Damn My Inexperience!

In June of 1999, I left my sheltered life in Texas and arrived at BYU to begin my academic career. Two weeks in, we were summoned to a church meeting where chastity was discussed. There were lots of acronyms used that I totally didn't get. (In fact, if it weren't for the urban dictionary I would still not get a lot of stuff.) One of the most commonly used was "NCMO." It took me 4.5 semesters to figure out what that was: non-committal making out.

You see, I went to college to take classes, learn, get a degree, be a productive member of society, etc. I knew boys existed because I would beat them when we played pool, hike with them when they asked, drive 12 hours one-way to camp in ravines, listen to them when their girlfriends broke up with them, etc. But, none of them ever asked me to dinner and a movie. If one of them had picked up the phone and frankly told me he was asking me out and we were going on a date, I might have looked at guys as potential kissing partners instead of this giant group of brothers.

I had no idea I would reach middle age and never have one male kiss me or ask me out to dinner. It has caused a great deal of....umbrage. I've even been labeled immature because of my lack of experience. Which I would like to point out is not my fault if no one wants to assist in my gaining experience of a certain nature. And I'm very much academically inclined. I ask questions. This is not in an attempt to analyze the male but because I literally do NOT know what someone is doing sometimes. It has been a source of great heartache because I don't know why men are not interested in me or why they behave in certain ways. If any man has ever been interested in me as a female, I never knew! because they never said anything or grabbed me like John Wayne and planted one on me.

Which leads me to another topic.

I love that my friends and family members have gotten married and have babies. They are beautiful boys and girls and I love them and am happy they have joined the party.

But, I have a really hard time when someone tells me they are pregnant or that they are getting married.

I really am happy for them. Really!

But, it's a really good thing no one can see inside my head. Because in the past 18 months it has begun to look a little like this.

You say, "I'm pregnant!"

I hear, "Nananana-boo-boo! I have sex on a regular basis and you don't!"

You say, "I'm getting married!"

I hear, "In x number of days, not only will I have permission to engage in sexual intercourse, I will be commanded to go forth and multiply. And you won't."

I believe it is the only thing about my biological clock that is ticking. Sister-in-law A put it best, "Human beings were not meant to reach a certain age celibate. There is a biological reason for marriage."

Damn the hormones!
Damn the idiot males!
Damn the wedding announcements!
Damn Christmas Engagement Ring campaigns!
Damn cell phones, texting, emails, FB, and other interfering busybodies who make communications even harder than they were 50 years ago!
Damn dating!
Damn!
Damn!
DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!