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| The beginning of my interaction with males on a daily basis in a good way. Before this time it was a world of verbal abuse. |
I am feeling better, so I thought I would turn back to the book I have been writing off and on for a couple of years. I think I got it to a point where I can send it to publishers. The thing is I was having trouble figuring out what category it belonged in. I really thought when I wrote it that it could be for the adult crowd. I asked some other people and they all compared it to the same Young Adult books. I decided to reread it and could barely get past the first chapters because I was so shocked at how it is the whining of a teenage novel. I realized once again that I know nothing about the realities of courtship. I don't like the game you have to play, but it seems to work. I still have the views of a teenager, getting my information from books like "Twilight", which I have realized is not the best source. That is the problem I have now. Those over-acted movies. Those whining teenage books are lost to me. I can't read or watch them anymore and I thought I was grown-up, when in fact I was just giving up.
I have had a very different interaction with the male sex then I think most girls have. I never felt sexy. I wasn't the one you would notice in a crowded room and I felt it very strongly, of course people were actively telling me how ugly I was every day, so what they said stuck. I kind of embraced being ugly, in as much as a young adult can, I worked really hard to develop other qualities that someone would like. I tried to be accomplished in a variety of subjects so I could talk to anyone. I tried to develop my talents even though I didn't feel much support in that area. The point is that I figured out that no man would approach me because he wanted to have sex with me. I have no sex appeal, but I seem to have something else that I am a safe girl to talk too. It seems to happen privately behind closed doors in a one-on-one situation. I am usually able to get the guy talking. You know it is amazing what peer pressure and group dynamics do to a person. I hate what sheep people can be. I guard against that because of what I saw. Males who would rather be caught dead then caught talking to me would opened up in a private environment. Well, as long as I was like a priest and kept their confessions silent, which I did. Who did I have to tell?
My first real hush-hush one-on-one happened with the neighbor boy. We went to the same schools. We were the same age, but really we did not hang out with the same crowd. Last week I talked about the constant verbal abuse and how it kept me indoors from the end of school. Well, I began riding my bike at night. It was a large beach crusier, black with gold rims. We lived on a cull-de-sax, so I would ride around it in a circle. Up one sidewalk follow the curve down the other sidewalk. One night I heard someone yell and since it was so late I figured it was for me. To my surprise it was the neighbor boy, Josh(all names has been changed) He wanted a ride on the handlebars of my bike. For me it was quite a joyful ride and memory that I keep close because it happened when I was the loneliest. He would see me out in the night through his window and come and join me. We hung out with the kids on the block and I interacted with Josh for years. I knew that school and in public were not the place to say, "Hi". I didn't care about that with Josh, it was a very dog eat dog world and he gave me the most wonderful conversations. It was when he got his car, a red Ford Mustang. He was worried about girls and family and everything under the stars. We spent hours in that car talking. I was dumbfounded by what my father said when he caught me sneaking into the house one night. It was really late and I knew I needed to get home, but Josh and I just couldn't stop talking. My Dad asked if there was going to be a problem, very seriously and I almost burst out laughing. Here my Dad was concern about the horrible things boys do to girls (from their point of view) and I knew that Josh had no intention of doing any such thing. I guess he helped groomed me to be a confidant. The wise friend that knows everything. The problem was that I didn't have any friends, not the type that I would confide in. I think I was pretty good to talk to considering I had none of the "normal" events of childhood. (I admit. My knowledge of normal is from TV, movies and books. I am sure no one had those experiences.) It was a terrible existence and if my parents had let me homeschool, I would have in a heartbeat. The thing is because I went to school I found my love of Theatre. Another place I have been heartbroken by boys more than once
Being apart of the drama department gave me acceptance, even if it was fake most of the time. I wasn't on top of the totum pole with the main actors. I was usually on the bottom as a townsperson. I know. How many parts are written for a young fat girl. No one wants to see that. I didn't mind being on the bottom rung, but we all have bigger dreams. I would get as close as I could to the group of people that would accept me at first glance, but because of the rehearsals and so much waiting, you tend to get to know everyone and they were from all walks of life.. I was apart of a group that had a purpose. All of these people were working to make a beautiful product and I wanted that to, so we got close.
That is the thing about me, if there is a purpose, a goal to reach then I will be an extrovert. I will get to know the people involved. Boss them around if it is my job. We will create the Masterpiece. I think, Wow, I made friends. These people like me. But in the end everyone leaves. Is that just the course of life? Is everyone alone and floating in a strange universe juice? I mean what I say. I become attached to people, but they disappear. Doesn't anyone else care enough to not let it happen? I would try with people. Call them on the phone, but they always started to avoid me and I won't be a burden. I take a hint and after I call so many times and don't get a return call then I know the almost friendship is over.
It was during the after party of my college play that I was introduced to the new "adult" way of having a party. Outside were the potheads sucking down the smoke. We were talking before they started and then out came the pot. Of course, they wanted me to join in, but I declined and moved into the living room where a bright blue drink was going around. It must have been powerful because everyone drinking it was three sheets to the wind, I mean falling on the floor drunk. I wasn't there for the vomiting. I moved to the front room to get some air. A couple of people were in there, apparently they had also had the blue drink and I saw that Kurt had needed to lie down. The other was a girl I did not have any emotions for one way or the other. I was/am so naïve. I didn't know about beer-goggles when I went to this party. I had talked and worked with these people for months. I did not know that alcohol makes me really attractive. I mean how confusing. Kurt was beautiful in a model kind of way. He had the kind of face you see in fashion magazines. I talked with him, but since he was very good-looking it was normal for another girl to squeeze me out. I didn't fight. So at this party I guess he was feeling sick and this other girl was taking care of him when I came in. I swear I didn't have any ulterior motive. I was way too dumb for that. I just knew a trick for headaches because I got them all the time. I asked if he wanted me to try it on him. It is a massage technique which means A) Our bodies were close and B) I was touching him. Something happens when you invade someone's personal space, at least it does to me, that is one of the reasons for my standoffishness. He told me I was beautiful. Luckily, I didn't believe it because of his drunkenness, I was cynical enough by that time. He gave me a sloppy attempt at a kiss. What do I do? He is drunk. We barely know each other and here he is trying to kiss me and telling me how beautiful I am. It was so out of place. I laid him back on the couch and went home. Can you imagine the flack and utter horror he would have felt having a fatty on his list? The thing is when men are drunk, someone I met very little, they ask me to sleep with them. And here I am in everyday life unnoticed by the opposite sex.
This is just two examples of my confusing and frustrating interaction with men. I have a lot more stories. The reason all of this came up is because I have always had a male to have deep conversations with. He was close to my age. He was apart of my church.(except for the neighbor boy) And for reasons I don't understand he let me into his life enough that we could have deep conversations that fed a part of my inner spirit. I don't have the younger male voice in my life anymore and I am starving for it.
I think like an extinct bird the guys that fill my list are gone. They all are married. I watched as all the young men I knew chose these Barbie dolls to marry. Girls that did not seem to know anything about hardship. Girls who hung on the man's shoulder afraid to mingle at a reunion. I couldn't stand it. The prettiest girls with no life experience were being picked while strong capable woman were being left behind. I became an old maid in my church by 27, the only men available had been divorced. I tried to be pretty at the end of those years. I dressed in beautiful clothes that fit my body and hide my flaws. I got contacts. Had my hair professionally done. I really was beautiful, but I was still fat and I watched as the last of the women got married. There are still some single women I know even in my middle-age and I guess there always will be.
The thing is now I don't know if I could get married. I don't know. It's just that the young men that were my friends stopped when they got married. With one person his wife seemed to be jealous of me when I came to visit and I never saw him again. I know the reasons. Time, work, but deep down he should be having the kinds of conversations that he is having with me, a harmless, nonsexual threat and have them with his wife. I just miss the conversations. Stolen moments from the rest of the rotten world.
And here is the kicker. Those males forgot who I was the next day, that's how bad it got or they wouldn't speak to me again. It was amazing. I found I would have to practically reintroduce myself after spending hours talking to them. I poured my heart and soul into the conversations, spent time, asked personal questions, could tell a stranger his mother's favorite flower and I was left holding the bag, wondering what I had done wrong once again. It always felt like my fault. It still does. And each time it happened I found myself getting more and more guarded. A terrible combination with my looks. I often think, "If only I was a nice fat person."
