I Didn’t Know Anything About Men.
Growing up, I believed that staying celibate until marriage was a good idea. I was taught that intimacy was private and personal and meant to be shared between two loving adults. And as a child, I believed deeply in love, romance, fantasy and magic.
In fact, I still believe in love, romance, fantasy and magic. It’s terribly disappointing for me most days.
My behavior with men in college can’t be explained without many years of in-depth, personal therapy. Fortunately, I have explored two rehabs and countless therapists to provide me with some insights. I know a little about why I behaved the way I did.
First and foremost: if I hadn’t been a drunk, it’s quite likely that I would have led a different life entirely.
But I didn’t know anything about men. What little I knew, I learned from books and Disney movies. So I went to college thinking, I will meet Prince Charming at Mount Union! Our eyes would lock across a crowded room and that would be it. We would instantly fall in love and when we graduated, we’d get married and have 2.2 children, a dog and a white picket fence.
All the stuff that was supposed to happen in between our first eye-lock and the picket fence…?
Well, I had no idea what that might be, but I assumed my One True Love and I would figure it out.
It’s like I was a packet of cake mix, just waiting for the eggs to get mixed in so I could start baking. My life wasn’t going to be complete without a man – feminism be damned – and I was going to find the perfect complement to my completely warped perceptions no matter what I had to do along the way.
But since I had no idea that men were actually human beings, I truly had no idea what to do with a man when I found one. I was raised with loving, caring parents, but no brothers. My role-model father was, in my mind, perfect. His job was to come home from work and play games with me and go sled riding.
So I just had to find a guy who would go to work and then come home and play games with me. How hard could that be?
I didn’t know what I was supposed to do to make that marital fantasy into a reality – and I sure didn’t know what to do with a real-life man when I found one who would talk to me.
So I took my cues from men; I got drunk then tried to figure out what they wanted. I met lots and lots of men at college – at bars, house parties, and fraternities. And what I discovered: they all seemed to want the same thing. And what they wanted from me … wasn’t what I wanted at all.
Alcohol provided me with both a buffer and a tranquilizer. It shoved me into a corner – face up against the wall – daring me to find my way out when I could see nothing but the corner. Ya gotta get another beer! it screamed. Go with him! He has beer!
Alcohol drowned my naivety and buried my innocence. You can do this! You’re cool! I was not cool.
It kept me engaged with the targets of my affection while allowing me to deadpan my deepest desires. If I give him what he wants, maybe he will like me.
Alcohol let me continue dreaming, even as it killed every dream I ever had.