When I was four-years-old, a classmate and I got in front in front of our kindergarten class and sang a song for everyone. I wish I can tell you it was “Billie Jean” and that it ended a moonwalk. I wish I can tell you that we brought puppets and put on a cute little show. And I really wish I had brought in a photo album with pictures of me as a flower girl at my uncle’s wedding. But that would not be very exciting. We rehearsed for hours in my tiny room in my tiny apartment a neat little number about boyfriends. One hand on our hips while the other raised an index finger to the audience as we sang in unison: “And I’m gonna find me a boyfriend…a boyfriend…a boyfriend. And I’m gonna find me a boyfriend…today!” We thought we were hot shit, she and I. The next day, my teacher, who was friends with my mom, had an impromptu parent-teacher conference in our kitchen. “Come on, V…sing the song again!”
“NO!!” I screamed and stormed out. Why must they make a mockery of my search for true love???
As silly as that story is, the point is this: when you’re young and naive to the world, all you know is that you want something. You don’t know why, but because you’re impressionable, your instinct is to desire something that make other people happy. Why? Because I want to be happy, too! I just learned to spell my whole name and already I wanted to have a boyfriend. Thanks, “Three’s Company” and Shasta Cola for making me envious of things that I had no business envying.
As a child, you’re very basic in terms of prioritizing your needs versus your wants. Water, air, food, and shelter are all things that were readily available to you. Except during the summer I turned 18 and I had to fend for me and my brother by depleting the cans of corned beef in the garage, a time I fondly recall as “The Unintentional Corned Beef Diet Incident.” But that’s neither here nor there. For the most part, you’re given the basic necessities of life and don’t even give it a second thought as to where it comes from and if you’ll get it tomorrow or the next day. You’re completely oblivious. For me, I wanted a boyfriend. I didn’t care if he picked his boogers in class, I didn’t care if he threw sand in my hair during recess, and I didn’t care if he just could not sit in my carpet square like a good boy. I just wanted a boy to like me, to smile at me, to share his crayons with me if mine broke. It was that simple.
In middle school, I don’t think my standards changed very much. The kinds of boys I was drawn to were the one who could kick soccer balls the farthest and who didn’t cry they were “pegged out” when running to first base in Kickball. I remember how laughable a boy in my class was who was pegged out once. I couldn’t figure out if was from the pain of having a fully inflated ball thrown at his head or because he believed his sliding to first was legitimate. At this point, I wanted a boy who I could sit with on the concrete banks during recess. All boys smelled the same, I assume: like dirt, sweat, and warm tatter tots and ketchup. Chances are, we’d break up by the end of the school year, if not before Christmas break. But it didn’t matter, because I wasn’t trying to find a long-time boyfriend, just someone who I could think about before reading group and after we did our math flash card trivia. It was middle school and my standards were still fairly low and very superficial.
By the time you start high school, things start to really change. you start to take things more seriously. By that I mean, working on increasing your stock. In high school (at least when I was growing up), you really didn’t need a delicious bootay, just a pretty face. Eye candy. You start wearing make up, you get contacts, and you start waking up early to work on your hair. High school girls could be ditzy, C+ students, but if she was cute, no one really cared. You still get your basic needs from your parents, even love – but then you start needing love in a companion-type way. Sure the kindergartner in me still wants a boyfriend, but he’s got to do more than not pick his nose or not smell like ketchup. You don’t need a man with a better job (maybe just A job), or a better car (maybe just A car), or even a house (because we’re all still at home). If you were lucky enough to find someone in high school who you really clicked with, then you were already on the right track to increasing your stock – you’ve learned to be in a relationship, you’ve learned what it means to compromise, you’ve seen the (potential) love of your life grow.
During college (and beyond, i.e., your adult decision-making years), your stock should be pretty bulked up. Even if you were only in one relationship (with your high school sweetheart or two-month fling after high school), you still have some experience being in a relationship. Even if it didn’t last, you know more about yourself after having been with someone than you did had you never met him/her. If you’ve been through a break up, been cheated on, you have an understanding of your worth and what you deserve in a partner. You begin to look for someone who had the same goals as you regarding a career, educational standards, or a relationship. Your life experiences allow you to expect more in your next boyfriend/girlfriend. Similarly, if you’re been with the same person since high school, your stock carries over and is built upon. Your body is less important as you’re seen (and see others) as the proverbial total package. Your body is not as important as you start to see people beyond sex; you start asking yourself how they can help you build a life, have they cheated before, is he violent, how does he treat his parents and family members, has he ever been fired from a job, has he ever been convicted of a felony, to name a few.
If you’re middle-aged, I’d like to say that your stock has probably reached its full potential. You’re never too old to learn, which is why your life experiences, in all areas good and bad, make you priceless. Because of this, you won’t settle for shitty relationships and people who will decrease your stock. It’s why people say we get better with time. It’s why my parents are better grandparents than they were parents. It’s why high school boys have fantasies of being with their teachers. It’s why MILFs are all the rage right now (and in my opinion, always will be). Your stock, working for your favor, makes you sexy.
On part 2 I will discuss the sexual changes between the 20 year-old version of me, and the 30 year-old version of me. Why I made those changes, and why later (second) marriages end up being the most sexually adventurous. It’s all about the woman’s stock and how a man matures and needs more stock to actually get excited (mentally and physically). Ryan will join me in part 2. older women are better in bed older women are better in bed older women are better in bed older women are better in bed