High school was especially interesting. I had the personality of a 40-year-old with the body of a 12-year-old boy. (Maybe not really the boy part but that’s how it feels when you think everyone else looks like a coke bottle and you more closely resemble a ruler.) That was not exactly a winning combination. I never really had to worry about the boys falling head over heels. To be honest, I’m a little thankful for that lack of attention now. I, at least, never have to deal with losing that level of interest. I can imagine that change would be even more upsetting than never having it. But, trust, it sucked then. The only people who paid any attention were good friends who just seemed to realize I was a female. Very flattering. 
Eye of the Beholder: Late Bloomer
Friendly Drama: In Search of Platonic Male Friends
At my age, it seems I should be (and am) concerned with finding my next romantic relationship. However, sometimes/most times I wouldn’t mind just hanging out with a male friend without the quotation marks or hope of something different.
Friendly Drama: When I Didn’t Know Any Better
These ladies have known me for (nearly) half of my life. They’ve seen me fight, cry, yell, stare, run, and smile. We’ve seen each other through puberty, AP tests, custody battles, puppy love, first loves, college applications, driver’s licenses, parties, prom, and leaving all of that behind for college. We fell apart during those college years, casually seeing each other when we were all back home but it was never the same. And as sad as that realization may have been, there was still something that made us come back together (hoping). I always wondered what that was exactly. Obviously, we’d all changed and no longer had the classroom to force us together. What was it that made me still call her “my friend”? And actually mean it?
Romantic Cynic: Not the Type to Take to Prom
After realizing he’d have no choice but to be honest, he told me, “You’re not the type of girl to take to prom. You’re the type to marry.”….Well, okay then. What do you do with that? Knowing him and his interests, I had no choice but to translate that to mean I’m not the type to take out in hopes of immediate sex. I’m the type to actually date. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s actually a good thing. But where does that leave someone like me 7 years later? I’d like to believe that statement still holds true for me but are there new dimensions to add as I approach 25, not 18? At what point do girls/ladies/women like me start to become the goal and not the concern? And is there a middle ground for us? Does this type of statement mean you respect us but realize you’re not ready for us yet? Or that we’re more effort than you’re willing to expend in general? Or does it just sound like something a girl you’re not interested in should like to hear?
