I call a guy my boyfriend the second he texts me, like, once. And despite what modern society may have you believe, this is not “delusional,” or “crazy,” or “worthy of a restraining order,” it’s just a simple way to categorize the men in my life so that people will understand the general vibe of the relationship, without me sounding like a slut. What’s a guy who talks to you all the time, takes you on dates, pays for everything, and tosses you the D? A boyfriend. Duh. It has a nicer ring to it than “man I am using for attention, or sex, or both.” It’s not psychotic. I’m simply translating my love life to the masses. If anything, I’m just being considerate, actually. Knowing my audience, ya know?
The only problem with this is that I can’t just publicly call a guy “my boyfriend” and it has nothing to do with the fact that he did not agree — or even know — he became my boyfriend. It’s because I have more than one boyfriend. Some people might say this is kind of the same thing as having no boyfriend at all, but I say, those people better hope I don’t know where their car is in the parking lot, because I have a key that is itching to do some damage. Just kidding. I’m not crazy.
The solution to the multiple boyfriend paradox? Nicknames. Some girls might just use a guy’s real name when she’s telling her friends every excruciating detail of her love life. And some other girls might have healthy enough boundaries that she doesn’t need to describe the vein on his dick that’s the EXACT shape as Aries, the constellation, which is her sign, so like, it has to mean something, ya know? But those girls are not me. Not that I don’t have healthy boundaries, because I do. I just express them differently. Anyway “Tom” is not as easy to remember as Zodiac Boyfriend. And so, the nickname is born, and henceforth, will be used exclusively.
I’ve lived the majority of my life never using a guy’s real name. I’ve also lived the majority of my life single, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, men are like dogs, and you don’t want to give them a real name until you know you’re keeping them. A nickname is your own fun, little way of objectifying a man, and that sounds bad, but we’re all just out here using each other anyway, and it’s not tyrannical to say that out loud. 1.) because I’m not saying it out loud, I’m writing it down and 2.) feminism. As long as he’s his nickname, he’s not a real person — he’s just this symbol of dick and manliness that serves a purpose in your life — and he can’t hurt you if he’s not a real person.
Sometimes I go weeks before I even save a guy’s name in my phone. Sure, they never know the little mind games I’m secretly playing against no one but myself. And yeah, I still stalk them pretty regularly on every form of social media, so even if they’re not really in my phone, they’re still in my head. But still, this signals both to me and THE UNIVERSE (the energy of which is definitely focused on and swayed by the ongoings of my life — that’s not a symptom of narcissism, it’s just a fact) that I don’t care about them.
I’ll never use a guy’s real name around my friends, because that says he’s important. And frankly, they’re not important until they are..
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Veronica Ruckh
Veronica (@VeronicaRuckh) is the Director of Total Sorority Move for Grandex, Inc. After having spent her undergraduate years drinking $4 double LITs on a patio and drunk texting away potential suitors, she managed to graduate with an impressive GPA and an unimpressive engagement ring -- so unimpressive, in fact, some might say it's not there at all. Veronica has since been fulfilling her duties as "America's big," a title she gave to herself with the help of her giant ego. She has recently switched from vodka to wine on weekdays. Email her at [email protected]
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