I just got off the phone with a couple of the gals from our girls weekend. I wanted to call them last night and hear the fun. But, then again, I knew I would hear the fun. And for me, that wouldn’t be much fun. I was looking forward to this weekend for the obvious reasons, but for other reasons as well.
You see, I don’t get along great with women. I never have. Maybe it is because of the neighborhood where I grew up. There were only a handful of girls. There was me and my sister. There was a girl who thought she was better then everyone else and only wanted to play once in a while. When she did play, she usually went racing back home screaming because one of us made her cry. She was just too easy a target to resist. Then there was my best female friend. She was the youngest of 6 kids and pretty much wanted to be babied. I didn’t do well with the babying thing. I never really wanted to play the same things she did, so although we got along great for the most part, I still didn’t understand her very well. Then we had our next door neighbor. In hindsight, she was probably in desperate need for some adult to just take her in and accept her. Her family was very bizarre. She kept to herself a lot. Even when we tried to get her to play, she usually did not want to. Those were the girls. That’s all. The rest were boys. Boys who ranged from Boy Scouts to Criminals and everything in between.
So, when it come to interacted and socializing, I learned most of that from guys. And let’s face it, guys and girls are NOT the same when it comes to how they interact with each other. I learned to be upfront. If you were acting like a baby, you were called a baby. If you looked like crap, a guy would look at you and say something tactful like “What happened to you? You look like crap.” This is how I learned to interact.
Then we moved. And I was thrust into the world of female communication. It baffled me to see that they would say one thing and mean another. That you could not take everything at face value. That how you looked was everything and character meant little. [Before you go getting irritated with me. This is a select group of females and I am specifically talking about the ones that I got to know when we moved. They were just girls. I am not saying all women are this way.]
So, it began my love/hate relationship. I still try to figure out some women and wonder how they think. I still usually get along better with men than women. I just feel more comfortable being myself. More accepted.
Then I met these women I was supposed to go out with this weekend. They are great. I mean, if I showed up 15 lbs heavier, no make-up and in ugly clothes, they would probably laugh at my fashion sense and accept me anyway. Not talk about me behind my back later. They are real. They are friends. And for the first time in years, I was going to go hang out with them. I miss them.
So if I seem selfish to be sad that I missed my weekend, forgive me. Maybe I am selfish. I just wanted a break and time to be just Me. Not anyone else. Nothing to anyone. Just Me. But as everyone has told me, there will be other weekends. I know. I know.