When It Comes To Dating, I'll Take My Stability With A Side Of Crazy

by Zara Barrie

When I was a little girl, I used to find myself lost in deep and detailed fantasies about a passionate, turbulent and bitingly dangerous romance.

Of course I had never been in love, but my young and wild imagination soared at the prospect of meeting a raven-haired partner-in-crime, one whom I would embark on a life-long steamy affair with, my life rich with long nights of incredible sex, passionate arguments and intoxicating love.

Again, I had never actually been in love. Nor had I really been exposed to “crazy.”

I, like a lot of girls in my generation, had a glamorized, child-like perspective on what “crazy” actually meant (I watched a lot of "90210" at an impressionable age).

I thought “crazy” meant motorcycles and dark hair and tattoos and lit cigarettes, all of which I found myself magnetically drawn to.

To me, “crazy” meant heaps of exhilarating excitement, and “stability” meant slowly dying, rotting from the inside out whilst settling into a painfully boring, banal, sexless existence.

So it should come as little to no surprise that when I entered the big, bad world of "dating" in my teens (I was an early bloomer -- must have been all the "90210."), I wasn’t exactly holding hands with the class valedictorian.

I was drawn to the wild, insatiable, hyper-creative, bat sh*t CRAZY kids. The untamable creatures that roamed the high school hallways with pockets full of nicotine and notebooks filled with tortured words.

The types that were unashamed to press you up against the locker and brazenly kiss you with a reckless abandon amidst the sea of disapproving faces from the swarms of passing-by teachers.

In hindsight, I will state for the record, with utmost confidence, that these teenage “crazies” were as magnetized to me as I was to them.

I’ve always fit seamlessly into the crazy lifestyle, especially as a young, reckless, teenage girl who hardly slept and rocked skinny black denim as well as any chick on the block.

I was the perfect accessory to a crazy entity.

Spiraling down the "crazy" vortex

As I got a little bit older, I first embarked on my initial spiral down the crazy vortex.

The people I dated were fantastic: soulfully evolved and powerfully impassioned. They had a deep understanding of my pain and angst, always fulfilling my impulsive desires and lustful fantasies.

Until it got to a point where magical nights spent staring at the great expanse of the stars while baring souls until the sun came up didn’t quite make up for the laundry list of issues my crazy lovers were endlessly bestowing upon me.

When crazy energy is not channeled into positive outlets such as art and music, it often manifests itself in toxic dark forms: addiction, extreme narcissism, self-abuse and other self-destructive activities.

Actively flirting with "stability"

It became all too much for me.

While I loved the deep connections I had cohesively cultivated with my crazy lovers, I was growing weary of being left at airports because my partners were too wrapped up in themselves to remember to pick me up.

I don't know if it's as simple as growing up, but ever so suddenly, I began to crave someone I could build a real life with, not just impulsively hop a plane to an exotic location with.

I’ve always been an all-or-nothing girl, so you better believe when I first began to long for stability, I ran like a bat out of hell in the opposite direction.

I didn't understand what the true definition of stable was, so I assumed "stable" surely meant boring.

For about six months, I suffered through a slew of dinner dates with personality-less drones, free of creative ambitions, and pent-up desires and lovable flaws.

I quickly realized these "stable" people didn't get me at all.

Exploring the extremes

Sometimes a girl has to explore the extremes before she is able to find the firm soil of the middle ground.

After dating both the "crazy" and the "stable" prototypes, I slowly sifted back toward the earth.

I realized stability didn’t have to be synonymous with vacant, or disconnected, or sexless or boring.

Stability is actually sexy and intriguing

I quickly learned real stability (as opposed to "stability") is actually incredibly sexy, amazingly connected and the opposite of boring.

Real stability is rich with a longer-lasting excitement that intrigues far more than a quick fire burnout of a relationship built solely on crazy ground.

The true definition of stability

See, when a relationship is built on strong, stable roots, it holds a chance at withstanding true love. Because when a person truly loves you, they're fueled with the genuine (STABLE) desire to be there for you.

They will venture out of their way for you when it’s not convenient to them. They would never, ever forget to pick you up at the airport when you’ve been gone for weeks at a time.

They won’t suck your blood dry or drain your spirit because they’re so achingly vulnerable and hopelessly lost that they’re furiously codependent on you.

They can think outside the realm of themselves.

Stability is the foundation of real love

When someone wants to provide you with stability, it’s because they love you, not the idea of you.

I began to realize all of my relationships that were nothing but “crazy” were actually devoid of real love.

Real life love is so very different than fantasy love. It’s easier to fall in love with our dream-like perception of a person than it is an actual person standing in front us in the flesh.

We are easily able to project all of our delusions, hopes and desires onto an idea easily -- people are too complex to manipulate like clay.

After all, isn’t love funneled through actions? Love is demonstrated by an ear dutifully listening to you bitch after a long day at the job you hate, by remembering the stupid little pathetic things you fear and making sure they’re always out of your eye line and by encouraging you to go for it when you’re shackled by self-doubt.

Stability with a side of crazy

The grandest lesson of all is learning that a stable relationship can also be peppered with that wonderful little spice you so love called “crazy.”

The goal is to find that person who you can surefire count on to pick you up from airport but also has just enough "crazy" residing within him or her that he or she won't hesitate to dramatically pull the car over on the side of the road, rip your clothes off and f*ck you passionately.

Seek that person who will want to travel the world with you but won't get arrested overseas for buying drugs.

Find the person who will stay up all night talking to you about all the f*cked up sh*t in your head but will also provide you with a smattering of grounding advice that makes it all seem a little bit better.

It's like a meal: You want a healthy, main dish, right? One that will keep you full and provide you with all the right vitamins so you can soar through the rest of the day with energy and a feeling of well-being?

But there is alway going to be that hankering for something naughty. So we order a crazy appetizer that's just enough to satisfy our unrelentingly sweet tooth.

You want stability -- with a side of crazy.