On the plane from HK to SG, I watched the movie Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret. It’s based on a book by Judy Blume. I think I read this as a kid, because I remember that she was one of my favorite authors.
Anyway, it’s set in the past and kinda made me nostalgic, for both my childhood and that simpler era when we didn’t have the internet yet.
The main character, Margaret, is 12 years old and meets some girl friends, and they all get peer-pressured about getting their periods and boobs.
There is a funny scene of them chanting “I must I must I must increase my bust!” while doing some stretching exercises that supposedly help in that aspect.
I giggled because someone did tell me about this, too, back when I was a teenager, maybe? Not that I ever needed to do it because I was blessed with it – something that I didn’t realize until I was almost 18, actually, because for years I hid my figure in gigantic shirts, coz I was “fat” and hated my figure.
I wish I had better role models as a young person. The adults surrounding me were not, so I grew up being terribly insecure about my weight and my looks.
This, actually, is one of the main reasons why I’ve been single for so long. Another reason being my parents being so against on me having boyfriends while I was still in school, so I was never really encouraged to flirt and whatnot.
I did get a secret boyfriend in college, but he broke my heart. He was a terrible guy, btw, not just in looks but especially his personality. A lot of my friends could not understand what I saw in him. But I fell for him because as was mentioned in another book-turned-movie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower: “You accept the love you think you deserve.”
So I guess after that I thought I deserved nothing. And it’s been incredibly hard to get into it whenever people ask the inevitable question: “Why are you single?”
When I tell them this, they get confused, because I am not as hideous as I seem to think I am, but no matter what they say, when I meet a guy that I might be interested in, I always think, nah, he can’t possibly be interested in me. Why would he?
This sounds like a pity party, but really, I am just rambling, I’m not sad about it or fishing for compliments. I do know I am attractive… or sometimes I do. But never in the moments that matter, I suppose.
Recently, a girl I just met asked me if I was dating and I said not really, and she asked why not. “I just… gave up, I suppose.”
“Why, though?” she asked in incredulity. I recognized that reaction, it was the same one that came from lots of people.
“I just got… lazy, I guess. It’s too much trouble. I don’t know how to flirt,” I shrugged.
The last one is true. People say I am really good with people and making new friends but making new boyfriends – nope. I sometimes wonder if I am so good at being friendly that I friendzone myself.
So where even is this going. I guess I just missed writing!