Always a Bridesmaid

My neighbor had a small gathering last night and I noticed the Noah's Ark arrangement right away. Everyone by two's. Paired with a signficant other. Looking through my window, I glimpsed smiles, discreet kisses, hands being held - a peaceful, happy time. Although I am well aware that not all days are as such for couples, the vision stayed with me throughout the night and prompted the question - Why am I not loved?

I don't mean by friends, I mean by men. I am probably one of the most-liked women that my male friends know. That has been the pattern of my life. I am viewed as a wonderful friend, valuable confidant, enjoyable conversation partner, tag-team mischief-maker...I am the person they can count on for a laugh, for an opportunity to tell an off-color joke without giving offense, for a true opportunity to be themselves. None of the posturing that they evince with male companions and none of the cautious posing they assume with potential dates or current significants. I fall into a grey zone that seems to be rare in their lives - the person with whom they can drop all pretense and truly indulge in their real identities.

Men seek me out when they are troubled. They feel comfortable talking to me about the crises in their lives and, surprisingly often, shed tears in my company. They seek me out when bubbling with excitement over a new purchase, a new female in their sights, a beneficial situation that has come before them...they come to me for advice about the opposite (for them) sex and for the female perspective on issues that manifest in their lives. They actively converse with me - they talk with me, not at me and honestly appear to enjoy the experience. They ask me knowledge-based questions - none of the machismo-based reluctance to admit a gap in their cranial computer files...

Men value me as a friend. And I understand why. I am not a feminine woman. Oh, I can pretty myself up for the occasion and do conduct myself in public in ladylike fashion. However, I detest the trappings of "woman." I do not play the games characteristic of many females - I am very open, plain, honest and unvarnished in my approach to life and those in my life. I do not hide my intelligence or areas of knowledge. Playing the dumb blonde is not a game that I find worthy of a self-respecting individual. I am honest - I do not ego-pamper for its own sake, nor belittle for amusement; my compliments are sincere and my criticism is as sincere. I don't mind getting dirty, wet, sweaty, greasy...I have never refused an opportunity for fun just because it involved mussing my hair. I am always anxious to try new things, even if they are not the "smartest" plan in the known universe. I am outspoken - my opinion does not have to be dragged from my lips. I do not like chick-flicks or Oprah-Club books. I have oddities to my personality, such as my Tiki collection and major caffeine addiction. My sense of humor ranges from dry to bizzare to flammably offensive. I know technology and am not afraid to use it. I own a big TV. A really big TV.

Yet I go home alone. When attending a gathering, I often find myself conversing with groups of men for extended periods. We laugh, chat and have a wonderful time. But, at evening's end, I go home alone. They leave with their wifes/girlfriends or some other female that has captured their attention during the evening. There is something about me that does not inspire that attraction that prompts men to jump the fencepost from friend to "friendly." In fact, I am often the one sought out to help plan the strategy for working into the good graces of a desired date. Men do not look at me and see a potential girlfriend or wife. My profile simply does not match the image in their minds of the woman that should be at their side. I have been told time and time again "I wish my girlfriend/wife/all women were more like you." But that is laughable. If they were more like me, they wouldn't be in your life at all...

I have pondered this for many years. Not to say that I have been without male companionship since birth, but my relationships have not been successful. Never ending with a firestorm, more of a drizzle. And, but for one instance, at the instigation of the man, not me. I am left. That becomes hard to take. When you are repeatedly left behind, it is hard not to internalize the concept that you are flawed in this area. That there is something wrong with you in the zone of womanliness. The funny thing is that the males that leave often strive to remain friends! They want me out of their romantic lives, but not out of their personal lives altogether. It is rather like they are picking me up and placing me in a different position on their chessboard. No longer the Queen, now a Bishop. I wonder, now, if I have ever been looked at by a man with love in his eyes...

I would like to be loved. I would like to inspire that feeling in someone, to share something special with another person. To have part of a person set aside just for me. Is that selfish? Perhaps it is. Perhaps I should be content with my lot in life. I actually have more convivial contact with men than do most of their wives and girlfriends. I am valued, well-liked, and, importantly, well-respected. Few women can claim this. But I am not loved. Guess you can't have it all...