“Boys will be boys.” Bullshit. That statement is 100% bullshit. It is never okay to justify a woman being taken advantage of, let alone by a dated phrase. Little girls watch Disney princess movies to create their impeccably high standards of their future princes. Little girls’ minds filled with the dream of her future prince showering her with flowers, gifts, and happiness. Little girls expect to find their perfect prince charming. Little girls are naïve. Little girls are innocently blind to the real world. Little girls grow up. When little girls grow up, they discover that love has an evil twin: lust. Love is a breath of the sweetest, freshest air that you can find. Lust is the beckoning of a promise that will never come true.
Those little girls continue to grow up and then they’re not so little anymore. They go on their first dates. The smell of hairspray and cheap perfume encompass the bathroom. They’re nervous, so nervous. They have no idea what to expect. Could he be the one? Is he my prince charming? No. No, he is not. The boy picks her up in his car. They go to the movies. They sit down and exchange awkward glances. They touch hands when they reach for the popcorn. They nervously smile, blushing. They hold hands. The movie is over. The boy is driving her home. He parks in front of the house. “I had a great time,” he says. “Me too,” she nervously replies. He leans in. Is he going to kiss me? Her heart races. Their lips meet. Butterflies all in her stomach. This kiss turns into another, and another turns into his hands on her waist, and his hands on her waist turns into a hand up her skirt, and a hand up her skirt turns into him taking her clothes off, and taking her clothes off turns into much more than she could have ever imagined her prince charming doing. Frozen. She is frozen. Scared. Terrified. It hurts. She can’t move. Is this what love truly is?
Every blissful expectation the girl had for her prince charming has been ripped to shreds by the dagger of lust. She mistakes lust for love. A faithless promise sealed by the sinfulness of a boy. She falls in lust with others. It’s all she’s ever known. She gets hurt. Falls again. Gets hurt. It’s the painful, endless cycle of a girl who needs to be taught how to love. She uses her body to feel loved. It’s all she’s ever known. It’s all anyone has ever shown her.
But, there was one time when everything was different. She met a boy. She knew the cycle. She knew what was going to happen. She knew she would get hurt. She craved that broken promise. It was a great night, as it usually is. But when it came time for the start of that viscous cycle, something different happened. He hugged her. He hugged her, told her goodbye, then left. She is frozen once again. She is in disbelief. He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t grab her waist. He didn’t touch her where she didn’t want to be touched. He hugged her.
To that boy that didn’t kiss her on the first date: she thanks you. So much. You were the first one. It meant the world to her to know that someone out there isn’t just interested in her body. There was no lust. There were no broken promises. There was no regret. There was no heartache. Just hope and a hug.
