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Why I Desire To Be Desired
August 1st, 2012
My daughter Bridget, who is 8, confessed she has a crush on a boy at summer camp named Jack because he didn’t kill her in War Ball today. Also he has a dent in his chin. I’d hoped my Boy Crazy gene would skip a generation. Alas, it seems my youngest is afflicted.
For me it all began in kindergarten when I realized Paul Schlitz wasn’t there one day. The next morning I told my mother if Paul Schlitz wasn’t in class this morning I had no intention of staying. She should wait at the curb while I checked.
In second grade I had a habit of chasing boys during recess, tackling them onto the grass and kissing them. My parents were called to school and told I must cease and desist. The boys were afraid of me.
In sixth grade my cohorts Kelly and Viv and I were called on the carpet before our triumvirate of teachers, Mrs. Springer, Mr. Smith and Mr. Watson. We were warned that the fighting-with-boys-during-recess was getting out of hand. Kelly and Viv, as one unit, slid down the couch as far away from me as possible declaring it was me ME who was arm wrestling and fighting boys. Which everyone in the room knew, but didn’t say, was my bid for male attention.
Then came middle school … Here’s a gallery of my victims…
I was starry eyed. Jerry Valentine had perfectly feathered hair. Steve Bast was admittedly arrogant, but deserved to be (he later became a doctor after being a pro ballplayer). And let us not forget Todd Shermer, my first rabid infatuation, with his dimpled chin and sparkling, blue eyes. We had a particularly sensual kick fight on the blacktop after school in fifth grade. Our arm-wrestle ended in a panting stalemate.
Later, when he moved away to Florida, the entire female 8th grade student body held a wake where they keened, moaned and rent their gym shorts for months, some say even years to come. Many named their firstborns after Todd.
High school was a dearth of men for me. At least the first three years. My younger sister Gina betrayed me by growing breasts, having manageable hair, a magnificent smile and the attention of all the hot seniors. She was a freshman, me a sophomore. The ignominies. I’m still not completely over that and will occasionally snap her Spanx to remind her of her past cruelties.
Also my friend Viv transformed over the summer before high school into a Latina Janet Jackson circa That’s The Way Love Goes. The track and football God, Aaron Molinar crossed social boundaries to ask her to go steady. Viv and I are still friends today (we’ve just had our 38th Friend Anniversary) despite the fact that Tony Cinque asked her out too.
Surprisingly I maintained my chastity into college, but this says more about my parents than it says about me. Make no mistake, I wanted each crush in a carnal way, even when I didn’t know exactly what that entailed.
And even at the age of 5 I desired to be desired.
I’m an 11-years happily married woman with two great kids and I lust for my husband. In fact, the lust seems to be getting stronger, albeit less frequent, as the years go by.
But that desire to be desired by men is still there today. It’s my Achilles heel, my Greek hero’s tragic flaw.
After giving birth to my second daughter I was pushing her down the sidewalk in her stroller, still twenty pounds up with an ass literally bringing up the rear when a group of Latino construction workers whistled at me. I whipped around and cried, “Thank you! Thank you so much!”
I think this desire to be desired is mostly benign. Everyone enjoys feeling attractive. But I watch myself like a hawk. Always checking my motivations. I don’t want to kid myself about my character flaws and back myself into a sticky situation.
I’d like to not need the approving male gaze. I’d like to be nobler than that. But I suspect they’ll bury my aged corpse one day in a Victoria’s Secret Bombshell Push-Up Bra and a thong.
And now, if my ears are to be believed, I’ve got to start watching my daughter like a hawk, because she’s already begun arm wrestling boys. And winning.
Do you need male attention? Has it ever gotten you in trouble? (It did me, once). Do you judge yourself for it? How do you maintain a loving marriage and still get your needs to be the object of desire met? Do you think it’s wrong to still want male attention after marriage?
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No I do not Need a man`s attention lol But Yes a Womans attention. I heard stories of the Tackling girl who kissed boys.. but Never knew it was you!!:o)
I know why I never got hit up by you,I was the loner kid. no muscles so no arm wrestling for me. The Band geek lol.
Are you still in touch with most of those men? I bet you can find them on FB.
I believe women must “Want” or need to have those other men in their lives even if they are happly married, even if are just friends. Not sexually.
I know my fianc`e is always talking about Jonny Depp. among other men. But Really!! I know she only wants me.
I was the skinny tall kid back in grade school,jr hih and high school. But now age has caught up with me. I have the belly,wrinkles and Yes Even me.. Im getting grey hairs lol. But I know my woman loves me.
I hope this makes some sense.
Perfectly, Mitch. And congrats on your engagement!
In 2nd grade, I kissed a boy Andrew in front of the whole class while the teacher was doing something. I don’t think he appreciated my kisses, since he tended to go the other way when he saw me. But I must have been told that wasn’t acceptable, because when I got to 5th or 6th grade, I would chase David and scratch him.
There’s something about roughhousing with boys that’s just so delicious.
memorial park 3 pm Friday one tackling appt.. but your going to have to help me up when your through with me, not as spry as i use to be. not as good as i once was,but i am as good once as i ever was…everyone desires attention, i am a big flirt and my wife catches me all the time, spent to many shy years wasted and as i said there is a freedom as you get older..Steve bast, he beaned me with a 90mph fastball when i was 17 playing pony ball. still have a bruise..Joe
I can’t make Memorial Park till 4. I’m bringing my brass knuckles. That freaking Steve Bast.
I remember being in elementary school and having to fight off boys on a daily basis (the adults thought it was funny; I did not). After puberty, no boys. I made up for it by having my room wallpapered in Shaun Cassidy, John Schneider, Scott Baio and Ralph Macchio. And Tom Cruise. Perhaps more. It was crowded in there.
Today? Yeah, I need it. More than I care to admit.
For me it was the ill-fated Andy Gibb. How deep is your love? If only he’d known.
When other men besides my husband give me attention it actually makes me uncomfortable. Well, any attention to anything other than my glorious personality, charming wit and dynamic sense of humor makes me uncomfortable. I don’t put a lot of importance on appearances. But then again, I’m fat.
Desiree you crack me up. Haven’t seen you so can’t comment on your fatness, but you are the kind of woman I want to be more like. I bet you’re a lot of fun. I’m always peering into mirrors to see if my belly’s bulging. It gets tedious.
dont need a mirror to see if my belly is bulging, bent over coming out of the shower and a lot of water came out of my belly button.. but i digress, joe
Yes, I need it, yes, even as a 10 years married woman. Yes, I fret constantly I’m turning into a hag. Yes, I want to die when I walk into a bar and since I’m 42 they think I’m someone’s mother. It’s so painful! I, too, was boy-crazy and figured out very quickly and too young how to get their attention. My poor mother. Glad there was no internet back then- I’d have found a sheik online and married him at 13.
Oh yes, I definitely need to be desired. My husband is the least jealous person I know which is probably a good thing because I crave attention from men. I need that acceptance, it just makes me feel better about myself especially since I am generally pretty negative about my appearance so I need those affirmations in a way I wish I didn’t.
So you’ve got me thinking. I never really considered what bra or panties I want to be buried in. But now that you mention it, definitely push-up since my boobs fall into my armpits whenever I lay down. Two kids, you know. Now, about the male attention–yes, I think I have to admit that I feel a heck of a lot prettier when a stranger tells me I look pretty than when my husband compliments me. Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing my husband tell me I’m beautiful. It does mean a lot, and I’ll never forget the first time he told me we were in high school and he said, “You’re beautiful, dude.” Yes, dude. I guess I expect it from him and that’s why it sorta is more exciting when it comes from someone else. Ok, I should just stop writing now cause I think I’ve made myself sound like a weirdo :0 Thought provoking post!
Join me, you’re weirdo pal! Thanks for sharing!
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