It’s a perfect summer night – warm and quiet. We’re floating in the middle of a secluded pond. There are four of us in the paddleboat only intended for two people Two boys are paddling – one of which, I should mention, is a tall, blonde, model-like man I’ve had the unexpected pleasure of going on several dates with at this point in time. One of my girlfriends and I are balancing on the back of the overweighted vessel, struggling to remain dry.
The conversation shifts topics several times, until landing on the question, “How many people have you kissed?” As everyone answers, I pray this question will stay within participating parties only. But, to my luck, “How many people have you kissed, Ansleigh?” asks Mr. Tall’s equally blonde friend.
Oh boy; here we go. I respond, “It doesn’t matter, so I won’t tell you!” My go-to answer leads to the boys persisting, while guessing outrageous numbers and finally getting bored. But right as they’re about to give up, my girlfriend unexpectedly chimes in: “Zero! She hasn’t kissed anyone!”
I realize we’ve stopped moving, and it’s so quiet, I swear I can hear Mr. Tall’s beautiful buttcheeks clench against the damp plastic seats. I’m tempted to allow my body to slide off this sinking Titanic and drown, as I should. I know what comes next.
Sure enough, the following conversation is…uncomfortably apologetic, without a word from the tall blonde stiff (who never took me on another date). Though I’m not blaming my failed romance on my lack of lip action, the story’s a good representation of a common misconception of me. Why would an average-looking 21-year-old woman not have kissed anyone, ever? Probably because the poor thing never had the chance, aww…or maybe she’s one of those crazy conservatives who’s saving it for her wedding day.
I would like to state that both of these claims are absolutely false. But what is important to understand about me is how serious I am about all relationships, even if they are platonic. Certain things, like the coveted lip-locking, isn’t vital in getting to know someone. In fact, it can sometimes get in the way. Have I had chances? You bet your britches I have! Come on; I’m an average-looking 21-year-old-woman. But I have no regrets. I think I’ve dodged many bullets of unnecessary heartache.
When I was a high school senior, my brother demanded, “Frankly Ans, at this point, it doesn’t even matter who. You just need to get your first kiss over with.”
My answer to him back then was as it is now. It does matter, I don’t want to, and ultimately, it’s none of your business.