Why do men (and some women) just assume that since I am a woman, I wear makeup and sometimes I’ll let you catch me in a dress or cry in a movie, that I automatically have what I refer to as “PARG” (Puppies and Rainbows Gene)? You know who I’m talking about- Those girls who automatically see their life as a chick flick. They fall for guys that don’t even notice them, have a need to talk incessantly about *fill in ridiculous subject here* and constantly fill their lives with the emotional and mental equivalent of…well… puppies and rainbows! They have dreams of puppies, babies, big houses and white picket fences. They go from boyfriend to boyfriend to boyfriend to fiancée to husband. They can’t seem to wait one more day for their white knight to come riding in and whisk them off in to the sunset. Yeah, I’m not that girl.
First of all, let me just say, outside of a ridiculously short list of movies, the only ones that really tear me up usually involve the death of animals, because I’m pretty ambivalent toward people. I get offended when I tell someone that and he/she tries to ‘prove me wrong’. I think I know me better than you do.
I just think it’s fairly misogynistic to think that just because I pee sitting down, I inherently wait around all day for my future husband to show his face. Just because that Y chromosome didn’t want to come out and play when I was conceived, I am supposed to be trapped in a never-ending spiral of thinking about when I’m going to get married and how many children I want and where I want to raise them. I’m sorry, but I’m just not that girl.
I don’t have some deep-seated fear of men or commitment. I never had a weird uncle touch me in my *special* place that screwed me up regarding relationships later on in life. I had a wonderful female role model, and if anything, TOO MANY wonderful male role models. I tried when I was younger to blame my lack of interest in ‘matters of the heart’ on my parents’ divorce, but the truth is, because of their divorce, I had a BETTER view of men. If they had stayed together, I would have been REALLY screwed up!! The only conclusion I’ve come up with is that the PARG skipped me. I’m just not interested. That isn’t to say I won’t settle down one day, but I don’t have some inner ‘need’ to be with one person for the rest of my life. I don’t have some inner ‘need’ to make ten babies (or even one). I don’t have this unexplainable ‘passion’ toward any one person in particular and I don’t sugar coat my words to feed others’ egos. I’m brutally honest and sometimes that means calling the baby ugly.
I’m not hiding an ‘inner girly girl’ deep within my walls. This is just me. I feel like sometimes people like to pretend they know me. They spout out all these things about relationships and being hurt in the past and reaching deep down and seeing the ‘real’ me. I try insanely hard to not be offended by these words and ones like them. This is the ‘real’ me. If you are waiting for the Cinderella version of me that resembles a maiden in distress, you might want to move on to a woman that the PARG didn’t skip.
I’m not sitting around waiting for someone to ‘save me from myself’ because I, honestly, don’t think I need that kind of saving.