In yet another edition of Kids Who Have Their Shit Together Way More Than You, this eighth grader’s relationship contract sets an example of confidence to which we can all aspire. The contract, found on the floor of an eighth-grade classroom, sets out a number of dating requirements, including “You can’t be looking at these hoes” and “You can’t break my heart because if you break my heart I will break your face.” The terms are followed by the official-sounding “I agree with these terms and conditions;” this eighth-grader knows what they’re doing. Apparently, the contract recipient did sign his agreement (the tweet confirms it was given to a boy), so it worked. Whoever wrote the contract (their identity isn’t known) has some serious confidence we could all learn from.
Source: Phys.org
Some of you may be thinking, “That’s what it’s like when you’re a kid — things are so simple! We’re adults now. Everything’s much harder.” True, dating as an adult is less about clearly defined contractual terms and more about convoluted decision-making processes. We’re faced with loads of articles about the 17 (!) Signs That It’s Time To Define The Relationship, because “I think we probably should” isn’t enough of a sign anymore.
But do we really need all that?
Source: College Gloss
I mean, in a relationship, I want someone who will provide food for me too, so I can’t argue with these bullet points. Now that we’re old enough to be in the kitchen unsupervised, I lean more towards them cooking me food rather than buying me food, but the basic premise is the same. Plus, I think we can all agree that none of us want our partners chatting up or getting physical with any hoes. Many of us have dated someone who was much too flirty and touchy-feely with another person, and who claimed it was totally innocuous, but then ended up dating the target of their flirtation and excessive touching, right? The writer of this contract knows where that leads. Fist-bumping is the limit of acceptable contact with these other teens.
Speaking of which: I have questions about the transition from “hoes” to “these hoes.” Was it simply a question of wording, or did the contract writer start off thinking about hoes in general and then narrow their focus to specific hoes? If the latter is true, which hoes? Also, “these” implies exclusiveness, so are there other hoes (e.g. “those hoes”) that the contract signatory is permitted to hug/look at?
Grammatical queries aside, I’m totally on board with the idea of a relationship contract, written or otherwise. You know why those “One Million Things To Think About Before Defining The Relationship” articles have so many steps? It’s because we’re meant to be afraid of scaring the other person away, and to prioritize that fear over what we actually want.
This contract is one big “HELL NO” to that mindset. Of course we should respect our partner’s needs and wants, but we also need to be confident in setting out our needs, wants, and boundaries. And if they can’t sign on to those terms and conditions, maybe we’re better off without them.
Original by Kelly Kanayama
