This week's Why Wednesday isn't one of the many "why" questions I get from friends and family regarding my life's choice to wait for love. Nope. Instead, I've got a "why" question for myself.
After recounting a couple of interesting dates, and recalling other oddities I have yet to share, I suffered a mild meltdown when I realized...I don't think I've ever really had a great date. *here's where the slight panicky feeling starts to come over me*
And it's not because I'm uber picky or have my nose stuck up in the air--that's not me. So, why? Why on earth do I seem to end up with the weirdest guys on the planet?
Now, there is nothing wrong with being different or weird, even. Heck, some people think I'm weird and different just because I have chosen to wait for love, and I'm totally okay with it. This decision does make me different...as does my serious love affair with Marc Jacobs handbags and my passion for football, NASCAR, etc. I've been called a trader to the female way of life because I happen to love handbags AND sports.
If someone isn't going to give me a chance--get to know me--and simply judge me on a life decision, then there is nothing I can do about it; I will forever be weird and different in their minds. It is what it is, and I am who I am.
But, am I wrong to think that my "uncommon" decision is vastly different from, say, howling at the moon because you're a past-life werewolf or spitting out your food on the table because you have a tricky palette? Aren't those different kinds of weird? Maybe I'm wrong.
My decision is based on the heart and on a dream, as stupid as it sounds. Does that make me the same kind of weird as the howler and the spit guy?
Maybe the bottom line is this: it's okay to be weird...you just have to find someone who is the same kind-of weird as you...or, you know, at least similar.