Greetings my young friends! It's another one of my little advice columns. Yes, I've been reading through your lovely little letters, and pissing my panties at your poor spelling, atrocious grammar, and the frankly pathetic little problems you have. Only joking. Or am I? I'm here to set you young nitwits on the straight and narrow, because it seems that you've strayed onto some sort of whiny pathway that can only lead to bad music and bad alcohol. Yes, I was once like you, young and naive. I thought that love was the answer, and that by crying into my pillow because the person I thought I loved hadn't spoken to me for a week, I would feel better. But I never did. Then one day, I'd had enough, I booted life in the crotch and stood up for myself. Now I'm old and grey, and I can safely say that I never took shit from anyone, man, woman or mineral. The best friend I've ever had is my dog, Maurice. So let's stop being annoying, let's grin and bear it, because this whole "woe is me" shtick is getting on my tits. On with the show.
How does this work: You were asked if you had any problems, whether of the heart, the penis, the tits or any other organ that evolution gave you (don't start). I'd read them from the comfort of my armchair, and spit out whatever advice I'd deem necessary. I dictate my stuff to a young man from FML who is quite incompetent and who seems to trip over his own shadow, but you can't get decent staff these days so I'm stuck with him. I don't do one-to-one sessions, I don't have a couch or a notepad to listen to each and every one of you, you'll have to glean whatever information you can from each month's replies. Or go to one of those expensive therapists, who'll nod and go, "Hmmmm" while counting their money.
The therapist is the one with the pen, the patient is the one protecting his knob.
I've been reading your complaints. Someone asked how "young" I was. Are you an idiot? It's in my profile, or so I'm told. To write to me, you have to click on my profile, so it's written right there. Is this what it's come to, people asking me to give them answers which are already displayed on the FML website-thing? Just in case people are wondering, the moon isn't made of cheese and Elvis is dead. Anyway, let's get to it. Please remember that everyone featured on this page is a willing participant, and understood what they were getting into.
I'm just a John Lennon song
Our first question of the week is an anonymous one:
"Hey Aunt Bernie. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay anonymous. Anyways, I need some help. I am unbelievably jealous of my boyfriend, and I need to stop feeling this way. How do I just stop? Thanks."
Jealousy is so unhealthy. And ugly. It's the quickest way to make someone run for the hills. The poor guy has probably done nothing to deserve it, so chill out. The thing you have to remember about jealous people is that they only think that way because they're projecting onto other people what they themselves are capable of. For instance, if you think he's going to cheat on you, take a long hard look in the mirror. Trust is what you need. I'm not blaming you, maybe you've been hurt before, maybe you pick people who comfort your opinion of relationships. Maybe you're just jealous of his drumming abilities or his shoes, and I've misunderstood the question. How do you "just stop"? You can't. It's an insecurity issue. Love yourself more instead of worrying if he's loving someone else.
Dream Baby Dream
Zharks1010 needs to know more about getting parents to listen:
"Hey Auntie Bernie, I really want to become an author when I grow up, but my parents said that they won't accept me as their child if I don't go to medical school and become a doctor. Any help here? Thanks"
Parents are idiots. There, I said it. They all want the best for their kids, they really do, but they always screw their kids' heads up. I might have quoted the Philip Larkin poem before, but I'm going to quote it again:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
That said, not all dreams are meant to be followed. You might turn out to be a terrible author. But that's not for your parents to decide. It's less dangerous for you to become an author and be terrible, than for you to go to medical school and be a terrible doctor. At least when you're an author, the only people you can kill are fictional. So don't panic, wait til you're 18 and tell your parents where to stick their opinions. Write a book about them.
PeppermintPenny is in quandary:
"Hi aunt Bernie,
I have a huge crush on this guy who lives on the same floor as me. He's amazing. Tall, nice, talented, funny and really good looking. He plays guitar, sings, plays basketball and speaks like 4 different languages. The whole package. Meanwhile I barely have any hobbies or talents. I feel like I can't keep up. I've never even kissed a guy, let alone had a relationship, and next to him I feel plain. I want him to like me, I've texted him a few times and he doesn't seem that interested. I wanna be more interesting, but I really don't want to change in order to get him to like me because that would feel like play pretend and wouldn't be fair to the both of us. I don't know what to do and I fear now, that I'll be uninteresting forever and for everyone. I want him so much, but I don't really feel worthy of him. What can I do?"
Wow, how big is the pedestal you've built for this guy? It seems like it's higher than the sun. The thing about having a crush on someone is that it the sunlight blinds you to their flaws. Yeah, he plays guitar, but he only knows that shitty song about Mrs Brown's lovely daughter, and he can't sing. He can speak 4 languages you say? One of those is Klingon. I'm guessing that the "whole package" here is that he's really good looking and that he's not paying any attention to you. You, on the other hand, are underestimating yourself. "Oh, I'm plain, I'm boring, I have no interests!" What are you blathering about? You must have SOME interests. You're not in a coma. You can talk. You can form thoughts. But you're right about one thing: you don't have to change. And another thing: you don't HAVE to have a relationship with this guy. Just because you have a crush doesn't mean it has to happen. Sometimes, it's not meant to be. You're not comfortable around this guy, he makes you feel inadequate. Hardly the start of a great relationship now, is it? Find someone who makes you feel special, not plain. Get out there instead of drooling over the next door neighbor. For all you know, he pisses on the toilet seat and he's a closet racist.
Remometol is hesitating:
"Hi, I need your help, or I probably won't be writing this. I'm in one of those "confess and risk breaking the friendship" problems: my crush of 2 years (don't judge) is moving to a different country in a few weeks. She's a good friend, but I'm not in the friend zone. We've had good times and bad times, and were even in a relationship for a month, so on one hand I don't want to ruin our friendship by saying I like her, and on the other hand I don't want to waste my chance. She'll be back next year, but I think that my chances will get lower and lower if I wait. I'm ready to have a long distance relationship with her if it comes to that. We're both 18 and studying now, and she's one of the people I respect the most (you're above her on the list, naturally) so I want to stay in touch."
Oh dear, another "friendzone" reference. What is it with you young people and this mystical "friendzone"? It doesn't exist. It's just a buzzword. You're either friends or you're not. You can't pretend to be friends with a girl, hoping to get your penis inside her vagina just because you're nice to her. The attraction is either there or it isn't. The people who talk about "friendzones" are always doing so in the context of people who are totally out of their league. Sorry, but it's true. In my heyday, I was no catch. On my better days, I looked like a biker chick and I was fine with that. But I had no pretence of going after the captain of the football team (then again, I hated jocks), because we weren't on the same level of hotness. These young guys, complaining about being "friendzoned", it's always young twits harping on about cute young things who are way hotter than they are. Get real, guys. As for you, Remometol, you've had a relationship with this girl for a month after crushing on her for TWO YEARS. She's moving to A DIFFERENT COUNTRY, I mean, come on, just be a good friend and be supportive and stop thinking about trying to poon her. Keep in touch, stop trying to touch her keep. Move on, find a girl who actually fancies the pants off you. You tit.
Last question from ProximityToDeath, who is concerned about her sister:
"Dear Auntie Bernie,
I am so lost when it comes to my older sister and I don't know what to do. She just turned 18 and has been constantly throwing me under the bus in favour of her boyfriend. She makes promises to help me and then the next second she is blowing me off to spend time with him instead; even when it came to my birthday. I know people change and grow, but I can't count on her for anything anymore. What do I do?"
Hang on. You're complaining about your sister hanging out with her boyfriend instead of you? What is this, some sort of Greek tragedy? Is there something missing from this story? I'm reading between the lines here but... I don't understand the problem, because that's what happens when you're young. You have boyfriends and girlfriends, and family takes a backseat. Well, not literally, that would be weird. Although, the way you put it, it almost seems like you WANT to be in the backseat. Just let her get on with it, find yourself your own love life and have some fun!
There, that'll do for this month. As I've said, if you wrote to me and you're a bit saddened to see that you weren't featured in this month's column, don't despair! You might appear next month. If you want to write to me to appear in the near future, my profile is here, or click on my message in the comments under the article.
Who let the dogs out?
This is last part of the column: the profile pic. The people who wrote to me also have faces. I don't mean the people who cheat by using pictures stolen from Instagram accounts belonging to other people (In doubt? Google reverse image search) and claim "That's me!", I'm talking about the people who are brave (or stupid) enough to put their real face on FML, and who have agreed to appear here.
This week, we're taking a look at dramaelf. This is definitely the new look for this winter. In 2016, everyone will be wearing gas masks in their profile pictures or in the supermarkets. I think I still have mine from when I went to protest against the Vietnam war. Or was it when I was into weird stuff in Berlin? Anyway, the double Vs are a cultural thing, they're either a British "Fuck you, you wankers" (which I learned during my time following Pink Floyd around) or they're one of these poses that are gang-influenced but don't actually mean anything, besides "I don't know what to do with my hands when a camera is pointed at me, help!" I'm going with the second possibility, because that jacket would never be worn by someone who listens to decent music. And the less said about the nail varnish, the better.
That's my third monthly column over with. I hope you liked it. Or hated it. Either way, come back next month, maybe you'll be featured if you've written to me. Maybe just write if you want to be featured as the profile picture person. Makes no difference. In any case, don't hesitate to write to me if you need help seeing the light and/or need advice on how to lead your love life. I'll try and help out, in my own special way. Take care, young twits of FML.
Auntie Bernie is dressed by Bénédicte of Bloutouf