Recently, I received pictures of my niece from Christmas in Houston. And they got me thinking … I remembered how excited she had been about making cookies to leave out for Santa. I thought about her tossing in her sleep with images of fairies and sugar plums dancing in her head, anticipating the next morning to see if she’d garnered Santa’s approval.

That reminded me of how I felt before I learned that Santa wasn’t real, and came to realize my parents had lied to me to make me believe in some fairy tale. I was heartbroken.

It then occurred to me: The thought of Santa Claus pisses me off — much like the thought of my ex does.

What did Santa ever do to me? He never existed, that’s what. Learning that he wasn’t real was my first encounter with disappointments with men. And I think I’ve been jaded ever since. Because while Santa wasn’t the first fat old man to put me down, he certainly wasn’t the last.

Two Decembers ago, I learned my boyfriend had another girlfriend — and finding out that our relationship wasn’t real took me back to that same feeling I had as a kid when I discovered the man I spent my childhood trying to impress was a phony. So are all men phonies?

Why do we project that Christmas hoax on our children? Is it to prepare them for disappointments in life? First comes the Santa discussion, when we ultimately learn that a man can disappoint us. Then there’s “the birds and the bees” talk, when we’re warned a guy just wants to have sex with us. So what were Santa’s intentions for spoiling us?

As a child, I put my guard up, from the moment I learned the truth about Santa, and I haven’t really found a reason to put it back down yet. I fear the deceit of Santa has scarred me from believing that a good man really exists. Are they just figments of our imagination? But then again, toys did always end up beneath the Christmas tree.

Define "dating."

When someone says "I am dating ____ (insert name)," it could mean they are boyfriend-girlfriend, they are going to the movies and out to eat on a consistent basis, they are going home together after the bars, or they're just doing the horizontal hump. Basically, dating could entail anything more than friends — without benefits at least.

So what in the hell is dating exactly? Is it how you coin a relationship, or just a PC way of saying "fucking"? Can someone please explain it to me so when I talk about my relations I know how to "DTR" (Define The Relationship) ... because that's hard to do when I can't even define dating.

I wanted to know what you thought dating is defined, so I asked via my Facebook page, and here are some of the responses I got from my request to define dating ...

Have you ever gotten into an airplane with a parachute strapped to your back, only to cling to the side of the plane — literally or metaphorically? Or sat in your cubicle browsing the Internet for other jobs in Charlotte, to close out of the Web browser — and then fight traffic on 77 to just go home where you feel most comfortable? You know, that feeling you get when you climb to the top of a rock and look down at the water below … are you going to jump?

Well, falling in love is a hell of a lot scarier than jumping out of a plane – or changing a routine. Philophobia: the fear of falling in love.

Even the most daring and adventurous people play it safe when it comes to love. They date the "Justin Case" … the one you keep around merely because they’re not a flight risk. The one that endears your flaws, and puts up with your shit. But love is not a safety plan. You deserve more than a Justin Case, as much as no one deserves to be treated like one.

But you do still need to look before you leap. Just like there's a thin line between being happy and merely content, there’s a thin line between naively trying to stay in the game with a player because you think he’ll change his game in the ninth inning, and being too scared to even go up to bat.

Funny thing is … I didn’t want to try and keep up with the driver that was honking at me, or challenge the NBA player to a one-on-one that was trying to run game on me. I was too scared by status (and admittedly, also too insecure to compete with other women). So instead, I dated a guy that was 10 years older, pot-bellied, and on the same playing field as me socially and economically… because he felt safe. And go figure, he’s the one that ended up cheating on me.

That’s the thing about love … when you jump, you never know where you’re going to land. But you always have the option of landing on your feet.

Dating is like buying a house on the ocean and not getting flood insurance. There’s always a chance that the tide will change and come crashing down on you. But wouldn't you rather build your dream home instead of settling for living alone in a shack with no open doors? You can’t buy insurance on a person's loyalty. So why bother trying to make a net before you fall?

Cason-Point: Just effin' jump. And though it’s good to wear protection, take off the life vest that’s covering your heart, and dive in. Fall … in love. If someone doesn’t catch you, the worst you risk is a broken heart. Repair it, and then get right back up on that platform. Because the real people who have heart and courage are the ones who follow their heart.