When did we decide we wanted to catch cooties instead of run away and vaccinate ourselves from them? I don't know that I ever fully understood any of that. I was the girl next door who played baseball and basketball and tackled the boys in football. I thought cooties were stupid and I didn't understand why my girlfriends got all grossed out when a boy touched them, or why they thought my friendship with Garrett Anderson was so weird. Maybe that's why I never got acclimated to the cootie catching stage.
I think too, that's why I identify with Peter Pan. He doesn't believe in cooties, he just thinks Wendy is wonderful, and wants her to be with him forever and tell him stories and love him...even though he's not capable of ever loving her back. That's where I differ from Peter. I would be great at loving someone back. So I guess there, I'm more like Wendy. I don't want to grow up, but I know I have to, and part of me really wants to be a mother someday. That's about where my similarities with Wendy end. I would much rather be out with Peter fighting pirates and indians than stuck in the kitchen while the boys have all the fun. I don't fit with Peter because I'm not a boy, and I can't stand to be Wendy, the "angel in the home." I don't fit in any mold. People say that's a good thing, they make movies and write books in which the hero is this unique person who never compromises their beliefs and triumphs over all the negative people and events in his life because of that. In real life? Those Unique people are trampled on and pressed to fit in a mold their friends and family understand.
Personally, I love who I am. I love to cook and bake and I like to keep things orderly (most of the time). I love people, and I have a tendency to be very protective over my closest friends and family. I love little kids, and sometimes I'm most blissfully happy when I'm babysitting or playing with my cousins.(Wendy, right?) and I mean, I like boys, I think boys are wonderful, they just don't seem to have a similar opinion of me. I'm still the athlete, I'd rather watch Syracuse Basketball than the Bachelor any night and I tend to hide my true feelings from all but a few very close friends and my family. I love camping, in a tent, with a kayak in the middle of nowhere. I love to have long meaningful conversations with people, and just sit and listen to music and read poetry and drink tea/coffee/good beer with good friends. I love the rain and the way it makes me feel new and the way it inspires me to write.
I don't like the color pink (though I'm told it looks good on me) and I'm told I shouldn't be so opposed to it because that isn't feminine. I've been called a "boy" or "too much like a boy" by my friends and I haven't been on a date, in well...6 years. (and even then, it wasn't a great date) But then I'm not sure I agree with them on what's girly, or even if what's "girly" is the way I should act.
But When I think about myself and how I view myself, I don't understand why boys aren't interested in pursuing me. And I question if I should change and become that pink wearing, nail polished, bachelor watching girl. Why, when my best guy friends have a formal, I'm not invited, but my other girlfriends are. Dad says, "they want to take girls they want to date"...and why isn't that me? and how come, they aren't just taking girls they want to date, but girls they are "just friends" with and not me? Why I've been single all of my "cootie desiring" life. But I don't want to be that pink girl. It's not me, and if there's one thing I hate, it's being fake. But still I find myself asking, Why?
And I think it boils down to this. I think Cooties are stupid. I know, everyone says that, but do they really mean it? The 7 year old girl that giggles when a boy tries to hold her hand and says "ew he's trying to give me cooties" secretly loves the attention. I was never the girl boys wanted to give their cooties to (with the exception of this one kid who proposed to me in kindergarden and 1st grade...then asked for the ring back so he could give it to someone else in fourth grade. and he was pretty gross. I just took the ring cause i thought he would leave me alone...it didn't work)
But basically I never really understood the whole coy thing, I never understood being all giggly and silly because I never was that way. and maybe that makes me less feminine but I don't think so. I look at the Proverbs 31 woman and i hardly see her as the giggly, pink wearing, bachelor watching type. She's strong, loving, knowledgeable, a strong business woman, witty (i like to think) compassionate, a perfect match to her husband. She's the kind of woman who bakes snacks for the superbowl and then sits down to watch the game, actually understanding what's going on.
The problem? Why men don't see me as that woman yet? why I'm "just a friend"? I think they are still in the cootie catching phase, it's more about the thrill of the chase, the "adventure" as my dad puts it. They're not looking for the girl to settle down with yet, they might think they are, some of them might have even been lucky enough to have found her, but the others are running around trying to hold hands and get a giggle out of a girl. I think a third stage comes later, when they stop believing in cooties, when they are happy to just be with that one person, and aren't trying to catch their cooties or vaccinate themselves against them. but for now, they're in the cootie catching stage. They know I'm not the giggly type (I must give out some "you're going to have to try harder than that to flirt with me" ferimone) and they aren't ready to bother. At least that's what I tell myself. I hope I'm right on some level and not doomed to be single because I don't fit the mold.
I could be wrong on this whole cootie thing, but I'm pretty sure my problems with men can be summed up with this lovely example of my childhood. We were at the zoo on a first grade field trip, and I asked Mark Evans if I could talk to him in private. I brought him over to this little waterfall thing, and I told him I liked him and he ran screaming and hid behind his aunt who asked what was the matter. "She likes me" he said with disgust. "So?" said his aunt smiling at me, I bet she thought I was freaking adorable. "So that's gross! She has cooties!!" needless to say I was rather embarassed. 3 years later, when we played his team in soccer, my team hadn't won a single game, (mark and I had been on the same team the years before) and I bet him that we would win. Well, that game I had to play goalie. I hated goalie. I was always afraid of the big ball hitting me in the head, and of being the reason my team lost. I much prefered to play forward or middie and be the one scoring. But anyways, I played goalie. and here comes mark evans with the ball and saved it! my only save ever! (also I never played goalie after that so I never let them in either) and we won the game. Only game we won all season. take that mark evans. ...but that's how i am, i'm the girl who makes bets i'll kick a boys butt, and follows through. I want a man to love me for that. but I havent found one yet that hasn't run screaming.
I think I'm awesome just how I am, (and humble too) but it gets to be exhausting to be last picked everytime when you know you have the skills to be first pick. (i also have this issue when playing frisbee with boys... i tend to blow them away with my talent...i hope a similar situation occurs when I get married ;) ) You wonder what you're doing wrong, if you look weird or if someone told them something about you... I hope that I can find the right man, who recognizes I'm not a boy, and while I'm a good friend, and love people, I can be an even better lover. Who sees my strengths and weaknesses and isn't repulsed by my cooties, and doesn't care that I'm not giggly and pink. Who loves that I will watch sports with him not to humor him, but because we share an interest in them. I just hope. and wait for the cootie stage to end.
Moral of the Story: Cooties are stupid.
