Growing up: The process of an individual organism growing organically; a purely biological unfolding of events involved in an organism changing gradually from a simplistic to more complex level.
Well thank you Webster. How can something as complicated as growing up be reduced to such simplistic terms. Sorry Webster but purely biological my ass. There is so much more involved in growing up besides what new areas grow hair and the sound of someone's voice. He did get one thing right though, that Webster, it definitely puts you on a more complex level; complicated to be more exact.
Things were so much easier ten years ago. I was just Spencer the eight year old little girl who liked to play Nintendo 64 and collect Pokémon cards. The only difference between boys and girls was the length of their hair and the bathrooms we used. Fashion sense meant matching your best friend and the only way someone was popular was because they had the latest power ranger toy or the original Ferbie.
Lately I have been feeling so lost. In the last couple of years I have lost touch of my friends, but not just them, I feel disconnected from almost everyone my age even me. I am not sure if I stopped growing up and got stranded in some developmental stage like Freud said or I've been keeping up with everyone but I am just fundamentally different from everyone else.
I've spent a lot of time going over the last couple of years in my head. I was never sheltered, never felt lonely. In fact I was probably one of the most active little kids. I played two different sports, went to dance class, and even participated in girl scouts. It's not even like things changed in high school either. I joined one of the most socially active groups in the school, the marching band. Yes I was a band geek but being part of the band meant having something to do and being around friends every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Also between band camp, trips to Disney World and competitions you became as close as family to the other one hundred members.
My friends changed over the years but I always had my own group of friends to do stuff with who I thought were similar to me which is why I don't understand why I got left behind. It was something I started to notice in my junior year of high school. I had just become friends with someone very similar yet very different from me. I was very loud outgoing but only with my friends. Put me in a room with even one person I don't know and you'll start to wonder if I even have a voice box, but not Ashley.
She was as loud as they come. Everyone in Plymouth high had heard about and knew who Ashley Davies was. Even when she was a freshman the seniors heard stories about her. She was very outspoken and was often in trouble with authority figures because of her behavior. It was shocking to everyone when we became close even to me. The loudmouth trouble maker was inseparable from the quiet as a mouse band geek. But what other people did not know and Alice took the time to learn was that I was just as loud and fun when I was with my friends.
Not just our decibel level was different. She was boy crazy, liked to party and wore clothes tighter than most middle aged women's skin. I on the other hand had two very long very complicated relationships which to me were boring and weird. One guy took his family members on our dates since we stated out as family friends and the other one was just collecting leis and not the party kind. In general I wasn't worried about who I liked and who liked me. I always preferred to just be with friends and not worry about when I had to kiss someone or what was going to happen. I never partied or drank actually I never really saw the appeal especially as a high school student and my idea of getting dressed up was just nicer jeans and a prettier t-shirt.
For some reason though despite our vast differences as friends Ashley and I just clicked. We became those friends that you never saw apart. Class, hallway, park movie theater, each others house- didn't matter we were there together. It pissed off a few people mostly Ashley's old friends who didn't like her hanging out with someone as bland and boring as I was or appeared to be, because god forbid people even took the time to get to know someone before they made a judgment about them. Because I was not bland in fact I was a lot of fun I just didn't need to be naked or under the influence to have a good time.
Although Ashley quickly became the closest friend I ever had it was because of our differences I started to notice my left behind-ness. I always knew I had atypical ideas and values from Ashley's friends but the closer we got and the closer she got to my other friends the more I realized that it wasn't just the supposed bad crowd I didn't have anything in common with, but just about everyone my age even the friends I had had for years.
The day it really hit me was three Halloweens ago and I was having a party at my house. Of course Ashley and I had matching costumes because that's what best friends do. At least if you're five but I was definitely stuck in a little kids mentality. To top it all off we went as the red and pink Power Rangers. People who didn't know us thought we were weird but our friends knew it was us being us and found it hysterical. It was probably the best Halloween; for some reason my mom let me have a party, I had the best friend I ever had and everything was just fun. At least that's how I felt until like all immature high school parties do we ended up playing truth or dare.
At first it was all cute and silly stuff like, have you ever liked someone here, trading costumes, playing pranks on my parents, eating too much candy and other stuff to just laugh at. But then the question came that solidified for me all my insecurities of not fitting in or being like other girls my age. Ashley asked another friend of ours, Masion, who was dressed as a slutty bunny if she enjoyed giving Chris a blow job. Now I am not a prude and I know what a blow job is and that people I knew gave them. It was finding out the every girl in my basement besides I had given multiple blow jobs to multiple guys. The people who I thought were like me, people who I found comfort in now made me feel awkward about myself just like everyone else.
The rest of the night turned into a who did what with who, who was good and who was bad, who was big and who was small. My comfort level was beaten and smothered to death. All I could do was sit there awkwardly and listen, pretending to laugh along. It wasn't like I could participate anyway. Sitting there seeing all the laughter the topic brought, the easy manner in which they talked about what and who they've done, and all the experience every single one of them seemed to have it hit me suddenly like a matt truck; sex. That is what was setting me apart from everyone else. Their experience, their want, their casualness about it-I wasn't like that.
Situations I would have never thought of again started popping up in my head, triggered by my realization. I started to wonder why when I was with Bill and he wanted to do various sexual acts, not even including sex, just more than making out I profusely refused ending the relationship numerous times because of my unwillingness. I thought he was moving too fast and pushing me too hard but apparently he was the one keeping up, normal, and I was just way behind, different. Then I became aware of the fact that when I was with Frank and he never push or suggested anything to do with sex, I stayed with him along time. I always complained he was boring but never did anything about it. I had been comfortable with him because of his lack of a sexual desire and had stayed with him to avoid guys like Bill, which was every guy but Frank. When did everyone become obsessed with sex and why wasn't I?
In my mind sex was not something to just jump into or do because a guy wanted to but rather something between two people in love- cheesy but how I felt it should be. I believed sex was bigger than an act to brag about which allowed you to gossip about people in someone's basement on Halloween.
I am not sure why I was, or felt like I was the only one to think sex meant something. It could have been the fact that my parents met at the age of sixteen and have been married for thirty-five years after being each others first. Or it could have been all the hopeless romantic shit I picked up from reading and watching too many sappy love stories- I mean my favorite movie is "Titanic" and you do not get sappier than tragic love story at sea. Whatever the reason may be, I got stuck living in the fifties when everyone else born in my year was very very currant.
There it is another reason for my sexual uneasiness; my looks, which are far less than stellar. I don't consider myself to be ugly because there are people out there that crack mirrors and make little children scream. Also every now and then a person will call me pretty, however I am not one of those girls who people take one look at and either wish to be with them or be them. So whatever the real reason maybe, I was definitely behind my generation.
In my basement that night my uncomfort level was clear at least to those who new me real well. Somehow I was able to avoid the awkward pause that would happen if they came to me for my latest conquest. I assume the questioning constantly being skipped over me had something to do with Ashley sensing my apprehension but from the look in her eyes I knew that my awkwardness was just going to increase when everyone else left.
Ashley was sleeping over and I had a hunch that she was going to want to talk about whatever had me acting so stand offish. Shockingly I wanted the sex questioning to continue as long as possible because the conversation that Ashley was looking to have was one I desperately wanted to avoid. At that point I had no idea why I was so worked up and bothered by others peoples sexual escapades, especially Ashley's.
I had always thought that she was more like me; I mean we called each other perfect halves and that we complete each other and guys would just have to deal with that, but then why had I never heard about Kyle and Doug before?
There is something about going through something together that makes it easier almost like it almost doesn't matter. Sitting there listening to Madison, Kyla and Carmen go on and on about this guy and that guy I was thinking I'm glad Ashley and I aren't like that but as soon as her mouth opened to talk about how some guy names Kyle's penis curved it was blatantly obvious that I was ALONE in this little fantasy I had created.
I know now that I wasn't angry at her or disgusted by her but rather confused and disappointed in myself but in that moment all I could think was my best friend is a lying whore. What that really meant though was how could my best friend leave me behind, why didn't she give me the memo that we were giving blow jobs now or that I should be thinking about sex more.
Like I said before Ashley has always been boy crazy or it was more like boys were crazy about her. She was one of those girls that with one glance had most people hooked. Everyone assumed from the way she dressed and her endless flirtatious nature that she slept around but in the six months that we had connected in I learned that isn't who she is at all. Ashley was just as dorky and nerdy as I was which is why we clicked so well. She loved harry potter and we attend numerous midnight outings together for the books and the movies. We often swapped books we thought the other would like and grades were very important to her, in fact we met in a study group for chemistry.
Most of all she was not the high maintenance slut most people thought she was. For the most part she spent her nights with me in her room watching old nineties movies we laughed at or our Friday night ritual of watching The N. From what I THOUGHT I knew because of what she told me she never had a real boyfriend and wasn't interested. So the news of her various conquests confused me. Why didn't I know and when did she see them?
I definitely did not want to have this conversation, it was bound it happen but I was dreading every second leading up to it. Between my frustration and confusion I knew that it was not going to end well.