This afternoon, on the way out the door, Jenny grabbed her giant tube of Watermelon Lip Smackers. She offered it to me. I have a thing for Watermelon Lip Smackers. I’ve had this “thing” since 7th grade. Why do you think my daughter was introduced to Lip Smackers in the first place? Watermelon Lip Smackers is slippery, sweet and slightly pink. Being an innocent teenager is all those same things. Or at least it used to be. I smeared some on my lips, and suddenly I’m wearing Hash jeans, my hair is really long and straight, I’m 13 and I’m staring at Greg Nickels.
I had a crush on Greg from 7th grade to, probably, my senior year. I have a hard time giving up — hence, the amount of time it took me to exit a crappy marriage. In 9th grade, Greg Nickels asked me to go to “The Dance”. I was beside myself. All the girls told me that he really liked me. I didn’t believe them. It was the night of “The Dance”, and he came to pick me up with this cute little corsage. We were standing on the deck of the apartment that my mom was renting at the time. I remember this vividly. There was a slight breeze, and the air smelled like a mix of carnation, watermelon, aftershave and exhaust from the refinery that wasn’t far from our apartment building. He helped me pin the flower on my sleeveless dress. High up at my shoulder, he reached beneath the strap, so as to keep the pin from piercing my skin. I remember a bit of fumbling and a lot of nerves and clumsiness, on both our parts. Then, he looked as if he might kiss me. He was actually bending toward me! No one else was around. This was it! I had been waiting for this moment since 7th grade! I panicked. Instead of leaning into the kiss, I turned my face, and his lips met with my cheek. That sent him a clear message that I was not interested, even though I had been interested since what seemed like forever.
The rest of the night was uncomfortable and awkward, to say the least. In fact, I don’t remember the night with the same detail that I remember the corsage-pinning part. On Monday, everybody kept asking me why I didn’t like Greg any more. What was I going to say? I wasn’t going to admit that I didn’t have a whole lot of experience in the kissing department, let alone all the stuff in the other departments. So instead of being honest, I played it cool. He never asked me out, again.
Now it’s not like I’m 47 years old and still kicking myself for not having made out with Greg Nichols when I was 15. I’m not going to my death bed wishing I had handled things differently. (I think.) In fact, if I was 15 right now, standing in front of him, I’d turn my cheek again. And, yes, I will expect Jenny to behave the same exact way when her Greg Nickels leans in for that kiss. (Like that will make any difference to Jenny, but I can hope.) But I am less inclined to let opportunities pass me by. I’m fine making a fool of myself if it means I have a chance at something fantastic. I made the difficult decision to end a miserable marriage so as to have a chance at an authentic, happy life.
I’m finding that the older I get, the less I’m willing to put up with crap. I can’t control how others act, but I can decide whether I want to remove myself from situations where I am treated poorly. I’m also finding that, with age, I care less about making a fool of myself — much to my kids’ chagrin. I will not be on my death bed wishing I had told the people I love how much I love them. I won’t be wishing I had stayed longer in a lousy job. I won’t be feeling like I should have spent more time with my kids. And I won’t be mad at myself for having stayed in a broken marriage. I may, however, ask to borrow Jenny’s Watermelon Lip Smackers.
Tags: divorce, humor, life, love, narcissist behavior, NPD, proactive, survive
