You know how there are some
girls who walk into a party scene and, every time, will inevitably be hit
on? Usually by multiple men, who happen
to be the more interesting and attractive men in the room, nonetheless. And then there are the friends of those
girls. The ones who only get the pity or
second choice dances. The purse/phone
holders of the world. The permanent wall
flowers whose unspoken job develops into that of wing woman. That’s me.
I’m always the “and this is my friend, Lisa” part of the conversation
that no guy really cares about. OK,
sometimes a guy will pay me some special attention. But when that happens, it’s by the odd
fellows I would rather avoid.
Over the years the kinds of
party scenes I occasionally attend have changed drastically, as have the
company I keep. But the dynamics have
remained the same. And I have no idea
why. Is it my friends? Do I just happen to choose the tall,
beautiful companions that I can’t begin to compare to? Or is it me?
Is it the way I dress? My
uncontrollable head of hair? Do I
smell? Do I make too much eye
contact? Not enough eye contact? Is there something about the way I carry
myself that makes me unapproachable? I
don’t know the answer. But it is clear
that I am invisible. Always. And that’s a really lonely place to be.
The worst part is that with
each passing year, my chances of meeting someone and starting a family
plummet. I count my blessings, believe
me I do. But there is always that nagging
thought in the back of my head that it is just not happening for me. I’m nearly 30 and I’m a never married, single
mother of a 5 year old. I work full time
and I am in grad school. My life is busy
so meeting men is hard and it seems just as difficult to meet men online these
days as well. When I do put myself into
social situations, I am reminded of my talent of invisibility.
The funny thing is that
nearly all men I’ve been with in my life, I had to throw myself at to be
noticed. Obviously, those relationships
did not work out successfully. Usually
their interest dwindled after so long.
And now that I am older, I am afraid that kind of behavior would reek of
desperation, which is even less attractive.
So what’s a girl to do? I guess if I knew the answer to that
question I wouldn’t be writing this post.
Alas, here I am. So world, won’t
you tell me?
