My choice of men has had me looking for the same glitzy packages that have made me miserable each time. I think that I am making the right choice, but it always ends the same, the same box, the same ribbons, wrapped the same way, and with the same paper. Looks shiny and brand new, but when I open the box, it is the same ole crap.
He works too much, he doesn’t work at all. He is selfish, he is always giving, just not to me. He is abusive, he is passive…and I have discovered that they are one in the same. He wants to share everything, and crawls into his man cave for days on end to brood about whatever men brood about. He is tall, he is short. He is fine, he is ok looking. He dresses to the nines; he wears sweats all day long. It matters not…He IS the same guy.
And all along the journey, there have been packages that have been wrapped in plain brown paper and tied up with string. They were unassuming, not pushy, quietly waiting, waiting for me to choose them. They don’t have cheerleaders, neon signs or loud parades announcing their presence. They don’t strut like peacocks, because they are trying to impress you with things. They don’t have too, they know who they are.
In fact, you walk past them every day and never say a word, or look at them “that way”, because they are not what you were expecting. You are expecting a package that has your name on it in big gold sparkly letters. You are expecting to be swept off of your feet in a giant gesture. You want some great and grand story to be able to tell your other lonely friends about how you met. You want to show off the flowers he sent you, the dress he bought you, the shoes he had delivered, and yes, even the ring he put on your finger, but you know…deep down you know this is not the package for you.
You are looking for him see you across a crowded room, come to you with an unoriginal original line, securely sway you across the dance floor, buy you a drink and talk to you until the sun comes up. Maybe you think that he is going to notice you at the mall or on a beach. He could see you at a business meeting, or even passing each other at the airport. Where he meets you is not the problem, and really does not matter, he has out glitzed the guy that is in the background, the one that is for you.
I remember that when I was younger, I had a list of requirements of what “my man” had to have to be my man. He had to be educated, college of course, he had to look good. He had to dress and smell good, have a good job, money in the bank. No baby mammas, never been married. Drive a nice car, and live in a nice home. I remember an older lady telling me that when what I was looking for got finished with me, then I would discover what really was important…she was right.
There have been some brown paper bag wrapped packages that I wish I could have just one more chance with. I laughed, and smiled with them. I felt great in my skin and did not have to make changes with or for them. They asked me how my day was, and actually listened, even when that day was crap. They accepted me just as I was and just as I am. No pressure to be anything other than Wendy. These were men that made sure that I was alright, took real care of me. I just was not in a place to see them for what and who they really were. They were my package and I was over powered by the glitz and perceived glamor of the shiny bow and ribbon.
And so I wait patiently for my package. I have learned the real meaning of everything that glitters is not gold. Sometimes it is wrapped in an old paper bag, tied with a string for a ribbon, and duct tape holding it together…but oh what awaits you on the inside…