A couple of days ago I posted this bit of advice I was given months ago; I never imagined the “lively” conversation that would result or the following conversation which was terribly overdue. Since then, I’ve had ample opportunity to think about how others perceive me and their possible opinions as a result of what they see.

I am happy to say I don’t worry about what others think. I am who I am, without apology, because of all I have endured and survived. If anyone has a problem with that, then they don’t need to be in my life.

Honestly, I don’t see what others do.

When I look in the mirror, I see a woman who is very ordinary and plain, but cleans up okay when she really tries. A woman who is tired and stressed, but still manages to smile while making those she loves smile in return. A woman who is every one of her 42 years, but Mother Nature cut her some slack so she doesn’t look it. Often. ;-) No where, and at no time, do I see the woman family, friends and strangers alike call beautiful. That isn’t me.

Growing up, I was always so awkward and never comfortable in my skin: I had hair that had a mind of its own, wore glasses so blasted thick that Coke bottles must be thinner, and had curves WAY earlier than any of my friends. I wasn’t into the “girly” stuff, but preferred reading to pretty much anything else. Even back then, if a boy spoke to me, I knew it was only to try to get closer to someone else in my group. As to any truth to back this feeling, that’s still up for debate.

Even now, this is the predominate feeling I harbor. It’s become so bad, there is a long-running joke about how oblivious I am to flirting. Seriously! I have major issues recognizing the signs and often need to be told. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty good at spotting the blatant Hey Baby claptrap, and this is what often turns me into Frigid Bitch when out and about. Dude, I’m there to spend time with my friends and/or to hear the band, not to put up with your wanna-be frat boy antics; go find someone else who may actually WANT to be your playmate! It’s the subtle stuff I miss. For example, the last guy I was involved with had to kiss me before I realized he wanted to be more. And we were friends! We could talk about anything and everything, yet I missed all the signs and clues.

You could buy me Flirting for Dummies and I’d probably spend more time reading it than applying it to social interactions. I truly am hopeless sometimes.

This is probably why I engage with online friends as often as I do. We tease and annoy, flirt and torment, each knowing it’s in fun and not to be taken seriously. There’s a safety there, in the reassurance of where we all stand, with minimal chance of anyone misinterpreting anything. It has been known to happen, but this is the exception, not the rule – completely unlike real world interactions. I almost feel like I need a sign asking people to follow proper flirting etiquette so I’ll know in advance if I should be offended or flattered. Here’s the application packet which needs to be signed, notarized and filed with the proper departments. At that time, you will receive the “script” necessary so the object of your attention has at least a clue about what is going on.

And you wonder why I’m single and not even trying to date.