Make Up Your Mind, Princess!

 I was recently invited out to lunch by a male acquaintance. Unsure whether or not this was a platonic or a romantic social encounter, I was understandably distressed over how to dress for the event. I tried on various combinations from my closet, even resorting to trying on my own mother’s jeans. A short skirt might give off the wrong impression. Leggings would probably be too hot and give off the ‘just friends’ vibe. A dress was too dressy and definitely let everyone know that I thought I was on a date. I finally made up my mind and settled on an old standby: jeans, tank-top, and flip-flops.

 I was to meet my acquaintance at his home and then he would drive us to lunch. This arrangement seemed fine, at first, until I realized that it was just ambiguous enough to maintain my confusion over the status of the meeting. Upon, arrival, I was greeted with a one-arm side-hug (more ambiguity) and then asked where I felt like eating. I was a woman lost. After mumbled platitudes of not caring where we ate (I’m a natural born Texan, I always care where I eat), and effusive reassurances that I love all kinds of food (I’m a natural born female, I am picky), my escort, for lack of a more accurate definition, settled on a local eatery. Half way through my lunch, umm, “date”, I realized I still had no clue what this man’s intentions or desires were when it came to taking me to lunch. I began to panic, seeing that my window of opportunity to figure it out was coming to a close. He asked genuine questions about my studies (definitely date behavior) and then dazed off to the TV hanging over the bar (definitely not date behavior). I didn’t bother offering to split the check, because whether or not I should, would add just another element of confusion to my afternoon. He opened the door to the restaurant, but not to the car…every positive was canceled out by a negative, and I kept coming up with zero!
 I lay in bed that evening wondering and pondering over the details of the day, dissecting bits of conversation, examining the smallest actions made, and analyzing various remembered facial expressions. And then my mind settled on the most profound conclusion: I didn’t want to date the man! He was nice enough, funny enough, and respectful enough…but somehow, he was just not enough. I had made up my mind. I fell asleep with the certain feeling of being totally self-aware, an air of smugness wrapped comfortingly around me, not unlike my favorite blue blanket.
 As a student of psychology, I am never content to just let sleeping dogs lay. All thoughts and emotions, realizations and conclusions, must be analyzed to the furthest extent so that their meanings and ramifications can be of the greatest benefit to an individual. I don’t have my license (yet), so I practice most often on myself and my closest girlfriends. I don’t charge them (yet) so it’s purely ethical, I assure you. My ‘date’ conundrum was cleared up, but it had left a bad taste in my mouth. I began examining why it had caused me such confusion and anxiety in the first place. I did my ‘research’. I read through two of my old filled-up journals and various emails from my girlfriends. I came to a startling, yet not completely surprising conclusion: my most successful and drama-free relationship was the one I had with my first boyfriend in high school. How could I be better at dating at age 15 than I was at age 24? Almost 10 years of wisdom and experience had to count for something! So I delved deeper and came up with an interesting little tid-bit of factual information…when my high school boyfriend asked me to ‘go steady’, I knew exactly what he was doing; he took me outside to sit on one our friend's hammock one night, listed all of the reasons he cared about me and then asked me to be his girlfriend. He had made up his mind and he knew what he wanted: me, as his girlfriend. And I knew exactly where I stood with that sweet boy. If men in their twenties had the guts of boys in their teens, girls like me would not have to fight off an ulcer from one lousy lunch!
 Prince Charming never asked Cinderella if she wanted to ‘come over and hang’ at the ball. Sleeping Beauty did not have to worry about whether or not one simple kiss would make Prince Phillip think she was easy. Snow White did not have to ride her own white horse to meet the man of her dreams. And well, Beauty was never worried that the Beast might have found someone more beautiful than her. I see clearly now that one of the most fantastic things about these fairy tales is that the princesses had always made up their minds about what they wanted, as had the princes. And that, boys and girls, is what I believe “Happily Ever After” is all about.

P.S.
Mr. Conundrum never called to invite me for another....well...whatever it was. And I've made up my mind...I'm completely ok with that.