Ugly Duckling

I’d be lying if I said it never bothered me, because it did from time to time.  But I was okay with being a scrawny, nerdy kid for the time being.  I had girl friends, but I was mostly friends with boys.  My brother was one of my best friends, and I grew up a beach bum doing water sports.  At some point, all the girls got really into how they looked and I just wanted to climb trees.  I’d rather be playing basketball with the guys than painting nails.  I didn’t read Cosmo, I read Mad Magazine and Transworld Surf.  I didn’t like shoe shopping, I liked to play Halo.  I can’t stand romantic comedies, and I love action movies and super heroes.  I was one of the guys more than I was one of the girls, which is precisely why I didn’t mind being the ugly duckling.

When your best friends are dudes, you realize how stupid they are.  I’m not bashing the opposite sex here (didn’t I just say I prefer hanging out with guys?).  When you’re a teenage girl spending most of your time with teenage boys you learn this: boys are incredibly dumb when it comes to sex because they’re so fucking horny, but beyond that, my guy friends were complex.  They had family issues, identity issues, and struggles with self esteem.  But that first one, the being horny all the time, made them idiots when it came to girls.  Except me.  I was the bro-chick that guys were their true self around.  No, they weren’t always trying to get in my pants.  We had real conversations:  What scared us, religion, who we wanted to grow up to be.  My guy friends confided in me things that they didn’t want to talk to their girl friends about or their best guy friends.  I liked being that person.  Being a teenager is a weird time, and sex was on the back burner for me, and I think it was kind of a good thing.

People often thought my younger brother and I were twins, because we were the same size for a while and we were super close.  One time, a kid on our block was making fun of me, and calling me a boy.  My brother, with good intentions, tried to defend me and said, “Hey! Don’t you call my sister a girl!”  Thanks for trying, Mitch.  Another time, I went paint balling with my brother, my dad, and my guy friends.  I was army crawling, trying to sneak up on the other team.  An older kid with a really nice gun snuck up behind me and shot me in the butt several times.  I limped off the area.  I hesitated to take off my mask, because I was fighting back tears.  My butt was bruised for sure.   When it was over, the older kid with the advanced gun bragged to his friend, “Dude, did you see me shoot that little boy in the ass?”  I took my mask off, letting my long blond hair fall down.  “Little girl,” I yelled, “I’m a little girl.”

Unlike my doctor predicted, and like my family did, I grew.  I got boobs. Unbeknownst to me, I became hot.  Honestly, I was so used to being invisible, and as an introvert, I enjoyed being invisible.  It allowed me to observe and internalize, my inner dialogue running. running, always.  I went from being unnoticed to getting hit on almost over night (it probably wasn’t over night, but it seemed that way to me because I’m socially retarded).  The more attention I got from guys, the more other girls would ignore me.  Was I a threat to them?  Wait… I’m the hot girl?

So I then became the hot girl turned bitch.  That’s not right.  I was always kind of a bitch, but before I was hot no one noticed I was also a bitch.  I was talking to a guy, who is a good dude.  And he was complaining about how this hot chick was rude to him at the bar.  I had to defend her.  I don’t know this girl, but I can say that sometimes you just don’t want to be bothered.  Sure, you MIGHT be a good guy trying to start a conversation, but do you have any idea how many creeps we have to ward off on a daily basis?  Something as simple as eye contact makes some weirdos think they can invade your personal space.  God forbid you smile at them.  So, yes, sometimes, I am flat out rude to guys when I’m out, but it’s because there are just so many creepy people out there.

The humorous irony of it all is when I finally was no longer that nerdy girl in a Star Wars t-shirt, and became the hot nerdy girl in a Star Wars t-shirt, the guys who previously turned me down were then turned down by me.  Then I was accused of being a lesbian.

I’m very socially awkward.  I’m very quiet in most situations. My co-workers are stupefied that I do stand-up comedy.  I HATE attention, unless I’m in control of it (like going on stage).  It takes a tremendously long amount of time for me to get comfortable around other people.  Going from being practically ignored to getting attention on the regular made me even more socially awkward.  I had no idea how to deal with it.  I still suck at accepting a compliment.  But in college when a guy would give me a compliment, I would look down and mumble something self deprecating, then walk away.

 My late blooming and board short wearing self was fully comfortable in male dominated worlds.  I feel more comfortable with dudes than chicks.  This helped me so much when I became a comic.  Comedy is still overwhelmingly male dominated.  I think some girls are constantly seeking that type attention from guys that derives from sex.  Our society conditions women to do so.  But I never wanted that.  I wanted to be seen and treated as just one of the guys.  I wanted be liked for my jokes, and my awkward yet snark personality, not because I had a vagina.

To be honest, it’s pretty rare comics hit on me.  I think it’s because I put out a bro-vibe, because that’s really just who I am.  I like to drink beer, watch sports, and make fun of pretty much everything.  Yes, I’ve been asked out on dates, and had to turn down a couple advances from comics, but it’s happened less than you’d probably think.  I have a “no dating comics” rule that I strictly live by, though.  For the most part, I’m always treated as a peer, and I really appreciate that.

I’m not complaining about the way I look.  I eat well and and exercise on a daily basis to stay in good shape, for health reasons, but mostly because I’m vain.  But it is impossible for me to go to bar, and enjoy a beer and book by myself.  Sometimes, I wish so much I could just be invisible again.