The two cents you didn’t know you were short: “you’re dealing with a fuckboy”

0. It’s not you’re fault they’re a fuckboy

0. Fuckboys aren’t all that bad 😉

Have you been a victim of the modern “fuckboy?” Urban dictionary defines a fuckboy as “someone who is only looking for a piece of ass to use, then throw away.”  If you have been a victim of the modern day fuck boy you may be entitled to compensation in forms of: a bottle of wine with a label that says “Girl Boss,” a copy of  the book “You are a Bad Ass,” or my personal fave, a DVD copy of “ John Tucker Must Die.” 

Here’s the deal, you probably feel like you got played. Think about it.. did you reaaaally get played? Or did you have a good time? I hope hope hope he showed his fuckboy side before you got attached, but if he didn’t, there’s something you should know. It’s not your fault he’s a fuckboy. It’s not your fault you fell for his flirting, photo likes, and cheesy humor. That’s on him. See, unlike you, he knew what he was doing the entire time. He knew he was setting you up; you were a game, and you got played. 

So, how do you come back from that? Do you ghost him and drink your “Girl Boss” labeled-wine? Do you tell him how amazing you are and how his validation is not necessary? Or do you convince someone else to date him, with hopes you can be in her ear and hurt him the way he hurt you? 

While those are all great options, I think it’s important to remember that fuckboys aren’t all that bad!

Remember that unsolicited dick pic? The one that made you vomit in your mouth a little, but then you sent, in your group chat, for your friends to roast? Remember how spicy you felt when you sent that risky pic back.. and you knooooow you made an impression? Remember when you got all those free drinks, dinners, and orgasms? 

See, the thing about fuckboys is that they have something to prove. They’re committed to making you feel like you’re the only girl in the world, and that’s the kind of confidence boost that will get you through all your self-given orgasms!

Fuckboys strive from knowing you’re in the palm of their hands, but what if you know they’re a fuckboy? What if you just soak up all the perks of a fuckboy, while being the girl boss you are??

Personally, I have a group chat that strives on our interactions with fuckboys! We love a free drink, and we’ll deal with a fuckbboy to get it. Sometimes we just need a confidence boost, and we’ll deal with a fuckboy to get it. My group chat chooses to focus on what we can get from a fuckboy: compliments, (solicited) dick pics, and orgasms. Never overlook the value of an orgasm (or a dick pic. I mean, if you’re sending pics, better have some for safe keeping). 

So, challenge yourself to see the good in a fuckboy. They’re not all that bad... I just hope you notice he’s a fuckboy before he hooks ya! Have fun, live a little. 

Be. In. Charge.

Self care thought: Know your comfort levels. Don’t go out of your comfort zone for a fuckboy. If you don’t feel comfortable sending pics, don’t! If you don’t feel comfortable being a ‘side chick’ don’t! This life is yours and you get to live it however you want, doing whatever/whomever you want (within reason). 



The Two Cents You Didn’t Know You Were Short: It's Time to Break Up

0:You won’t leave him until you’re really ready to leave him. 

0: Choosing yourself is the best choice you can make 

I dated my ex for two years and two months, almost to the day. We had talked children and marriage. We had two cats together. We had both got more successful jobs in the time we were dating, as we pushed each other to be more than what we were at any given moment. 

Until we didn’t. 

I started seeing a therapist 8 months before I kicked my ex out of my house. To be honest, I only met with her four or five times. I told myself that I stopped going because it was $70.00 a visit, but I really knew it was because she was helping me become strong enough to leave my boyfriend. She was forcing me to picture a world where I was single and caring for myself, to see a world where I could be successful doing just that. 

A month before my ex officially moved out of my house, I asked him to leave for the first time in our entire relationship. Don’t get me wrong, the thought had been crossing my mind for months. I just wasn’t ready to give up hope that the person I loved more than anything in the world, loved me enough to join my level of effort to make us work. He went to work, I put all of his clothes in trash bags (Fabreeze scented, I’m not a monster). When he came home he was shocked, then I was shocked that he was shocked. Then I was shocked that he made plans without me that night. 

What I learned that night was that I wasn’t ready. I did what any confused woman would; seduced him, begged for forgiveness, then acted like nothing had happened. One month to the day later I was in another situation where I didn’t feel heard, loved, or appreciated. Hours passed with no communication, and I snapped. Everything I had thought we could fix in one month flew out the window when my ex showed up after eight hours of no communication, drunk. That’s when I learned you won’t leave him, until you’re really ready to leave him. Those two cents seem simple enough, but it’s something that I had to hear, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. 

When I realized I was either going to follow through with the break up, or swallow my pain yet again I did the unthinkable; I. Chose. Me.Choosing yourself is the best choice you can make. Just because it was the best choice doesn’t mean it was easy. It was hard. I’d been choosing ‘us’ for so long, that making a choice about ‘us’ by myself felt so wrong. It felt scary. It felt as if I was pushing against my entire future. 

Until it didn’t. 

I accepted that there could be no us. That there was just a me, and ‘just me’ deserved to have all the effort I’d been giving to someone else focused back on me. I accepted that I deserved to love myself the way I’d been trying to force another human to love me. I deserved to take care of myself physically, emotionally, spiritually, and sexually. I didn’t need to rely on a man for that. I found a tiny bit of empowerment and I clung to it . I clung to it until he moved his last procession out. I clung to it when he pried my cat out of my arms. I clung to it when I wanted to beg him to stay. I clung to it until it was just me. Then I laid it down and let it become part of the foundation of the ‘me’ I was about to build, and what a strong piece of foundation it was. 

*Self-care thoughts: Seeing a therapist is a really great form of self care. They’re a totally non biased human who’s attention is on you for an entire hour, with no distractions. No phone, no checking insta or Twitter. Just a one on one talk-it out sesh where you learn to empower yourself, how to process your emotions, or just have a good cry with someone who apparently has a never ending supply of tissues. 10/10 would recommend

The Two Cents You Didn't Know You Were Short: My First Week Being Single

0. Getting on a dating app can be a fun way to boost your self-esteem and a quick way to remind you that you are desirable.

0. It’s ok to come home after your first date after a long term relationship, fall on your bathroom floor, and cry your eyes out. 

 I refuse to lie to you, not only because that defeats the purpose of being anonymous, but because I think women too often stuff away their true emotions. We hold ourselves to a standard that’s too high for any human to try to actually reach, and get hard on ourselves when how we feel doesn’t reflect the break up timeline of a Lifetime Original Movie. 


When my boyfriend of just over two years moved out I was so unbelievably relieved. I was breathing for the first time in months. With so much freedom I thought, hey let’s check out how much Tinder has changed in the past couple of years.


 I’d never had a good experience from a Tinder date, but I was on the prowl, swiping left and right (I also noted the fellas I swiped right on that didn’t match me, not sure why they would swipe left on such a goddess, but their loss). What I realized in my swiping process was that getting on a dating app can be a fun way to boost your self esteem and a quick way to remind you that you are desirable. No strings attached. It was confidence boosting getting matches, even from the guys I’d swipe right on just to see if they thought they’d have a chance with me. They’d message, I’d unmatch them, basking in the self esteem boost that someone had wanted to talk to me.  Basking in the small bit of control I felt in that situation. 


Eventually I struck gold. A non-stop conversation between myself and a blue eyed beauty struck up. The conversation was not forced, not only surface deep, and had me genuinely feeling like there was the possibility that I could have a connection with another man again. Being the eager, on the prowl gal I was, I asked him if he wanted to get drinks the next night. A quick yes was exchanged.. with a quick add of minor information.


He was married. In town for work, and don’t worry, he had an open marriage..


Having already created the plan, and not wanting to spend my first weekend single alone, I decided to believe him. To believe he was in an open relationship, and to believe that my morals could handle ‘just drinks.’


Let me tell you, I had a hell of a good time. He was here for work, so I had to pick him up. As he climbed in, left side facing me all I saw was BOOM. Wedding ring. Still didn’t shake my moral compass. Why would a cheater wear their wedding ring? I’ve seen the movies, they put them in their pockets at the very least. He must really have an open relationship, phew conscience cleared.


We had a great time. My cheeks hurt from laughing. He listened to me talk about my ex. I listened to him talk about his wife. At one point I said my ex’s name, which lead him to use his wife’s. Who’s name was coincidentally the same as mine. Which did weird me out, my conscience began coming back into play.


I decided it wasn’t that bad because we weren’t going to do anything physical. We were just friends. The kind that had dressed up for dinner, messaged each other non-stop for two days straight, and had wrapped up the night on my couch. Which is honestly as far as it went. We didn’t even cuddle. He called an ubber by midnight. 


As I opened the front door for him to leave I did what any adult would do and checked my mail. There it was. His name. A simple bill was enough to punch me in the gut. I did the only logical thing I could think of; began crying. Not simple tears that we’re going away any time fast. 


Nope. The kind of cry that teaches you It’s ok to come home after your first date after a long term relationship, fall on your bathroom floor, and cry your eyes out. I called my ex, who answered at 12:30 AM simply to hear me crying and say “I don’t have to listen to this anymore, bye.” Ouch. Good thing I was already on the floor, that blow would have knocked me to my knees had I been standing up. So I stayed on the bathroom floor listening to Taylor Swift (16 year old T-Swift). And I cried a lot. I made myself sick in the process. Then I pulled myself up; washed my face, brushed my teeth, and crawled into my bed all by myself. 


When I woke up the next morning I felt another piece of the healing process fall into place. I opted to not talk to Mr. Married again, and to delete Tinder until I had given myself time to find my self-esteem without the attention of a man, which I HIGHLY recommend. 


Self care thought: when going through a highly emotional experience, listen to your gut. Make pro and con lists. Talk to a therapist, or your friend that believes in tough love. Don’t take on too much at a time, and never force yourself to take on huge life changes on your own.

The Two Cents You Didn’t Know You Needed: The First Hookup, After a Long Relationship

0.      If you’re having sex that you want to have, whomever it is with and however many people it is with, is your business, and yours alone.

0.      Letting a new person experience you, at your most vulnerable, can be fucking scary, and that’s ok.

 I was raised in a strict Christian home. It was drilled into my head that sex before marriage should never cross your mind, and that your virginity is the best gift you can give to a man. Well, here’s my two cents: If you’re having sex that you want to have, whomever it is with and however many people it is with, is your business, and yours alone. That penny did NOT come easily to me. I did not lose my virginity until I was 24. I slept with a man I thought I was going to marry. For me, I was not reeeeaaaallly going against how I was raised, I was just taking the steps out of order. WHELP. Fast forward two years, terrible sex (really, I’d count the thrust until it was over), no foreplay, never getting any compliments on my physical appearance, and genuinely being unhappy in many areas, I broke up with this man. I guarantee it lasted so long because, for me, sex is a commitment. It’s something I can’t undo.


Here’s the deal. Sex. Is. Good.


If you’re having sex that isn’t good, that’s a piece of self-care we need to address.


After ending a two year relationship, I didn’t rush out to meet someone new. However, I decided to get to know myself. I bought a fantastic vibrator, and started carving out ‘me time,’ daily. Yes daily. Orgasms are good. They give you dopamine, which helps boost your mood, and if you’re pleasing yourself and boosting your mood, you’re less likely to ask you ex to come back to you (at least in my situation).


If you prefer the company of another human, go for it. If you don’t want others to judge you, keep it to yourself. How you get over someone or how you choose to re-find yourself is no ones business.


Meredith Grey said “You don't get to call me a whore. When I met you, I thought I had found the person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I was done. So all the boys, and all the bars, and all the obvious daddy issues, who cared? Because I was done. You left me. You chose Addison. I'm all glued back together now. I make no apologies for how I chose to repair what you broke”


Girl, fix yourself the way you need to. Let me be very forward here; make sure that how you’re fixing yourself is not actually breaking you more. Know yourself. I knew I couldn’t rush to sleep with someone new. I first had to accept I wasn’t going to sleep with my ex again, and then set my boundaries for who I would sleep with moving forward.


After deciding what my expectations were for moving forward, I did just that. I mean obviously not that simply. There were a lot of tears, and a lot of missing what I was familiar with. So I wrote (well, typed) a love note to myself, the feelings I wanted to feel before I would sleep with someone knew. The top three on this list were; love, attraction, and anticipation. If I could give you some bonus advice it would be set your standards/expectations. This helped me not let myself down. I also gave myself room to not feel guilty if I didn’t follow my entire list of feelings I set. When I slept with someone, three months post relationship, I was NOT in love, but I could see myself falling in love with this man. I was VERY attracted to him, and I’d been anticipating sleeping with him since I’d met him (almost two months prior). If Meatloaf taught me anything, two outta three ain’t bad.


The hardest part about sleeping with someone new was accepting that they were going to see me naked and at my most vulnerable. Letting a new person experience you at your most vulnerable can be fucking scary, and that’s ok. I know for certain that I am not the only one who has had these thoughts. I also know that they’re overrated, and no guy who cares about you is thinking anything negative about your body once you’ve punched their ticket for the hot mess express.


The first time I had sex after being in a long term relationship, I made the guy wait  ‘a long time’ in modern society. That long time was four dates. I wanted to sleep with him on date two, but couldn’t get past the wall I had built in my mind that I couldn’t be ‘easy’ or ‘slutty.’ Guess what? I slept with him on date four (which society would still categorize as ‘easy’ or ‘slutty’) and felt no guilt, I guarantee had I slept with him on date two I would have. See how I looked out for myself there? You have got to make yourself a priority. I’m thankful I had written a love note to myself, acknowledging what I was looking for before giving a piece of myself to another person (I will never not think of that, thanks Christian upbringing). Aside from covering up a little more than usual, I actually wasn’t one bit self conscious sleeping with someone new. You know why? Because he wouldn’t have been sleeping with me if he wasn’t attracted to me. Remember. That. You are beautiful and any man thinking poorly of your appearance while having sex with you says more about him on the inside than you on the outside.


Anyways, enough about you, back to me. I’m sleeping with this new person, feeling very excited that I feel comfortable enough and that he doesn’t believe foreplay is a myth, everything is going great. Until it just stops. Now, I’ve only been with one person and usually sex went longer than I was comfortable with, but I’ve never been super into it and then it just.. stopped.. I looked at him and said in a voice I know was too disappointed “did you finish?” The answer was yes. So I popped up. Went to the bathroom. Put on my ‘not disappointed face’ as well as my pants and went back out to face him. He was dressed and ready to head out.


Apologizing for his performance.. fair.


Also, what am I supposed to say to that? I was just laying there, not like I had any room to critique.


So I did what any good midwestern girl would do, offered him some tater-tot casserole to go. Adding a bit of awkward to the conversation by saying “are you planning to see me again” as I opened my container cupboard. “I hope so” he answered, obviously wondering why I’d ask that, while his ego was hurting from lasting one minute only three minutes before. “Well I’m not going to send you out with my good Tupperware if I’m not getting it back.” With that, I wrap up my two cents.





Take some time for self-care; write a love note to you, write down your expectations from a partner- write down your expectations of you as a partner. Writing a love note to me helped me knock down emotional walls I hadn’t even realized I built. Let someone new in on your own time, but don’t make them crash through a wall to get there. Break down your own walls, build them where they belong. Open doors for people as they earn that privilege.

The Two Cents You Didn’t Know You Were Short: Introduction


The Two Cents You Didn’t Know You Were Short” comes from the brilliant (and beautiful) heart of a woman I’m currently coaching. Through our coaching, together, we’ve focused on the My Q-Life “Essentials” - allowing her to heal her heart, and regain confidence in living a life filled with health and happiness.

Women have a tough go; we’re expected to be strong, yet fragile - independent, yet nurturing - brave, yet soft - both sides of the coin. Rarely do we have the opportunity to express the emotions felt, trying to juggle these different sides. What happens when we can’t express these emotions? Disease, and “dis-EASE” occur, in the body.

As a health coach, I specialize in helping women juggle the different sides - working to fill up their own cup. Together, we work to overcome the negative, celebrate the positive, and find clarity. If you’re interested in working together, to create your best self, please reach out!

Cents From Sandy” is a beautiful series of stories, meant for women. The “taboo” topics we don’t ever have the opportunity to talk about, but think about, often. These stories were written to help one woman heal her heart, while reminding other women that we are never alone.

The Two Cents You Didn’t Know You Were Short: Introduction

         0.      You cannot be the only one in the world who thinks this way.

         0.      You have many parts to you, and each part requires its own set of standards to be cared for. We’ll talk about the many parts of our self that require different types of self-care, and what ‘self-care’ really means.

Today, after having mediocre sex, with someone I’m not in a relationship with, I did what any sane woman does.. I called my best friend. Her first question was ‘so are y’all in a relationship now??’ I’m three months out of a two year relationship, so NO I am not in a relationship. I just wanted my ex screwed out of me, if I’m being honest. My first thought after hearing her say that was ‘I cannot be the only person who thinks this way!’ Which got me thinking... how many things have I altered my thought process on because someone I was speaking with was directing my feelings in a different direction than I had been choosing to feel? 

I’d like to focus on the raw emotions I (and you) have felt while taking care of the many parts of you. I’d really like to focus on self-care and how self-care looks different, depending on the part of yourself you’re caring for. I’ve personally been working on finding how to care for myself spiritually, physically, sexually, and in the relationships I build. I won’t lie, most of my two cents will come from what I personally pocketed through each learning curve, even if the penny I pocketed was the one that sits in the bottom of your cup holder (you know the one that’s glued in by a mystery gooey substance, and will be there always reminding you that you have the coin, you just can’t spend it).

I chose the title ‘The Two Cents You Didn’t Know You Needed’ because hearing other people’s stories can help us work through our own. Can make our stories seem a little more normal. Even make our simplest stories feel important. You’re free to pocket my two cents, or leave them on the counter, for the next person who comes up a couple short. Either way, I hope you continue dropping by to hear my two cents worth.

- Sandy