Pop culture inundates us with clichés about relationships.
We’re told if he cheats with you, he’ll cheat on you (probably true). We’re fed ‘inspirational’ quotes from Marilyn Monroe (except not at all), saying “if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best” (lol, OK). When heterosexual couples are frustrated with each other, we’re reminded that after all, “men are from Mars, women are from Venus” (kill me).
Yet the trope that bugs me the most is the one about snooping. We’re condescendingly told, “If you feel the need to snoop in the first place, the trust is already gone.” Women regularly feel ashamed that they’ve looked through their partner’s phone and found clues that he/she is cheating – and in the world of ‘relationship advice,’ they’re led to believe having looked in the first place is just as bad as, you know, ACTUALLY RUINING A RELATIONSHIP BY SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
Well, whatever. I’m a snooper.
Since my partner and I started dating eight years ago, I've always loved a good ol' snoop. I know all his passwords (because if he didn't share them with me then I'd be suspicious), and I'm always keen for a snoop through his text messages and Facebook. It's just... interesting.
Like a lot of men in their 20s, my partner fails to tell me all the things I'd like to know. While I come home and give him a comprehensive timeline of my day, including what I ate for lunch and why, what dogs I saw on the street and how cute they were, and what my mum told me about my weird cousin, he typically describes his day with just one word: "good."
When I ask him if he has plans for the weekend, his default answer is "nah," only to then get to Saturday morning and tell me there's a very important family dinner and, um, do I have something nice I could wear because it's kinda a special occasion?