Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend was Fun Like Me?: On Being the Life of the Party

I’m writing this from home tonight. ¬†I am at ¬†home‚ÄĒon a Friday night. This isn’t supposed to happen to me……

You see: ¬†I’m the life of the party. Eddie Murphy could have dedicated “Party All the Time” to me. I’m the queen of charisma and my cup runneth over with personality. ¬†I am am off a scales extrovert, a maverick, and a some may argue a certified wild child. ¬†While I’d push back on that last moniker‚ÄĒadmittedly‚ÄĒI like to be on the scene. Shaking hands and kissing babies is my thing. I got it honest. Both my parents were parties and growing up we were always celebrating life. Because I get my energy by engaging with others, and I am an awesome dancer (you should see me hit the dougie), I have always embraced the intrigues of night life. ¬†What’s better than getting all glammed out in lashes and stilettos, and tipping on the scene with your gal pals? Not much!

However, while my outgoing  personality and reputation for being out in about is great for creative work, awesome for networking, and fantastic for reality TV shows, sadly it is not ideal for landing Mr. Right.  I am finding that being  Ms. Champagne Life is busting up my dating life.

I never really thought of myself as a party girl, but I’ve noticed, as my friends have begun to settle down that my latent post-adolescent desire to hit the streets is pretty remarkable amongst my set. ¬†As many of my peers are picking out china patterns or pushing strollers, ¬†my attentions are drawn to much lighter diversions. ¬†Sure, I am striving towards my professional goals, and busy with community service, but nevertheless the streets keep calling. Perhaps, it is because I got married and divorced by like twelve, but I’m¬†definitely¬†on the scene now harder than any other damn near thirty-year-old I know. ¬†Ten years ago, while my girls were in the club, I was cooking, cleaning, and doing the best impersonation of a young Claire Huxtable I could muster. ¬†Since my divorce, I have done plenty of ¬†healing, growing, maturing…but¬†I’ve¬†been doing a whole helluva of ¬†a¬†lot¬†of¬†partying.

I’m having a great time living the champagne life, the only problem is when the party is over, every one wants someone to go home to. A guy friend kicked some knowledge to me on the whole matter that was really a revelation. ¬†You see it turns out, a lot of guys don’t really go for the so-called party girl ¬†or at worst we get stereotyped as the good time girl. ¬†Here are a few reasons why getting to wifey and/or girlfriend status is a herculean challenge for a girl like me:

  1. Men assume you have someone or a lot of someones
  2. Men are intimidated and or overwhelmed by your confidence and won’t approach
  3. A certain kind of guy isn’t willing to share the spotlight and will opt for quiet eye candy or vocal charisma
  4. Your awesome is generally misunderstood

Here is where I’m come out on this whole analytical¬†conundrum. ¬†For a brief moment, I really considered ¬†being less: a bit more quiet and adopting the homebody swag, under the misguided hope that prince charming would¬†gallantly¬†ride to my door atop a white horse, my size Louboutins in hand. ¬†However, like lightning it occurs to me: ¬†I am not willing to CHANGE ¬†for any dude. ¬†I’ve been there done that, and bought the t-shirt. ¬†I will never go there again. ¬†I was only a pale and less¬†interesting¬†version of myself, when I lived that way and all in all life is too short to be something you or not. ¬†I figure, the right guy will be handle me and all my awesome no problem. ¬†Better yet, he’ll want to party with me! ¬†So here it is: ¬†They say life is a party, so we might as well dance! ¬†You with me?

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