It took me months to discover the word count feature on TextEdit. Since May 16, 2013 I have written 311,718 words. A number I felt defeated by. Because without merit, I felt my word count would be in the millions. I don’t know what a million words look or feel like. Apparently, I know what three hundred thousand words look like. They’re endless in pdf format and still, they do not feel like nearly enough. I wonder what three hundred thousand words would look like printed out. Maybe I would be more receptive to their meaning if they were tangible.

        I wanted to find my word count to debase a heavy percentage.

        The only spreadsheets I have made without compensation are ones made out of curiosity. They are semi-failed experiments to calculate things like how many cigarettes I have smoked, how much money I’ve spent on [blank], and which moon signs I’m attracted to.

        This experiment was conducted so I could calculate the sum of words I’ve wasted on men. I knew it was a lot, but I wanted to know precisely how many words were gifted to the object of my desire. I Command⌘+F’d the name of every boy I’ve ever liked, thought about, slept with, or considered. I moved on to keywords like “him, his, boy, man, sex, c*ck, d*ck, p*nis, horny, and flirt.” Similar to the word count, I wanted my use of these words to shock me.

        After I got through every name and noun I reached a sum of 9,861. Almost 10,000 of my discoverable words were dedicated to boys, which makes up for a measly 3.1%.

        The only boyfriend I’ve ever had got 974 of my words. This felt detrimental, until I compared it to the 497 I dedicated to a man who never wanted anything more than sex from me. This anagram brought me solace. Some men got 21 words, others got 136. Men I had known for only a few months got 35-40. Men I had never met got upwards of 16, which is a lot when you think about how little involvement they had in my life.

        When I began my research, I thought I knew exactly why I was doing this. I had theories and witty one-liners and seemingly meaningful purpose stored only in my brain, and they all questioned why I write about boys so much and why I’ve deemed it an issue. I had beliefs about how a real number was going to make me feel. I believed that a percentage would give me an answer. It could certify that I do write about boys too much. It could force me to pick a more fulfilling muse.

        I thought that once I had my percentage, I would write this big elaborate piece, backed by numbers, proving my greatest weakness—my wastefulness with words that should be precious. But this percentage, the 3.168925, was even more underwhelming than my cumulative word count. It was an imaginary resolution disproving a result I was unsure I even wanted.

        I dedicated my day to this, not that toggling between tabs would take up the entirety of my day, but I planned my research, my results, and the hypothesis to follow. I have been questioning my fixation with men for musings since 2015, and I decided today was the day I get my answer.

    When the numbers offered no remedy, I began again. Command⌘+F “boys” going as far back as 2015.




        No number was large enough to pinpoint what one search provided. The words I dedicated to boys were no words wasted. I only feared that they supplanted my true memories and that is what offered me regret. On December 25, 2015 I forced myself to write about my first-time scuba-diving, my travels to Indonesia, and Christmas with my family–rather than my crush back home. But half way around the world, 30,000 feet in the air, or 30 feet underwater, my crush back home was still a part of my experience.

        I conducted this experiment to validate the belief that those 9,861 words written should have been used to memorialize my experiences, rather than to immortalize a man. Without acknowledging that men may be essential to my experience.

        Those 9,861 words are only names, actions, and descriptors. The 3.1% is inconsequential. It’s a fraction of words used only to provide context. The remainder of my word count, the 301,317 words I never took into account, are the ones that are worthy of analysis.