One night over drinks and pita chips, I suppose the sangria really went to my head because there I was, over-sharing about my “home girl” approach to defending my man and serving him like he’s king of the house. I might have said something like, “ I’ve seen the way I am when I really love someone and I’m so proud that I’m capable of that. When I’m in love, that’s my dude and I take care of him, I run a tight ship at home, and I don’t let anyone mess with him.” It’s some Blood In, Blood Out approach that I developed some time in the last ten years, perhaps motivated by having to deal with some trifling females.
The man sitting next to me happened to be someone that for a second I considered dating except I never really felt a spark to move it past friendship, and I’m sure neither did he. I think that after my speech he probably only heard “crazy-crazy-crazy.” Which is fine. But what threw me off was when he sent an email that night in which he felt he had to clarify that he didn’t want to mislead me and didn’t want anything serious.
I laughed because it was so presumptuous. I tried to think about what I may have said or done that would make him think that I wanted anything other than what was already there.
Then I thought, What’s so bad about me that someone wouldn’t want that?
And it’s a question I had already been asking myself for the past three years. Since my big, bad breakup, I’ve only made a few casual acquaintances (some too casual), but pretty much everything I throw to the wall eventually slides right off.
And even now, the thought doesn’t stop rattling in my brain like a lonely marble. And when I’ve thought it over enough times, I get fed up with it completely.
I’ve been so wrong to think that whenever some guy I’m crazy about doesn’t want me back as equally, then I’m the one who is deficient. I know this is the result of having been through that icky situation where I get really close to someone who talks about not wanting a relationship but then changes his Facebook status with the next girl.
I think plenty of us have been there an awful amount of times.
The closer I get to 30, and it’s getting pretty close, the more I want to make sure I enter that new decade without these concerns and insecurities. I want to regain a free-spirited nature so that I can easily maneuver right out of any ill-feelings.
I was told by several people (and Wikipedia) that between ages 27-30 is the Return of Saturn and I’m entering a new stage of life. Sometimes I feel it, even more so when I think about the things that will make me happy that have nothing to do with finding a boyfriend to torture. These days I’m looking very closely at my career and I feel like it’s a bull ride I’m about to take without a saddle. I’m not even all that scared. If I don’t take any risks, I will be wasting this precious time I have to do something different and daring.
Things are coming my way, and I’m also on my way to them, so the story doesn’t end here. This started with me sad about not being “girlfriend material” and culminates, for now, with me just making a genuine effort to be a better woman. I just want to be willing to admit to those vulnerabilities, as annoying as they are to say and hear.
Featured Image via DeviantArt