As I approach my 25th birthday, a whole quarter century, I’m compelled (maybe due to society, peer family pressure I don’t know) to think about what’s my life so far or at least everything that’s been accomplished. Living on my own yet? Check. Complete graduate school? Check. Gainfully employed? Not gainfully but I think it’s still a check. Married? Serious relationship? Dating? That check box is empty. No big deal, right? One would think that having 3 out of 4 boxes would be good enough; 75% is a passing grade last I checked… but unfortunately it’s the only box people seem to notice. It’s not their fault. I find myself caught up doing the same thing all the time. Actually, I’m fairly certain it’s all I’ve been doing since the second grade. Boys, boys, BOYS! Even when I’m in reality, which I switch to quite often, that I do not need a boy and absolutely love my single life, I still find myself checking out that intriguing boy across… whatever room I’m in.
When a boy (and I do say boy on purpose having not quite found a man yet) does a stupid thing and I honestly and truly find him repulsive, he still finds his way all up in my head leaving me pensive and pondering why I’m still thinking about him. Shameful. This would all be well and good if a boy- any of the millions of them over these years- found himself doing the same thing. But they don’t. Boys never do. They don’t think about anything, especially not the young women that stay up late talking to their girlfriends about them seeking out advice and a window into a boy’s mind. And even though I had never witnessed said window or anyone who had ever seen that window, I was hopeful there must be one.
Then one day, like most things that show up when you stop looking, I caught a glimpse of the window. And I saw it when a 39 year old man named Steve pulled back the curtain and showed it to me. This blog will rewind a couple months to my first meeting with Steve that turned into weekly meetings and then I’ll bring you up to our most recent “therapy session.” Sessions about his years of being a boy and what it all means. I realize that this means I am still spending a lot of time talking about boys, but I’m no longer going to deny or try to pretend I don’t do it. With such admission, I figure I might as well do it as healthfully as possible and gets some answers. Week after week I brought Steve my current situation with a boy and he would tell me what to expect or not to expect and take boy behavior and statements and translate it into women talk. Oh yeah ladies… I struck gold. And I’m sharing the wealth.
