League Politics.

It may seem to be a very American thing to say, but the concept of leagues when choosing a partner is also a pertinent part of British society today. We have some understanding or estimation of how attractive/cool we are and then we weigh that up against potential partners to decipher whether we are equally balanced or whether one is far superior/inferior than the other.

It’s an ugly game, and one that many of us are kind enough to play only in our heads. But it can’t be denied that some people can be a lot more vocal about it, often those who believe themselves to be the be all and end all. Boys in bars turning their noses up at “skanks.” And of course there are those who feel they are not attractive enough for the girls in their company. It doesn’t have to be boys, it goes both ways. I for one have often been aware when I am out of my depths, surrounded by far more attractive girls than myself in a room of Adonis like men.

But this summer things changed for me. I am not saying I am extremely beautiful, for that would be a lie. But in the last year or two I have come into my own so to speak. The minutest of weight losses, a bit of hair growth and a better idea of how to apply my make up led me to become attractive or so I have been led to believe thanks to the increase of interest that I have received from the opposite sex (that’s not to say it’s led me any further to a boyfriend).

But it is amongst this increased attention that I’ve been made more aware about the whole league system. I don’t see myself as one who follows it…the men I’ve dated or had dalliances with have varied greatly in looks and background. I certainly don’t require a type or expect a certain level of attractiveness or specific interests to draw me in. Despite this it seems that other people do like to make themselves aware of all this type of rubbish.

Recently when working with a large number of people my own age, I heard of a boy discussing how he wanted to test out all the single ladies on site by talking to them all before deciding which, if any, he would bite the bullet with and attempt to woo. However, he announced that two of the girls were out of his league. And I happened to be one of them. Flattering but odd. Whilst it’s nice to be ruled out on account of being seen as attractive, it is also depressing to discover that people would avoid you or not give you a chance because they deem you to be out of their league. Well what if I don’t care about leagues? What if I can’t control who I like and it happened to be you? But that seems to be the way our system works.

And it didn’t end then. I told one dalliance of mine that I wished for things not to go further, something he had hoped was a possibility. Having turned to many of our mutual friends for advice on what to do about me, one girl took it upon herself to be as blunt as possible by telling him to look at me and look at himself to understand that I was far more attractive than him so how he could possibly think this could amount to anything. She then proudly told me this, leaving me mortified that someone would have had to hear such sharp, painful words. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if someone told me I simply wasn’t good looking enough to have a chance with a guy I really liked. For me, his appearance hadn’t played a factor in my decision. I had made the decision based on a simple lack of spark. There was no lightening flash like the ones that appear on the Sims (And I thank one of my best friends for coming up with such a great analogy) and it should have been up to me to tell him that, not for someone else to come up with their own theories based on unjust societal influences.

Unfortunately though this is how we work. We think less of the science behind attraction and care more for the rules that society puts down. Yes, as I’ve said it can be a flattering aspect but it shouldn’t be our focus. Can’t we just accept who we like and forget about the aesthetics of the situation? There’s nothing sadder than when people are embarrassed to reveal their true feelings because they feel inadequate. Or worse still are those who are too preoccupied with appearance that they are embarrassed to reveal their new partners because they deem them to be less attractive than them. It’s ridiculous and we all should stop being so shallow. Maybe this way, more people will be happy rather than putting up some sort of facade with people that they actually aren’t all that compatible with because society says they should be.

Drunken fibs

One boy didn’t want a relationship. We called things quits, remained friends and things were seemingly going well. We would see each other several times a week, watch films, share tales and the occasional tipple, both alone and in the company of others. My feelings, whilst not waning completely, altered and came to terms with the situation and began to lessen over time.

In hindsight maybe it was inevitable that after a rather lengthy four months had passed, I would drunkenly find myself in bed with him. The next morning we exchanged vague words – “I’m not opposed to friends with benefits”, “me neither”, then the change of mind…”actually we probably shouldn’t make a habit out of this.”

And then once or twice for the following four months we would find ourselves there again. Usually, but not always, after a glass too many of ethanol. At first he gave me the “I like sleeping with you, but I feel like it’s stopping us from seeing other people” speech, which, not wanting to lose a friend and already having acknowledged he hadn’t wanted anything more months earlier, I nodded along to without revealing, perhaps even to myself, that I still had hope of something happening. But after that nothing was ever said, it was like a silent rule underlying our weird relationship that it wouldn’t be discussed, much like we wouldn’t discuss other potential men or women in our lives, even though we knew we weren’t allowed to be the only ones for each other because we were just friends.

Then things became rocky. He became distant and it was clear he was actively avoiding letting things happen anymore. He would flirt with anyone and everyone around me, as if it were to prove a point, but still neither of us discussed it. I was angrily hurt inside but with only myself to blame for letting myself get to this place. There are warnings against friends with benefits everywhere but I had hoped for the best regardless.

It was about a month after the the coldness had began that I received a horrendously drunken phone call from him, barely able to string a sentence together. He asked me to come and help him, he was too drunk and couldn’t get home. And so I went and found him in a heap where he proceeded to be sick as I rubbed his back like good friends do.

And then he flung around, happy as Larry, wrapped his arms around me and declaired “I love you!” Then “ahhh you’re gorgeous and I don’t deserve you.” Taking it with a pinch of salt, he continued to repeat how gorgeous I was and how much he didn’t deserve me and how he wanted me to take care of him. When I replied that I was taking care of him he replied that he wanted me to take care of him properly, from which I can only determine that he meant more than just in this weird vomit ridden environment.

On the walk home he asked strangers passing by if they were good enough for me because he didn’t deserve me and compared my looks to what he described as a “gorgeously manicured lawn”, in reference to a french boules pitch.

All in all it was flattering, including the sicky passes he tried to make at me as if I were his own girlfriend. It didn’t last long and on my revealing to him all the things he had said, admitting I knew he had meant nothing by them, he turned further away from me again, abandoning me mere weeks later alone at a party to lock himself away in bed with one of the hosts.

And it hurt to have gone from hearing such sweet words, no matter how drunken, to being actively rejected. But again, I could only blame myself for getting involved.

And so it stopped there. We actively had dalliances with other people to each others knowledge, and whilst I didn’t stop caring entirely for him, I stopped caring about who he flirted with or took home and accepted my place in his life.

But it didn’t really stop there did it? Because now four months on again, we found ourselves back in bed together. And what should slip out of his drunken mouth but the words, “you’re the love of my life.” And said so sincerely I assure you.

I replied laughing that it wasn’t true and he too gasped embarrassingly and laughed in agreement. But I still question why his drunken mind leads him to say so much untrue rubbish when sober him actively acts like he couldn’t possibly see me in such a light.

But there is no real answer. Some research shows drunkenness leads to trueful expressions, whilst others are more likely to lie. I wish there were a clear answer, or that I were better at approaching such topics to find out what’s really going on in this boy’s head. But for now I can only take it as lies, because that’s all my heart can take.