Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Tonight we have a theme post: The first time I felt like an adult.
And before I could even think about it, my son Mike called me to say he was going to be honest and I might not want to read it. I told him I might read it or might not but I wouldn't gripe at him for being honest. He said Betty's planning on writing about a period and so he was going to write about something that might embarrass as well. I'm honestly fine with it. But I bring it up because someone's bound to read what he writes and feel the need to ask me, "What did you think?"
We raised our kids to be honest. There's nothing he's going to post that will make me embarrassed or ashamed. I might laugh or wince but I'll be fine with whatever it is.
The first time I felt like an adult was when I lied to my parents to go to a dance. I wasn't going to the dance. Well, I went. And I left.
For those who may be appalled (you never know), let me put a happy ending on it at the start, I was meeting up with the man that would later become my husband.
But my parents thought we were getting too serious. He was my second real boyfriend and they had encouraged me to date after the first one was break up hell. In part, they were fearing a second break up hell and, more importantly, them having to put up with my non-stop crying. But they felt I needed to see more than just one guy.
So I thought about it and thought about it and I didn't want to date anybody else.
It was homecoming and that was a big thing in my day. I was a cheerleader and all the others had their pretty little mums with ribbons. And there was my mum, to my surprise, being delivered and it was huge. We're talking nearly as big as one side of my face. With the biggest ribbon and all this school stuff on it. Everyone was impressed. Most of all me.
And I knew my boyfriend didn't have a lot of money to blow (like my family, his family was working class). So that just made me love him all the more. So he brings up the dance and I say I'll think about it. I talk to my friends and they're like, "What's to think about?"
So the game was a Friday (that's the day he asked me out to that dance) and the dance was the next day (Saturday). I got a ride with my mother and my brother was going to pick me up. So I dash in, find my boyfriend and we make for the parking lot and his Chevy. Then we drive out to the make out point and I was ready to do the deed and 'give it up' (lose my virginity) and thought that's what the plan was.
It wasn't. We kissed and kissed and then we stopped. And I start to unbutton my blouse and he tells me we're not going to rush things.
My first boyfriend (and two guys I'd sen while seeing my eventual husband) were all handsy, grabbers and I just figured that's how guys were.
So he was very different. And he just put his arm around me and we talked and talked about what we both wanted out of life (we got each other in the end, hopefully he's okay with that because none of our other plans ever came true). And I stopped feeling like maybe I was his girlfriend or getting nervous that maybe THIS WAS THE GUY!!! and instead just felt in my bones that we would be married. And we were. And we are. So that night was the first time I felt like a grown up.
This is C.I.'s "Iraq snapshot" for Wednesday: