Boys Are Dumb

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, a lot of it has been political, so I won’t share that for fear of being lynched.

However, some of that thinking has led me to the topic of today’s blog.

As with most that suffer with anxiety, we have terrible thoughts pop into our heads at a moment’s notice. Just the other day I went from thinking about this epic surprise anniversary gift I made for Eric to thinking about how the camper we have our eyes on might not be there tomorrow.

(P.S. we most likely have a camper to move into within the next few weeks/days!!)

So, in my random thinking I came across something:

Has any guy ever liked me? (You know, aside from the obvious one).

This is the part of this post where I ramble on about how creepy I was as a teenager, so you might want to turn away if you have a sensitive moral code, or dignity.

As with most 90’s kids, I went through my emo phase. However, my emo phase was unlike most.

My mom never let me wear makeup. It wasn’t a harsh thing, she just didn’t want me to think I needed it, anyway, that meant I didn’t have eyeliner till I was…maybe 18?

Therefore, I didn’t have any kind of makeup on my face and never wore the stigmatized eyeliner explosion. Also, I wasn’t allowed to wear mini skirts (and other things, but this particular piece of clothing is important). My mother believed in modesty, which is totally understandable and something I still strive for even within my marriage.

My emo phase was mostly comprised of writing depressed poetry, listening to My Chemical Romance on high blast , and using my Bitchy Resting Face syndrome to the best of my ability. Hm, now that I think about it, I guess I’m still in my emo phase.

With all of this in mind, know that throughout my emo phase, I was  also heavily involved in my church’s youth group.

That’s right. Every Wednesday like clockwork I would go to church and genuinely worship my heart out next to my friends, all the while beating myself up for wanting to wear eyeliner.

I did have this one mini skirt. It was a hand-me-down from a family friend and it was black and stretchy with one of those waistbands that folded down. I loved the thing and would sometimes sneak it into youth group. I was only bold enough to wear it as an actual skirt one time, otherwise it was usually worn as a tube dress over  a long sleeve shirt and jeans. Yes, you read that right. I would basically wear a “dress” over another outfit entirely because I was trying to stay modest. Goodness I wish I had a picture to show you, but maybe it’s better to let your imagination wander, it’ll probably be more accurate.

What does this have to do with boys, you ask? Well, I wanted to give you the context before I told you about the two most memorable crushes I ever had (and if you two are reading this, which I highly doubt, I apologize).

Crush 1 Wrestlemania: This guy was cute, I mean really cute. At this age, he hadn’t realized that he needed glasses so he was always squinting, and I loved that for some reason. Anyway, he was part of my church home group and when the adults would have their Bible study at his house, the kids would retreat to his room and play video games. He was funny, charming, and an all around nice guy. But, like most middle school crushes, if a guy can make you laugh and has at least one cute attribute, you go in for the kill. So one day, over IM (yeah, I know) I told him how I felt. He then proceeded to let me down gently and never talk to me again. We’re friends on Facebook now, but he doesn’t interact with me at all. Now he’s a wrestler and in awesome shape, but is in a serious relationship with a girl that looks like a supermodel compared to me. Oh well.

Crush 2 Bibleman: (For those of you who don’t know, Bibleman is an actual “superhero” that spews Bible verses to the evil doers he fights. His armor consists of the Armor of God, i.e. the Breastplate of Righteousness and all that jazz. Go ahead, Google him, I could NOT make this up.) So Bibleman was the brother of one of my best friends growing up. She had 5 brothers and sisters. My brother was friends with her younger brother so we would always double up on play dates. That meant that I was not only playing with my friend, but ogling Bibleman from afar. I call him Bibleman because he was a super religious pastor’s kid and even went to a Biblical Institute for a few semesters. I have no idea what he’s doing now. Just to elaborate, I have NO idea what attracted me to this guy. He never talked to me and I don’t remember finding anything particularly attractive about him, but for some reason,  I was hooked. So one day, during youth group, I got up the courage to write him a note (sensing a theme here?) about how I felt. I remember specifically writing something like this at the end of it “don’t tell your parents about this until we can talk and figure this out on our own.” Guess what he did? My mom got a phone call the next day and seemed really concerned. “Mrs.Bibleman says you wrote her son a letter. Do you want to talk about it?” The first thing out of my mouth was ‘UGH! He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!!” So after a long talk with my mother in my brother’s bedroom (for some reason) I went on Habbo for the rest of the night and forgot it ever happened. I still have this weird connection to him even though, like I said, we never talked (and still don’t).

Crush 3 Douchebag: This did not happen during my emo phase, but my first awkward year of high school.I felt it important to note because it’s scarred me since it happened. So Douchebag was part of the popular crowd and ganged up on me with the others when playing jokes and tricks on me. I guess I was an easy target, who knew. Anyway, I tell the wrong people I have a crush on him big time. It gets spread like wildfire without me knowing and one day I find a note in my locker. I don’t remember what it said, but I remember my name was spelled wrong. I was all flustered and he was playing along, looking at me from across the room, telling jokes and making me laugh, and winking at me, you know, like a douchebag. After about a week, I had accumulated several notes, but noticed my name was always spelled wrong. I don’t remember how it happened, but somehow I found out it was a joke and he wound up telling me to my face that I was annoying and to leave him alone right before Algebra class. I don’t remember much after that, but I do remember getting a text from him that quoted a song about how it was too late to apologize. I wish I could remember what it was (not the One Republic song). Plot twist: he wasn’t even the one writing the notes. All of the popular kids ganged up on me and planned the whole thing out, then proceeded to make fun of me for it until I graduated. He’s now married to a girl he met in high school during junior year.

Those are the most memorable of my crushes. I had never gone on a date with a guy prior to the man who later became my husband, and I was never pursued by anyone aside from him. But because of all that rejection, I could never tell when a guy liked me, or if they even did. Especially since I was practically engaged during my entire college career. I guess I’ll never know.


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