Saturday, October 20, 2007

I'm not one of those women

You know the ones I’m talking about. Those women who seem to have it all together when it comes to men. The ones that never seem to struggle with whether to call a guy after several days of not hearing from them. The ones that never blame their lower stomach pudge or unrelenting arm jiggle for the lost interest of a man. The ones that don’t have to struggle to act aloof and mysterious. The ones who have probably never wondered if they’ll ever find someone, or if they’re destined to be ‘fun aunt [insert your name here]’ for the rest of their lives. These are the women who don’t secretly get upset when they walk past a group of construction workers without so much as a hoot or whistle.

I’m not one of those women.

I’m the woman who has been known to trace the path of her lover’s hand over her body, just to gauge how much fat he just felt. I’m the woman who has had full-out internal battles over whether she should call her new boyfriend at 12 am because she knows she should wait until he calls her first, but also wants to feel his arms around her while she falls asleep. I'm the woman who just had a very hard time admitting that she wants to feel her boyfriend's arms around her when she falls asleep. I’m the woman who knows that, as an one of this generation’s enlightened 20-somethings (I fully intend to use that ambiguous phrase for as long as I possibly can), you aren't supposed to fixate on the fact that everyone around you is getting married and having babies. You're not supposed to think about all the bridesmaid dresses you have to buy and all the showers, engagement parties and weddings you'll have to attend ALONE. You're not supposed to flinch as you field an endless line of questions about why a “pretty, successful girl like you doesn't have a boyfriend?” I’m the woman who will answer internally, “ummmm, I DON’T KNOW. What do you really expect me to say to that, stupid-face: Oh, well I would be in a relationship if it weren't for my [insert the name of some awful, disfiguring, contagious disease]. Now, please excuse me while I go get drunk" to these malicious questioners, while externally rambling about the endless string of men she is dating, and explaining how her life has never been more fulfilling since she passed up a Vice President position at an international communications firm to start her own business. Blah. Blah. Blah.

I’m the woman who wants to appear to others like she has it all together when it comes to men.

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