“You want to start watching wrestling just because a guy likes wrestling?”
My then best friend, Danielle, stared at me with confusion. She actually enjoyed wrestling and watched it regularly. She was into those sorts of things. Wresting, other sports. Any other time these things came up, she was usually the one talking, not me. I had no interest in it. But here I was asking her to teach me more about it. And when she asked why I wanted to know, I don’t think she was prepared for the answer.
“Yeah. Mr. Cox said he likes wrestling and I want something to talk to him about.” I replied plainly.
You see, my middle school was a typical catholic school. Uniforms, a couple nuns. However, the principal did the cishetero women and girls hitting puberty a ton of favors when it came to hiring substitute teachers. For some reason, they were always attractive, seemingly straight men between the ages of 23 and 30. In this case, Mr. Cox was the fresh meat in the hallways. Needless to say, his name alone made for some inappropriate jokes at a lunch table surrounded by giggling, 7th grade girls. My crush on Mr. Cox wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It was not unusual for children my age to have crushes on their teachers. He was never inappropriate with students. Just nice. And very very cute. My logic at the time was when you liked a person, you found things to talk about with them. He mentioned wrestling while talking to us casually after school and I figured I’d do my homework on it. But to my poor young heart’s dismay, my efforts on seeming more interesting to this grown man were in vain. He actually started dating a classmate’s older sister. I googled him once while I was in high school. He gained weight and lost his hair.
But Mr. Cox’s glow down isn’t the point of this. Let’s return focus to my conversation with Danielle and my motives behind my new found interest in wrestling. I don’t think I need to explain that my wanting to know more about wrestling was full of shit. As stated before, I truly did not care for it. But its what I thought would make me seem more desirable to this person that I desired. I wish I could say that as I got older I realized just how stupid this thought process was. Danielle was fortunate enough to be aware of how stupid it was way back then. She even told me, “thats dumb” after I explained the reason behind my sudden interest. But alas, I would continue to think this way for years to come. Whenever a guy I liked would show interest in a specific kind of girl, if I didn’t fit that mold, I’d force it. I’d change. I’d try to be motherfuckin Mystique to get his attention. I’d adopt ideals that I truly didn’t believe in just to be more likeable. Today we call these types “pick me”s. You know them. You might be one. The “cool” girls. The girls the proclaim that they “act like guys” and are “different from other girls” because they like sports, cook, clean, suck dick for 198765 hours straight AND swallow, don’t need to have money spent on them, will pay another woman to fuck their man while they watch because it doesn’t bother them at all. All the things “other” women won’t do because we’re difficult.
But I’m here to tell you that being THAT girl is TRASH.
As an adult going through my pick me phase, the results always ended up in my acceptance of treatment that I did not deserve. Always bare minimum bullshit. Because at least I was picked, right? Wrong. Even if I got the attention I was craving, it was never for long and never healthy. Being “different” had me in situations with men that I didn’t want or need to be in. I mean, I was a side bitch for 4 years. That nigga had two full relationships with two different women and me NOT being picked on the side. Why did he “keep me around” though? Because I was “different.” Translation: You’re dumb enough to do, say and be whatever I need/want at the time that the women I’ve committed to have enough dignity to say no to. And me, being insecure, unaccepting of my true self and afraid of reject, took what I could get just so that I wouldn’t be alone.
At some point though, I realized that being a pick me wasn’t doing me any favors. Sure, I was getting dick but I wasn’t getting respect, love, or the kind of treatment I wanted and deserved. So why not just be myself? If i’m going to be alone, I might as well be the type of person I actually fuck with since thats who I’ll be spending most of my time with. I had to stop playing the role of a fool for the sake of being cool. And it’s been working for me. Has it been easy? Hell no! Some of the best dick I’ve encountered has been attached to the worst kind of men. And there are times when I’m just plain lonely and want to feel wanted even if it is a lie. But has it been worth it? Yes. Because more often than not, I feel better about myself now. I’ve learned that there will be people that will accept me for my true self and I don’t need to go chasing after anyone. I’ve learned to articulate what I want and do not want. I’ve also learned to pause and reflect on whether or not what I thought I wanted is still what I want and if it’s not, I’ve learned to accept that it is ok to change my mind and walk away from situations that no longer feel positive for me or the other parties involved. This goes for platonic and romantic relationships alike.
Learning to love yourself and being okay with just yourself won’t happen over night. But its a journey worth taking. I’m in no way shaming anyone that does like to suck dick for a million hours straight and swallow. If that is truly what makes you happy, then go for it! But I encourage you to consider the reasons why you do or say things. Is it truly for you? If not, don’t do it or say it. You’re enough just as you are. You will be loved just as you are. You can be happy just as you are.