Scaredy Cat, No More.

"Men [as opposed to boys] know what they want and they don't let you in on their inner monologue, and that is scary." -Mindy Kaling

Or for this Girl, used to be scary.

I found myself saying to a friend the other day that I just wished that So and So could have seen the old me; the scared, non-committal, skiddish me. (I wanted 'Ol So and So, who had wrongfully judged my intentions, to be fully aware that the new me is still very new.) My friend responded by rolling her eyes and said, "Yeah, you've come a long way! You used to be scared to commit to a parking space for fear of being blocked in at a party where we both knew you would end up sleeping on the couch."

It was an embarrassingly true statement. I used to be scared. Of everything, including (but not limited to) parking spaces, lunch decisions and commitment to relationships of any kind. When I got my first (and only) tattoo my friends who accompanied me to the parlor, probably to make sure I didn't back out, kept chattering on about their first tattoos and how they couldn't wait to be under the needle again. All I could think about was how many hours I would have to work before I could afford laser tattoo removal. I don't think I had that one-inch by one-inch tattoo longer than 10 minutes before I started inwardly panicking about its permanence.

Today, however, I am a different girl. One might say I've graduated from girl to woman. Although, I hate that word "woman". It sounds like I should be wearing pantyhose and a dress suit everyday. I blame commercials from the 80's. They really warped my little brain into thinking that all grown, confident women must wear suit jackets, shoulder pads and own an abundance of hosiery while having developed a very mature palette for diet soda and low-fat yogurt. I don't drink soda and I usually hate the taste of any food labeled low-fat.

Anyway, lately I've felt confused by my most recent relationship that appeared to be with a man, who at times acted like he was an old man, but was in fact with a boy. I've been remembering conversations we had that, in retrospect, were orange flags. (I would say red flags, but they weren't deal breaker conversations like him saying he wanted to ultimately live on a commune someday. Just things that should have signaled to me that he was not ready to take the next step.) And today I finally made sense of all those things that were said. Today I realized why that last guy wasn't going to work out, at least not yet. I want a man and apparently have wanted one for some time. I thought I had accidentally stumbled into a dating relationship with a man only to find out that he was just a boy parading around in a grown man's life, wearing all the right clothes, saying almost all the right things and acting like he was ready for retirement. And that's ok. He will get there someday.

But I'm not talking about possibilities in the next 3 years. I'm talking about today. I want someone who knows what he wants, doesn't feel the need to constantly fill me in on his every waking move so that he can hear himself say it to make sure it sounds right, and who isn't afriad to go after all those things he truly knows he wants to have in his life.

That idea would have sent the old me running scared in the opposite direction, but it doesn't scare the new me. Not one bit.

Trying Out For The Lead Role

"Iris, in the movies we have leading ladies and we have the best friend. You, I can tell, are a leading lady, but for some reason you are behaving like the best friend."  
-Arthur Abbott

I've been rather enlightened lately by TV shows and movies which means only one thing: I'm either spending way too much time on the couch or I've been gaining wisdom from the most unlikely sources. For the sake of keeping a positive momentum let's just say that God works in mysterious ways...via my television.

I was enjoying a few much needed hours of down time the other day, sacked out on the couch, convalescing my sick throat while watching Christmas movies. As I drifted in and out of my sore throat haze that afternoon, my brain was just about to check out when I heard Arthur, from The Holiday, challenge Iris to start behaving as the leading lady in her decision-making. She had been acting as if someone else was in the driver's seat for all of the choices she made for herself. She had let some guy take command of her feelings for far too long and it was time for her to take the reigns again or forever be playing the role of the sidekick.

There they were again: words of wisdom. From my television, no less! And they prompted a string of questions that hit me in that part of the gut that tells you you had better start paying attention or you'll soon lose the game. Had I been playing the best friend role in my own life; the one who is at the mercy of someone else's control? Or had I been behaving as the leading lady; the one who moves forward without trepidation and accomplishes what she sets out to do?

Have I been moving forward in certain areas of my life as I should or have I been sitting on the side lines scared and unmoving?

Without saying too much, I know that there are areas of my life where I've been holding back or holding out....waiting to see what will happen. When, the truth is, I should be the one playing the game, not watching it.

So, dear readers, with some shaky steps on an unmarked path, I will be bravely moving forward knowing that the risk of failing will not be greater than the risk of regret. And if all of my friends' advice is right, it will all work out for the best in the end. If I can just keep moving.