Thursday, March 22, 2012

Because Church Is Not a Dating Service

Sometimes I still have trouble deciding who I am when relating to other people.

I think it’s the fatal flaw of a terribly individualistic person. I feel most comfortable when everyone is at arms length. I can define myself without having to worry too much about how other people view me. Its when I get close to others that the inner dialogue starts. Well… what am I? Am I really the professional working girl with a great, salary paying job? Or am I the fun-lover who goes out on the town Saturday night and stays out til close? Am I a homebody, cooking experimental chicken dishes using ginger and red pepper? Am I a nurturer, taking care of people *ahem* and potty training my 10 week old puppy? Am I a church goer, all devout and straight laced? Am I a wild child, buying Caguama and watching Jersey Shore until it borders on the grotesque?

To me, I am all those things. But I know other people don't see that. They see a couple things and then make their assumptions. The wild child drinking Caguama couldn't possibly be the devout church goer. The fun-lover couldn't possibly be the professional working girl. Am I wrong for being inconsistent? Or am I not inconsistent, and I'm just a strong, well rounded, free thinking individual who can't be contained by a single labeled box for my life?

"Hi!"

I couldn't believe he had remembered my name. It had been months, literally months, since I had last walked into the church. I was embarassed, really, that it had been that long. But what was I going to do, let it keep me from coming back? I climbed the steps to the second floor Bible classroom with the rest of the twenty-somethings. Andy included.

"You look like you just came from work. Do you work late?" I asked him this because he was wearing a suit and tie. Several other guys were wearing suits and ties as well, and it make them all look like some sort of religious fraternity together. Oddly, I found it attractive. I'm sure that's the reaction they were probably going for, too.

"No, its more like I just never went home. I went and ate, and then to Starbucks to read. Then I came here."

"That sounds nice." Bells were going off in my head. It seemed cliché for him to say that he had come from Starbucks. That's where we had met, originally. He had gone out of his way to introduce himself to me, and tell me that he recognized me from the Twenty-somethings group at church. I had made a mental note of it, and when he introduced himself a second time a couple weeks later after church assembly, I made a second mental note. I always felt like he was trying to say more to me, but couldn't quite find the circumstances under which to stray beyond small talk.

"I always have to go home and change clothes. I guess its because I'm a girl. We wear heels at work and stuff." Despite my attempt at coolness, I was kicking myself for leaving the house wearing a red t-shirt and jeans. I was also wearing cork platform flip flops, and that made me feel even more like a sloppy loser. But I reminded myself quickly that I wore that because I didn't care. I don't care. I told myself. I don’t care because I’m stronger than these frou frou girls, and church is NOT a dating service. I still wished I had looked a tad lovelier.

We entered the classroom and stood there for a moment. People filtered in around us.

"Would you like to join us?" he asked. I kept looking at the back row, full of people I should probably say Hi to. "By us I mean me."
What a cute admission, I thought, and smiled. "Sure."

It was really the same situation we had always been in. His friend on the other side of him introduced himself to me. Then immediately Napoleon Dynamite, whom I hadn't seen in months either, popped up and started asking question after question and rambling about how he was doing. Andy sat there next to me, and I could feel the tension. He was quite obviously trying to talk to me while Napoleon went on and on. Furthermore a girl in the row in front of us was trying to talk to Andy. She made some joke when he asked her for gum (which he said he desperately needed, again I took note) that he would always be indebted to her now, and would have to sit by her for life. Her eyes flicked over to me for just a second and I couldn't help it, mine darkened. I enjoy competition, even when theres really no prize.

Or was there.

We still didn't say much to each other. The class started just as we were able to talk. Halfway through it, I caught him looking at his watch. And then again. And again. Five minutes before the hour, which was not when class would end judging by the looks of it, he pulled a business card out of his back pocket and held it in his lap. Right at 8 he nudged me.

"I have to go." He was whispering loudly. "I wanted to give you my card, though. See ya!"

And then he stood up and pushed in his chair.

I blushed redder than my shirt. It surprised me that he would give me his card. How odd, I thought. But then again, he had gotten it out 5 minutes before he stood up. He had been thinking about giving it to me, probably the whole time, things being time sensitive. I was surprised. I sat there smirking to myself and telling myself that I was just too awesome not to notice.

But it also confused me a bit. Why was he so forward about things? Why was he sure he even wanted to talk to me? Was it because of the way I looked? It must be, I told myself, because he literally hadn't said very much to me at all. He MIGHT have heard me talk in class. I used to talk my head off in class. Making off the wall, out-of-the-box comments that usually made total sense. Usually.

"You know, modern women wouldn't be unhappy with their Biblical roles if men would perform theirs. You know? Don't reprimand me for asking for respect because I do your job and mine, espeically when you're the one making me do it. You be a man so I can be a woman."

Yeah I'm sure that made me reeeaaaal popular with the guys of the group.

Still, regardless of whether he had heard me talk in class, he really didn't know me at all. And that scared me. It scared me because I'm different from every other girl in that church group. I've lived a different life than them. I absolutely hated Lavery. And there they are still living it. I've lived a different lifestyle in the past. I've experienced different things. I just feel… different. And in a way I would feel really terrible if someone called me out on it and said that different really meant WRONG. Even though I know that's not right. Even though I know it makes me so much more. I just don't want to have to deal with someone who thinks it makes me second rate.

So am I really experiencing cognitive dissonance regarding my behavioral inconsistencies? Are they really inconsistencies at all? Do I need to change them? Align them? Would that keep me from thinking I'm second rate? Am I supposed to call or email Andy?

What do you think?