Society wants us to believe that men only want girls who live off smoothies and kale salads. Count your calories, drink four times your weight in water, and you’ll morph into one of those hotties who gets paid to Instagram her tiny ass on a beach somewhere. Though it’s tempting to believe that the only route to love and happiness is a 30-day squat challenge, society has it dead wrong. Happiness isn’t a tight bod that all the boys want; it’s an 8-inch circle of heaven that doesn’t give a damn about your pant size.
- Pizza never judges. It doesn’t care if you ate like a frat boy all week. It doesn’t care if you haven’t stepped foot in a gym in a month. Unlike some of my ex-boyfriends, pizza would never subtly hint that your pants are getting a little tight or order a salad for you at Chili’s while you’re in the bathroom. It knows that there are more important things in life than looking like a fitness model.
- Pizza never bores me. Like men, there are a thousand different varieties of pizza to choose from. I can keep it classic with a good ole pepperoni and cheese, or I can get a little out of my comfort zone and try a meat lovers (that sounded a lot more risque than I intended it to). Unlike men, pizza is never predictably bad. You can’t see it’s douchiness coming a mile away, and you know exactly where to order the good stuff.
- I’m secure enough to share my pizza with other girls. I’m not naive. I know pizza isn’t something I should selfishly hide away from the rest of the world, but something I should share with those closest to me. Jealously isn’t something that exists with pizza —unless I’m scrolling through Twitter and I see one of my friends ordered it without me. When it comes to a guy I’m dating, I’ll be damned if a girl looks at him too long. But when it comes to pizza, I’m all about that free love, baby.
- Pizza never makes me question myself. There’s no worrying about coming on too strong in taking that first bite or finishing more than the recommended amount for one person. With pizza, I’m not obsessing over what it’s telling its friends about our first date or if it found all the craziness that is my high school Twitter feed. Pizza knows I’m not perfect, and it accepts that. It never makes me feel like I need to change or hide any of the uglier aspects about myself. Every girly magazine says to avoid pizza if you want to look hotter and feel more confident about yourself, but I’ve found the opposite to be true.
- I always know where I stand with pizza. Mixed messages are a common issue when it comes to men. We’re always wondering what they’re thinking and trying to figure out how to get on the same page. But with pizza, there’s never any doubt or need for reassurance.
- I never have to worry about what pizza is up to. I mean, other than those random two-for-one deals Papa John likes to tempt me with, pizza can’t post a shady Snapchat or forget to text me back. It’s kind of the best, most uncomplicated relationship I’ve ever been in.
- I’m not worried about my parents not liking it. My parents love pizza — so much so that they ask me to order it every time I offer to cook for them. It’s the weirdest thing and also kind of the best.
- Pizza is always there. If I’m feeling a little blue, I can always get a slice of pizza. I don’t have to jump through any hoops, worry about looking desperate or wonder if it’s already met another girl on Tinder. There aren’t a lot of constants in this life, but a good ole piece of pizza is definitely one of them.
- I don’t obsess about where we’re going. With pizza, all I’m worried about is here and now. There’s no need to get all panicked about what the future holds for us. With guys, it’s easy to get all crazy concerned about what will happen in a year or five. When it comes to my favorite slice of dough, I’m sure that no matter what tomorrow may bring or how far apart my next diet takes us, we’ll always end up back together.
- Pizza makes me feel better about myself. Contrary to popular belief, pizza actually gives me a major boost in my self-esteem. Once I stopped confining myself to the idea that you could only eat pizza if you scarf it down in a dark corner of your living room with your blinds closed, I realized just how much satisfaction I could get from a single slice.
