Comfortable in your own skin – the phrase tossed around casually as a measuring stick for appropriate self-acceptance. I shrug at its mention-not me. Then I wonder; was there ever a time I was comfortable? The answer was not so much a surprise as a revelation: there had been one moment, but was it even my skin I was comfortable in?
*
Toby was sixteen, part of the high school boy crowd that cruised the regular teen hot spots in their Volkswagens and Toyota pick-up trucks on Saturday nights. My best friends Lisa, Julie and I hung out with this group occasionally (if we were able to sneak away from Lisa’s house at a sleepover). The obvious allure was the teenage boy-ness. The bonus was the fact they didn’t care that we were still in middle school and only thirteen.
On one Saturday night, Lisa, a confident, petite blonde with big green eyes, was surprised to find that when she flirted with Toby, he flirted back. This went on for a few more weekends while she patiently waited for him to make a move. Then, Toby blew her off; acted like she didn’t exist. Julie and I were outraged on behalf of our heartbroken friend. The three of us resolved to make him pay.
The Scheme
More sophisticated than our usual fare of prank calls, toilet papering houses, and generic harassment; our plan for Toby required strategy, fearlessness and luck. And, as it turned out, it needed me; someone Toby wouldn’t recognize. I had not been around. I would be a mystery girl who would lure Toby in and then dump him. I took the mystery part literally. It was as if I believed I couldn’t complete the assignment unless I was someone else. Oddly, that was the part that sounded fun and excited me. Especially since I knew exactly who I would be.
The Bait
Claudia was my friend who lived in Ohio. I had coveted her life since we were little kids spending summer vacations together in the same California beach town. Now I was going to assume her life as my own. Everything about Claudia’s life was the exact opposite of my own. Her mom didn’t wear make-up, her parents allowed Froot Loops for breakfast, and they ate every vacation night dinner in places that had kid’s menus. Her self-confidence escaped me. I was mesmerized by the ease with which she moved through life; a wonderful mixture of pride, sass and being comfortable. By the time she was thirteen, she was on her second serious boyfriend. That’s not counting the endless stream of boys who had crushes on her. If I could pretend to be a girl like Claudia, I was certain Toby would be interested.
As a visiting relative of Julie’s, I would be Ginnie, Toby’s prospective make-believe girlfriend.
The Meeting
Ginnie was introduced to Toby on the second to last Saturday night of summer. With Lisa and Julie by my side, I flirted with intoxicating abandon. My assumed identity thrilled me. Toby was immediately interested. Since he mentioned his job at Jan’s, a local donut shop, Ginnie “surprised” him the following day with a late afternoon visit. The casual drop by was anything but. My friends and I planned every detail: from Ginnie’s white capri pants, t-shirt and low-heel sandals to the borrowed details of Claudia’s life for conversation. A genuine smile stretched across Toby’s face when he saw me. He fussed with his longish, brown hair until it covered the acne that dotted his cheeks.
Even as he flirted nervously, it was obvious I wasn’t going to keep him from doing his job. He excused himself to ring up sales of buttermilk bars and powdered sugar donuts in between our conversation. We bemoaned the end-of-summer and going back to school. He talked mostly about his friends and his truck. Ginnie shared details about life in Ohio right down to her dad’s furniture manufacturing business. I never felt one flutter of nerves while I presented myself as a completely different person. It all flowed as easily as if I were talking about myself. Toby listened with a smile on his face. I knew he liked Ginnie, and I liked that. As I edged toward the door and said good-bye, he asked me for a date on Saturday night to go cruising. I hoped I was Ginnie enough in my response; cool and composed, but I said, “Yeah” with a little more enthusiasm and volume than was necessary.
Back at Julie’s house for the debrief, we could hardly believe how well our plan was going. We were giddy with the prospect of sweet revenge for Lisa, so I kept secret the fact that being Ginnie was exciting. Feeling cute, flirting confidently, and having a boy tell me I was pretty were all the things I imagined teenage girl life should be. It wasn’t that I was interested in Toby, but I was very interested in going on my first date.
The Date
We arranged a sleepover at Lisa’s sister’s apartment that would pose as the relative’s house where Ginnie was staying. I spent the day at the beach with my sister, working on my tan since she’d agreed to loan me her strapless wrap dress (never asking why I wanted to borrow it). Lisa provided a pair of high-heeled, pink strappy sandals from her sister’s closet to complete my look. Toby would pick Ginnie up out front at seven-thirty. We buzzed with anticipation for the sting that was also my first-ever date.
Julie and Lisa would hide to watch. Lisa especially wanted to see Toby’s face as he fell; expectant and unaware, into the trap we had laid for him. As perfect as our plan was, how seamlessly it had unfolded, we had no strategy for what Ginnie was supposed to do on the date. The main objective was always to reject him as payback for his blowing Lisa off. But we didn’t think about what Toby might expect from Ginnie in a strapless dress and high-heeled sandals as she slid into the front seat of his car; a night of cruising ahead of them.
Julie and Lisa did their best to be quiet, but muffled laughter rose from the bushes behind where I stood on the sidewalk. It was weird to be so disconnected from my friends, hearing them, but unable to join in. My thirteen-year-old feet were not really built for the borrowed shoes that pinched my toes. A strange loneliness overtook me while I waited. And waited. And waited. Hopeful anticipation rose and fell with each set of headlights that came down the block but never stopped.
The girls finally emerged from their hiding place at eight o’clock. Julie said it was obvious Toby was not going to show up. I nodded, even though I didn’t want it to be true. Lisa called him a loser and declared this wasn’t going to ruin our night. I winced with every step as I followed them back up to the apartment, a pink sandal in each hand.
The Let Down
At Julie’s insistence, I called Toby to see what happened. He was apologetic, but less convincing in delivering the excuse that he was stuck at a family event. It was easy, for Ginnie to brush off his no-show, even though for me it was an enormous let down. The end of the romance, such as it was.
My friends quickly shook off the whole misadventure. They slipped easily back into the fun we typically had at a sleepover. I shoveled popcorn in my mouth and didn’t object to anything they wanted to watch on TV. For them, it was Saturday. For me, it was a moment on a cool summer night in someone else’s strappy sandals and my sister’s dress, a dream drifted away with every car that didn’t stop to pick me up.
The Aftermath
If pretending to be Ginnie provided freedom for me to be a confident girl, why didn’t it occur to me to pretendI was confident? Maybe that could have been the first step in becoming comfortable in my own skin-for real.
***
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