I was always the good girl. That is, until I entered my freshman year at a small, rural college in the middle of Pennsylvania. I wanted to be wild, and free. For the first time in 19 years, I was on my own.
Part of shedding the good girl image meant dating- lots of it. I hadn’t done much dating in high school, and I was pretty innocent to a lot of things other girls had found out ages ago. I dated all the wrong kinds of guys. In high school, I had been blessed with a great group of guy friends-and I had naively thought every guy would be like them.
I was pretty wrong.
I went out on dates with anyone that looked reasonably attractive with a beating pulse. I had always been the kind of girl to be “friends first” and date later. This philosophy was long behind me.
By spring semester, I was miserable, having gone through guy after guy, always feeling unfulfilled. When I met Jared at the library in January, I thought I had found someone special. He was smart, and poetic. At 22, he had dreams and goals of his own. We talked all night, and I believed I had finally found the right guy.
I was blind to all of his flaws. Day after day, I allowed his words of reassurance and comfort watch over me. When he told me he was into drugs like acid and cocaine, I never blinked. As our friendship grew, I believed I could change him. Somewhere along the way, I fell for him. I was completely blind When he told me he had quit his drug habits, I agreed to go out with him.
He stood me up three times. Each time, he had a new excuse. Still, I fell for him. Despite his “bad boy” tendencies, I kept on dating him. It wasn’t until we had been dating for almost two months that I saw the real Jared.
He picked me up at midnight and drove us to a deserted parking lot, near the edge of campus. A part of me felt the thrill of what I was doing, even as the good girl in me screamed to go back to the safety of my dorm. After we parked, Jared pulled out a wooden box. My heart sank.
“You can try some, if you want,” he said. “I’m planning on doing some too.”
I couldn’t believe what he had said. A part of me wanted to cry, and another part of me wanted to believe that he was still a good person. I left the car that day and walked over three miles to get back to my dorm. All the way back, I mulled over my naivety. It takes a lot to see the obvious.
When I look back on that experience, I’m grateful I came to my senses. Sometimes, you have to realize what you’re worth-and believe in it. I would rather be the awkward good girl any day, because that’s who I am.
Stacy Lipson
Philadelphia, PA
stacy.lipson@temple.edu
