morning. I carry it around with me everywhere I go to remind myself that the world will reciprocate my thoughts and my actions.

And, that being the case, why would I ever want to be anybody but the best version of Ali I can possibly be? Why would I ever want to be anything but happy? Because if I give the truest, most beautiful version of myself to the world—if I emanate joy wherever I go—I’ll attract even more happiness into my life.

That excess happiness may even be in the form of a boy someday. There’s nothing wrong with that.

When you get to the point at which you’ve discovered what makes you come alive and you’ve manifested the happiness that has always existed within yourself, you don’t give away that power to someone else. Then, when things don’t go as planned and the relationship—though likely great at the time—comes to an end, you still have your happiness. You still have your power. You still have yourself.

And, really, what more could you ask for?

See, despite these lists I see every night on Twitter and Pinterest and Facebook, I refuse to believe that all a girl really wants is a boy who will spoil her.

I do, however, believe this: All a girl really wants is happiness.

She just hasn’t realized yet that happiness doesn’t come from good morning texts and teddy bears and chocolates from a boy whose greatest aspiration is to spoil her.

It never has, and it never will.

Happiness exists within you—somewhere deep down, beneath the makeup and the coiffed hair, beneath the posts on social media about what you think you want in a guy, beneath the fallacy that you need someone else to spoil you and make you feel like you matter.

You matter.

You have always been the answer.

You have always been the place.

You have always been the light.

Look within.