Clingy girl problems: 5 main problems

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Picture gotten from-Pinterest

Clingy girls often wonder how girls that spend weeks and months away from their men survive. Other times they question why some girls that claim to be in love are so attached to privacy. How these other girls don’t talk about their men to their friends or even family, they ponder on what a few girls view as normal.

I was once a clingy girl, I bought into the idea that one has to think about their man like he were their favourite food, that every single time kind of thinking. It was more like craving someone when they aren’t there and even more when they are present. Being clingy made me less gullible to and very repellent of other men. It made me believe in soul mates. It made me believe in being in love.

Transiting from clinginess however, taught me one or two things about myself, it helped me understand men and at the same time understand the importance of space in any given relationship.

Here’s a list of problems you may find with a clingy girl;

  1. A girl who is clingy may befriend everything of yours ranging from what you love doing to what you find unbearable. She may want to be friends with all your friends and family members. She may want to be involved in your hobbies as well.
  2. A clingy girl is very inquisitive. She’d like to know what, why, when, how and where you get involved with things. This may not necessarily be in a bad way but most times it is her own way of caring and looking out for you.
  3. She may be impossibly into you and may seldom feel a bit left out when you prioritize something you enjoy doing or other people you enjoy hanging out with over her.
  4. If you’re in it with a clingy girl you may eventually realize how gradually your lives begin to intertwine. Your daily routine may begin to revolve around hers as she may eat deeply into yours with time. You both will have five or more things only you both are peculiar with (may be a phrase, code, people, places or even slangs).
  5. A clingy girl finds it okay to invade your privacy (as in her head, what’s yours is hers).

Most men may find these problems as no problem in the start of a relationship however, most are often worn out after they realize that their girl may not necessarily stop being herself. Although clingy girls are hardly talked out of their relationships and are mostly trustworthy and open minded, they may on the long run become toxic to their men. This toxicity may be caused by the accumulation of lies and unnecessary fights brewed by their men in order to have their own space and avoid being suffocated.

Some clingy girls repel their men in future and may often push them to derive excitement from staying clear from them which may not necessarily happen with the intention to hurt them.

Being clingy is one good way to stay in love but it is also important to enjoy your own space and build in it when in a relationship.

Have you ever been a clingy girl? or do you think you currently can relate to some of these problems? Is your girl clingy? I’d love to know what you’re thinking in the comment section dear reader. I’d love you to add to the list as well if you are aware of any more problems. Thank you.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

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For millennials: 21

 

Journaling

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There is no warmth in waiting for the right time. The patience will sting harder than the truth you believe about holding on.

Misery becomes more appealing.

“may you be defined by your boldness in running through dry and dark cracks.”

I’d get into the bus sometimes, most times with my headphones banging loud music out its tiny speakers.

Sitting by windows is my favourite thing. My eyes get to count coloured and grey houses, watch trees and many other greens. I often begin to play rhythmic music in a lowered volume to feel the same feeling I get when watching good scenery movies. I deviate into solitude and just observe.

It is powerful.

The only regular thought I’ve known is home, it’s sometimes with me and other times I fear to think of its broken tone.

I’ve watched myself grow with strangers that I call friends. I’ve been shaken by subtle disagreements imposed by the universe in openness.

I seldom believe we are all here, just making history and not living well enough. We will all die surviving with or without purpose.

“In love, the purest of our souls’ manifest.

In love, we succumb to humility and fear without coercion.

In love, we tell our stories in ways we wish they existed.”

Can you read the signs through my saggy eye bags?

I’m knackered by pressure from my wants and the wants I’m expected to want.

I heard mum’s voice on WhatsApp call and she sounded like 50 hasn’t been good to her. I’ve been thinking of her in a sweet way lately. In a way I would spoil her with happier days if she were here.

“Be generous and kind with what you bear to instil

I’m one and a half page of an A4 gone and I’m still wasting words on consciousness. This is what it feels like to fight forces that you never chose, fighting constantly.

You will live, you will live

You will write, you will write

You will love, you will love

You will break, you will break

You will heal, you will heal

You will die again and again before you learn to live to die.

“Be offended by your zeal to live because thinking of your death will remind you of here always”

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

“Sour chills”

Millenial

I don’t remember the first time I fell in love. The solace it took to bring me to this troubled place. I don’t recall heartbeats I’ve felt from time to time belonging to strangers and men I once kissed. I don’t remember how to unlearn this silent attitude, the one that brews spite from those who claim to love me.

I’m tired of hearing of self-love. I give up on people who preach about it, people that constantly practice self-loathe.

When was the last time you listened to your own words?

When did you last feel the warmth of words from a mouth you heard and not one you read?

Tell me when your pretence is over, sweet-bitter modern adult.

There’s more rhythm here, in these words, in my ink. There’s a sense of belonging in what my pen utters. Soft, peak and labile when I reread them. I don’t seem to care about wanting or seeking in these words, I urge to be wanted.

I’ve tasted sounds of music. The ones I listen to when in fear of falling, the naked ones’ mum and dad will shake in disbelief if you told them how much they move me. I bear loneliness like my cross just like you, just like everyone else, letting good people go and inviting new devils to dance in my life cycle. I’ve ruined the walls I built with fear and passion, dragging my ego round its fences with pride. I’ve lived for only a few but talk like old adults who don’t shout to prove that they are wise.

How much more in-between can I be? How much more can we?

Allow yourself to feel these ramblings.

Allow these words resonate.

Don’t fight my thoughts too, please.

 

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017