Time to check some emotional baggage.
So I’m watching some YouTube today and a video about one-hit wonders pops up. As I am watching it I’m realizing how many of these videos I’d never actually seen. So I do the only logical thing…I start opening tabs for each of those videos. Save Tonight, 1 Thing, I Love It, Teenage Dirtbag…
Oh. Teenage Dirtbag. That’s a song that I can identify with. Where was this song as I was going through high school?
A little history about me. I was the high school kid that everyone knew was poor. I wasn’t the coming-to-school-in-dirty-clothes-and-malnutritioned poor, to be sure, but I was definitely in the free lunch category. And I was never the popular kid. I had a small, close group of friends, most of whom I felt I could trust with my deepest, darkest secrets…like this week’s crush or that I stole a $4.95 book from Borders at the mall. And that was almost always the case; no matter where I moved, I always had a small group of 3-4 people I really considered dear.
Except Oregon. Fuck Lakeview. Bad attitudes, few amenities, and no view of a fucking lake anywhere. But I digress.
Within those groups of friends, I was consistently the Casanova. This was more a result of circumstance than anything I did, but it held true for most of my teen years. Need an example? In Palmdale, I lived in a small apartment complex on Ave Q-14 or some shit. My best friend there was named Morgan. Every girl I “dated” was actually just trying to get to Morgan. Morgan was too busy with his little sisters and taking care of his family, so young ladies would talk to me in hopes of getting close to him. I knew what was up and didn’t complain. In Indiana, it was Kent. Kent had the job, the car, the stable home life…but was either fixated on the wrong girl or too shy to pursue the right one. I was never too shy…about anything…and never fixated on the wrong girl.
Or was I?
Honestly, I was just opportunistic. I had some great high school relationships. But they all relied heavily on building a persona around who I was. There was a Mormon girl who loved my absolute obsession (genuine) and my bad-boy tendencies (fake). Another was infatuated with my careless, fun-loving, I-don’t-care-who’s-watching attitude (genuine) and my ability to empathize with her broken home life (fake…it would take years for me to deal with my own). How about the young lady that loved my experimentation with her “pleasure” (genuine) and my confidence (fake). Finally, there’s the lass that appreciated my affection (genuine) and my ideals of a future family (fake). I molded myself into what they wanted me to be.
How does this all relate to the amazing Teenage Dirtbag song by Wheatus? Just like the song, I felt invisible to ladies if I was just myself.
And this carried on into adulthood (duh). And not just with women and affectionate relationships, but with other friends as well. I always felt that no one would like me for me. So I just wasn’t myself.
Yeah, I know…”No one even knows themselves until they are in their late 20’s”, right? Well, for me that was really more the mid-30’s. By then I’d already been married, had two children, been divorced, and then remarried.
And then, in 2012, another child was on the way.
I love my wife. She’s everything I could have hoped for when I was young; she’s beautiful, sexy, driven, an amazing parent, caring for all she interacts with, good with money, an outstanding boss for her subordinates, and crazy enough to rewrite the DSM V. And with the exception of that last one, nothing like me. We don’t even really have much in common. In fact, the greatest aspect of interest we share is my adoration for her and her ego’s desire to be adored. We’ll watch TV and movies together. We’ll eat together. And we’ll socialize together. But we don’t do much else together. Most importantly, I haven’t morphed myself for her. Sure, there’s things about me she doesn’t like. But I don’t hide it. I’m just me…flaws and all.
There’s so much I still carry around from those teenage dirtbag days. So much doubt. So many memories of all the relationships I’ve unintentionally sabotaged, whether or not they would have worked. And it took leaving all that behind to finally be happy in a relationship.
Keep learning…especially about yourself.
Stay safe,
DBD/DBAD/DFTBA
-Amos