At all, girl. Except for you.
Unless you are the queen of secret-keeping, we know you aren’t dating Idris Elba or Bradley Cooper or James Deen (and that spelling is intentional) — which means nobody but God and his mama are out here keeping tabs on your man. Your guy is probably a great person, but at the end of the day, really, sis, he’s just your goofy undergrad here for you to admire dreamily in an open Facebook tab while you plan your wedding with him in your Pinterest tab just a click away.
This isn’t all bad. Love is an incredible gift, and you deserve to be with someone you can celebrate and who celebrates you in turn. We’re happy for you, even though your favorite wedding dresses interrupt our sandwich and brownie and flavored vodka pins when we decide to use Pinterest ourselves. Really, we are. Go you. Listen to Beyoncé and rejoice.
No matter how bad you have it for this person, however, the passion of a thousand suns that burns for him in your heart needs to stay in your chest — not be declared on Twitter. I know you might think it’s cute — or fun if you’re especially delusional — to be that girl who goes Super Saiyan for her man on Twitter if he dares have contact with females who aren’t you, or who can’t be called his relatives. It’s not, babe. It never will be. You don’t want to be in real life Obsessed Girlfriend, because, like any obsession, when it sours, it does so spectacularly. Slight possessiveness is great, but remember your boyfriend is a person, and not your Social Security number. Relax, girl. Be like water. Remember, in general, life is better when it’s not your own hand pouring vinegar and baking soda into Mount Vesuvius.
Speaking of Twitter, social media should not be the Chemical X that keeps your inner 5-year-old girl knuckin’ and buckin’ and ready to fight. If you aren’t about that physical life, it’s best to keep your mouth shut and defer to God on all social decisions until you can control yourself emotionally. The minute you decide to get angry, you can go on Twitter, sure. You rant, and you libel, and you threaten assault and battery — but once you get out in public, girl, you are not a Powerpuff Girl. You do not have super powers, and you cannot fly off in a gamma ray of pink from some of these young ladies out here who can be every ounce of Mojo Jojo on both your body and your wig if you test them.
I’m just being honest.
Swallow some self-esteem, pat on some dignity, live above the pettiness and love and respect your man, if you have one — but most of all, love yourself.
Please.
Sierra Mannie is a junior classics major from Ridgeland.
