As far back as I can remember, I have had no problem relating to girls. They've been my closest and (for at least a third of my life) best friends. In kindergarten, there was Amanda, a girl with whom I played house. In sixth grade, there was Tracy, whom I briefly dated, although I seem to recall that that ended with me in tears. In ninth grade, there was L., who was and is one of the coolest people I know. By tenth grade, I was tight with Rachel, one of my constant phone friends of late. And once I moved to Alabama, I hooked up with Daphne G, a truly beautiful girl who is constantly lost in her own semi-self-induced haze. And presently, there is Nut-Meg, a person I find fascinating for a great number of reasons, one of which is her persistent hilarity.
Boys, on the other hand, are a completely different story. I have almost always had trouble relating to them, for reasons that are as deceptively simple as my irrational hesitation toward public speaking (namely, I fear not speaking in complete sentences, which makes me pretty damn grammatically anal-retentive. Apparently I argue grammar with myself in my sleep if you have any lingering doubts that need to be put to rest.): boys intimidate me because they control a significant part of my emotional response. This is one of the reasons I know I'm gay. It's the whole 'why Ed never talked to Carol back in high school' thing, only directed at Mike instead. I always wanted special (read: sexual) relationships with boys, even if I wasn't always able to articulate or understand that.
In kindergarten, there was Billy, the little boy down whose shirt I used to constantly put sand. In sixth grade, there was Ryan, who was as shy and quiet as I tried to be, in a completely inoffensive way, and whom I recall liked the St. Louis Cardinals. In ninth grade, there was Tommy, the guitar-playing guy who shared my Beckman-Clark-Beckman-Powell-Beckman Torture Camp of an English Class for Freshmen and talked longingly of...girls, probably. Sigh. Tenth grade brought a whole new world of fear and intimidation when my gay ass moved to the redneck capital of the world, Alabama. I spent practically the entire time terrified that someone (some boy) would discover the shocking truth. Now there are legions of quasi-intimidating college boys, but it doesn't matter as much to me anymore, not least because I'm off the market.
I left out lots of boys, particularly the ones with whom I had real, live friendships and the ones with whom I had real, live psuedosexual relationships, regardless of poor execution, because once I related to them on a personal level I stopped perceiving them as threats. That's probably the real issue. The boys were threatening because they were a giant question mark. I didn't care whether girls knew my desires, but if the boys found out they might kick my ass, not that the grammar thing hadn't already given them reason enough.
Things aren't much different now. I still go into fight-or-flight mode any time a random boy talks to me, which makes checking groceries incredibly difficult because there are lots of hot boys with whom I am forced to converse. One would think that dating the guy who's been called the sexiest man in town would do something to assuage this, but I'm dating him and I still tense up around other boys, so I guess one would be wrong, except that at least I know I've got the hottest thing going already waiting for me when I clock out. That's different though, because, again, he's not a question mark or a threat. He's my boyfriend.
Girls are still safe, though, which is why I think nothing of chatting up the Teen Girl Squads who parade past my register. One of the other cashiers even got a third party cashier to inquire about my relationship status, all seventh-grade-cheerleader style, which I happily replied was 'in a serious relationship.' Then a fourth party cashier called me Rob. Then Nut-Meg and I went to McDonald's and got milkshakes from the drunk lady and all was right with the world.
Someone got here by searching for: "family dog"+"riding her"
Reading: I got yet another book from the library that probably won't get read. Listening to: Poor, poor rain-related tire performance. Watching: Various and sundry Law & Order episodes.
