There are different kinds of females.
There are females who are insecure and need the attention of men to validate their feminity . They lack assurance in themselves and cover up their insecurities with cheap talk and endless ridicule of others.
There are females who don’t want others to have better lives than them; females who see another progressing, look for flaws and attack. They seem to intend no harm in their ranting, but deep down, their plan is to poison the mind of their listeners.
Then there are the clingy and dependent ones. Girls who laugh nervously when with boys, who wait on their every word. Those who text their ‘guys’ once in every five minutes during the day, and call for two hours before bed. They are quite sensitive, the ones who cry oceans of tears after they are jilted.
I am not any of these ladies mentioned above. I am the serious and ambitious type. The one who is able to give opinions to almost anything, and spends her free time reading novels. I’m usually kind, but my studies come first – anything else comes second. I tend to have grand dreams, so I prioritize and to some people, I might be the obnoxious type who is selfish and self-centered. I work hard, too hard perhaps, that I end up having few true friends. I keep high standards and so I tend to expect the same from other people too. I am the teenage girl’s hero, the type who is able to keep her ahead above the murky waters of dating, infatuation or even love.
But life has surprises for everyone. On a dry harmattan morning, Cupid’s arrow nearly hit me, I nearly caught feelings, and here’s the abridged version of how it happened.
NB: Names, characters, places and incidents may or may not be entirely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events may be entirely coincidental.
So I’m at this meeting, it’s an interactive session, with people giving their opinions about the subject. And as I like to do, I keep quiet, observing and analyzing every answer. Then this guy speaks, and I’m impressed because he says the kind of thing I would say. I don’t look at him while he’s talking, while everyone’s looking at him. I wait for him to finish, then I look up, and he’s looking at me. Okay. His gaze is fearless and unwavering, this guy is openly looking at me, with the hint of a smile and this isn’t The Fault in Our Stars.
On a normal day I would be slightly enraged, going on and on in my mind about males and their inability to control their eyes, and then I would stare back. But this is no normal day, because I am not enraged and I cannot hold his gaze. In fact, I am a bit flustered. I feel like I’m in a Telemundo soap opera. After the meeting, a friend introduces him, we’re shaking hands and he says,
‘Hi, I’m Michael’
‘Hi, I’m Dupe’, I reply.
Then he says to me, ‘You have a very captivating personality. I was staring at you the whole time.’
(Its been almost half a minute, and we are still shaking hands.)
‘You have insufficient Vitamin D’, I say’.
He raises his eyebrows with amusement.
‘You have cold hands. It’s caused by insufficient Vitamin D’, I explain
And for the next 12 seconds, we say nothing, we’re literally gazing at each other, with a bit of wonder and amusement. And for these 12 seconds, I am not slightly flustered. I am fully flustered. I am blushing. Me, who talks sense into her friends, when they rant about how they were attracted to someone at first sight, and laughs, while asking, “How do I catch feelings?”. I was flushed. And then someone(sent by the Lord) comes and snatches me away, and the jinx is broken. (Till this day I believe there were some supernatural forces behind this occurrence).
When I recovered, I was overwhelmed with fright and fury. It was the fright that came with experiencing something new, yet not so unfamiliar. But most of what I felt was fury. I was furious because strong, assertive and driven females do not ‘catch feelings’. I was furious because I am the girl who gives her friends speeches about how they should never be pressured by their environment into relationships, about how they should only date when they’re ready to; so I do not catch feelings.
And so after, I was looking for something to blame for these feelings that I had ‘caught’. And I found an easy target. Sex scenes. Love scenes. Not the cute scenes from ‘Boys Before Flowers’ or ‘My Girlfriend is a Nine-Tailed Fox’. Not the watery, open-mouthed kissing scenes from ‘Destiny River’ or ‘La Patrona’ or any other Spanish movie with their improbable plots. No, I knew those weren’t real. I blamed all the regular movies with love scenes from Abduction to Divergent to Vampire Diaries to The 100. I blamed them for dropping these love vibes slowly into my subconscious. They were supposed to be wonderful action movies. They had no business opening my heart up, making me feel like there had to be some sort of love activity in my life leaving my heart vulnerable and defenseless.
In my rage, I had a point against these movies and their unjustified scenes, but the truth remains that I saw it coming. I ignored all flashing signs and warning lights. I gave myself the permission to catch feelings for those 12 seconds. I dozed off, I lost consciousness for those 12 seconds.
Stay awake people.
There are different kinds of females.