First, let me just say, I will ALWAYS love that dang song. Britney Spears, your tragically messy life is a cry for help, but the Baby One More Time album, and “Crossroads” shaped my life. Lol.
Secondly, I am dead serious about the whole Finally Being a Woman thing, as well.
It seems like life is all about self realization and revelations of the heart. You make a mistake, you learn a lesson. You miss an opportunity, but create several for others. It’s a crazy ride, and for every thing you seem to come out of better, you deserve to be grateful…and you deserve to be proud.
I was talking to my older cousin Kirsten earlier today about relationships. She made a comment about how I never claim any of the guys I talk about. I explained to her that I am pretty much NEVER in a relationship, so claiming them would be a lie. I went on to explain that the guy I brought up is truly just my friend. I pointed out that although I originally felt something more for him, ultimately, he is Friend Zone material. He doesn’t have the capacity or guts, or balls, or courage or strength to tell me he cares about me as more. So basically, I figure he must not. After all, as I always tell anyone, when a guy REALLY wants something…he goes after it. It would be JUST my luck to get the one guy who is literally not going to. But, alas, I think this is just one of those “It is what it is” things. And I don’t mind.
Point is, I don’t take the initiative to do all that legwork for a man anymore. You know, back in the day, I was obsessed to the point of obnoxiousness with someone. And the interesting thing is, when I FINALLY snapped out of it….I realized I had kinda remixed him and made him into someone he pretty much never was…and most likely never will be. Best part is, I believe he and someone that is supposed to be one of my closest friends are lowkey shacking up. Not that I have time to warn her. I learned the hard way, and she watched the whole thing. Her bad!! Lol.
Anyways. When I really looked at it (without the rose-colored glasses), I realized that by mis-reading and mis-translating everything he said, I made myself believe maybe there was hope for this thing I wanted so badly to come to fruition. Maybe he was just being a wild man in his teens and twenties and gettin it it where and whenever he could! Maybe he was just scared to love me, because he didn’t wanna be different from all his single friends. Maybe he was waiting for me to change. Maybe I needed to change to be what he wanted, and what he needed.
But guess what? I was being absolutely RETARDED. For years, in fact. Hot mess. To the point where he knew what he could do and say to keep me hanging on, without making any promises that maybe I was just a little bit closer to having him and making him all mine.
Now, being completely honest with myself, I have to admit that no matter WHAT he did, I am the one who is responsible for the mess it caused. We probably still could have been friends, but I let the frustration and rejection kill a piece of me. The piece that had become a believer in something that seemed so real. It’s hard to accept that you created someone so desirable, rather than them actually existing.
So now, I go on about my life always thinking every guy is a little bit of a joke, until he proves otherwise. Trouble with that, is that between the amazing ones with girlfriends, and the coworkers who try to get in my pants before they go home to their girlfriends they LIVE with…it’s hard not to hold a bit of a grudge. But I’ve become unreasonably realistic since then. I evaluate what men do, and say, and their approach. If he grabs my ass before he even knows my name, you can believe I’ll act a fool. If he asks my name and buys me a drink, I’ll probably be mad he didn’t grab my ass.
It’s all kinda…well, all over the place. Lol.
But guess what? I’ve grown into someone who won’t be so enamored with a figment of her imagination that it ruins her. And let’s face it…that’s way better than being the girl that has her head so far up her ass that no one wants to grab it, regardless.