I’m not like most girls.
In high school, I played in the dirt for fun. I spent many weekends donning overalls and judging soil inside a pit dug in the middle of a field.
On most school nights, I was holed up in our high school newspaper office writing stories and laying out pages before press time.
I was some weird combination of nerdy and country — the kind of girl who can’t dance and feels awkward at proms and homecomings.
In fact, I wanted to skip the whole prom thing altogether. I didn’t go my junior year, and when I didn’t get asked my senior year, I decided it’d be best not to go again.
Then my mom intervened. She said I had to go. I’d regret it if I didn’t. I started to think maybe she was right.
So I asked a friend from another school. He said yes. I bought a fancy dress and got a fancy hair-do, and on the day of prom I stood inside my doorway, waiting to be swept off to some magical place for a night I would never forget.
That’s what happens in all the teen rom-coms right?
Well, my life, as it turns out, is not a teen movie. It had nothing to do with my friend, by the way.
But here is what I remember about that night: I squeezed into a packed high school gymnasium with hundreds of my high school classmates while wearing an uncomfortable ball gown with uncomfortable heels and felt super awkward as I danced to rap songs I’d never heard.
Does that sound like anyone’s idea of fun? There was no magic whatsoever.
I felt like I wasted the $300 my mom forked over for the beautiful dress.