And How it Led to Breaking Girl Code.
This blog/confession/purge will not make me a popular person. It alone will make any female I know never want me to be around her man…ever.
You see, I have a curse. The curse of always being the 2nd choice who men realize in hindsight should’ve been the 1st choice. This is part and parcel of being a DUFF. Let me explain.
Being the cute chubby girl (or woman now), I often get bypassed by men who are on the prowl for their next lady. I find that when men are on the hunt, they are often searching for the most attractive woman they can find. Or at least the hottest they can get (no matter what he looks like, mind you). That leaves many plus-sized females on the sidelines. Always the last pick. Like it’s Jr High gym class all over again. I was rarely ever first pick for the dodgeball team.
Then I make friends with a fellow female and we start hanging out. Invariably, I meet her man or I’m there when she meets her new man. Most of these girls are lovely and rank in the upper percentile of prime, grade-A female. But with a beautiful woman, often comes a bit of drama, baggage, or self-esteem issues. I’m not trying to be mean, but if a female grew up mainly being praised for her looks, often times that’s all she focuses on. Not all, but many. At least in my experience.
So anyway, this is where the bickering, the drama, the insecurities, the fights begin. You see, he got the hot chick, but he didn’t realize that she is a lot of work. Not saying that DUFFs aren’t work. I just think, at least for me, that I’m super laid back and chill. I’ve learned to become relatively comfortable in my own skin. I’m funny, optimistic, I don’t let a lot of little things get to me, and I appreciate the small stuff because I’m not lucky enough to get anything more. So I’m usually the mediator in these arguments between my friends and their men.
This is when he sees me. Sidenote: This does not happen with ALL of my friends’ men.
You see, I’ve found that when men are attached and not on the hunt for the hottest thing walking, they are more aware of other things besides the hotness factor. They often take off their superficial blinders that blind them to anything other than 7s-10s. And no, I’m not downing myself. Personality-wise, I’m an 8-10 depending on who you’re talking to. I just know how people judge bodies. Anyway, I digress. Once the blinders are off, they actually see me. Unfortunately, that’s also when inappropriate touches happen. Touches that seem innocent and if I say otherwise, I look crazy when he denies it. But then there are touches, actions, and/or words that are without a doubt exactly what they were meant to be.
For instance, when I was 19, I was hanging out with my friends. We were at my best friend’s boyfriend’s house. He was older, so he’d gotten us booze. At one point, I passed out on the floor of his room next to another friend’s boyfriend. Everyone left the room for whatever reason and next thing I know, I’m jolted awake by her boyfriend laying on top of me (I was laying on my stomach) and he commenced to humping my ass in his f*cking tightie whities, no less. I was so shocked and too damn nice to say anything. I just laid there stunned. Then I heard footsteps and apparently, so did he, because he rolled off of me and pretended to still be asleep when everyone walked back in. I never told my friends because I knew they’d think I was crazy. Actually, that’s a lie. I told one of those friends years later and she waved it off as if he was joking. Because it couldn’t be possible that anyone would want to sexually assault the ‘fat friend.’ That’s why I don’t say anything when this crap happens to me.
Another time more recently, my friend’s man said to me when no one was around, “If I had of met you first, it would’ve been you” or “If it hadn’t of been her, it would be you.” I can’t remember exactly how he put it, all I know was that I was floored because it came out of nowhere.
These are just two major examples. Most times, I couldn’t be the slightest bit interested in these guys. I usually just feel bad for my friends, though. They deserve better than their men making subtle or not so subtle moves on their good friend.
Sometimes through it all, I think that I’m crazy and imagining things. But recently, one of my friends who I really don’t talk to anymore because of my newfound unapologetic blackness that she’s uncomfortable with just broke up with her man, who is also my friend. In all honesty, I liked him more than I liked her. She was never easy to be friends with, but that’s still not an excuse. Anyway, when we all used to hang out before I moved, he would be so flirtatious and so up-in-my-face that even she noticed and yelled at him for annoying me. He would break the rules of personal space and get in my face to talk to me. He’d sit really close to me. Or he’d rub my ear. I always pulled away from him, but there was an attraction there that I couldn’t even deny.
Once they broke up and she started playing for the other team (Yes, she became lesbian. Does that make what happens next better? I have no idea.), he contacted me and wanted to hang out. I pushed back and tried to keep my distance, but one thing led to another and we met up. And he, of course, appreciates every single thing about me. From my personality, my intelligence, my body, my everything. Something I can never seem to find in a man who has no association with my damn friends.
I mean, seriously! I haven’t dated anyone since 2009. That’s eight damn years! And I hadn’t been touched by anyone in 3 years before him. That many years without affection and not much human contact can make you go crazy. So now we have this odd relationship that I don’t know what to do with.
In the end, I knew I wasn’t crazy. This thing with him just solidified my theory. Talking to him about his attraction to me when they were still together just confirmed my curse. The curse of First Choice, Chosen Second.
I hate it.