Ice Woman Cometh

I like to consider myself as a warm person. I smile and I am personable. I am loving and caring. I am also literally a warm person. My normal temperature runs more at about 99.1 than a 98.6. This is the precious perspective I have constructed for myself.

But, men seem to feel the need to crush this warm persona and replace it with a cold, Arctic one.

Ice Queen. Cold-Hearted Bitch. Miss Freeze.

All lovely nicknames I have been called or referred to as. This is the story of my Arctic freeze.

My freshman year of high school I went to Winter Formal with this guy I liked a lot. I knew he liked me, too, so I was super excited. I was 15 and had yet to have my first kiss. But, I was thinking that just maybe when he brought me home he would kiss me and I would finally have my first kiss.

Well, like most of my hopes and dreams, this hope died. After the dance, he brought me home, walked me to the door, gave me a hug, and then got back into his truck. I was so confused...why did he not even try????

The next Monday I was talking to my best guy friend about this. He informed me of the following: I guess the guys in my class were talking about me and how "lucky" this guy was to take me to Winter Formal. He was being cocky about it, saying how yeah...he was. Then they asked him about "trying something" and I guess he replied that he was going to try, but he doubted anything would happen because I am an Ice Queen. Well, Monday he told them he tried to kiss me, but I would not let him. So...I was an Ice Queen.

Umm....well, no. I wasn't going to fuck his brains out, but I would have kissed him. IF HE WOULD HAVE EVEN TRIED!!!

Throughout the rest of high school the boys in my class would cat call. They would walk behind me when we got out of class commenting on how nice my ass was. They would comment on my rack. They would ask me to their trucks (which is basically asking a girl to bed). They had debates on whether or not I was wearing underwear under my skirt (for the record, I ALWAYS wore underwear. ALWAYS). My senior year I was told I was #1 on the list of Girls I'd Like to Fuck they guys made for our high school. I put that on my resume. Shining moment, right there.

My senior year was also the year of Jablonski. As discussed before, he asked me to Prom. I had by now had my first kiss, but I had yet to kiss him. Again, I was thinking I could have a kiss on a dance night. Well, honestly I was thinking I would do more than just kiss him, but we do not need to go into my XXX teenage daydreams.

The week before Prom I was reading a book in American Government when I overheard a conversation between Jablonski and some other guys in my class. It was basically the same conversation four years earlier that Winter Formal guy had. But, Jablonski would not answer their questions and he just said, "I don't know." I asked him about it later, and he told me that yes, he would like to kiss me, but was not just going to Prom with me to try to sleep with me, but because I was smart, pretty and he liked me a lot. I was pacified and hopeful.

Well....I got another after dance hug. Not even a try for a kiss.

I just never really understood why I got those nicknames. I did not tell those boys not to kiss me. I did not wear clothing that covered up all my body. I did kiss other boys, and they all knew about it. They obviously all had an urge to do more than just kiss me. Yet, they did not. None of them even asked me out on a date.

Yes, I did not get in their trucks to go parking. I am sorry I was not willing to give it up in a Diesel Chevy on a dirt road listening to country music. Or that I was not willing to blow you behind a hay bale in the dirt in a wheatfield.

Those facts do not make me an Ice Queen. That makes me not a whore.

More importantly that means I have some standards. I was a teenager. I had urges and temptations, too. I just was not willing to get naked just because you told me you liked me ass and rack and you voted me the most fuckable girl at our school. Maybe if you would have added diner and a movie, but that never happened.

To bring this to an end, a couple of years ago I talked to my best friend from high school about this. I was telling her how this still seems to happen to me. She told me it was because I am Chelsea. It is my Chelsea-ness.

A guy friend also told me it was because I put it out there.

I am still struggling to find out what exactly being me means and what I am putting out there when it comes to men and relationships.