Setting these records straight for my own good

So, let's get one thing down in writing: I don't hate all men.

This trip has been eye-opening in a lot of ways. Let me start from the beginning. Way back in Texas.

When I was younger, my gay, sociopathic adopted uncle once told me that we come from a very "matriarchal" family. Me being roughly 12, about to hit puberty and an underestimated wave of awkwardness at the same time, I was dumbfounded as to the implications of this seemingly meaningless statement. Added to the contridicting scene, I am sure this topic was brought up whilst watching re-runs on MTV while I scarfed away a plate full of Pizza Rolls that made this conversation difficult to take seriously. But I remember it.

When you're 12, and a nerdy girl with no real role model to look up to, you're bound to dislike yourself in some form or another. I buried my awkwardness in sports and music, wasting weekends in shifty guitar lessons while other girls gave blow jobs in the back seat of a mustang in the parking lot of our town mall. I have a feeling my mom was happy that I was awkward, to say the least, because she never had to worry about me staying out with whatshisname, it was always a few set of ladies I latched onto. Family life was good, as we all looked to my grandparents for guidance and reassurance. It seems if you spend half of your life being on missions halfway across the world, you are bound to learn how to reach people somehow. Regardless of religion, I was still a lady, and I was still young and impressionable.

High school hit, and so did my chance to date and ignore everything my family told me to do. I got a stable boyfriend, which was probably still to my parents' liking. Unlike a few of my friends at the time, I didn't sporadically date too often. All the while my mother repeats in my ears, first in whispers, then in shouts that no woman needs a man to be happy. Pshaw mom, did you see that couple that just walked by? Life is made for growing up and getting married and popping out those fresh white kids. No matter how antidisestablishment I wanted to be (thanks Green Day!), I was buying into this cheap clearance American dream, and biding my time until it was sure to fall into my lap.

I saw how my family turned to my Grandmother for support. Always like the branches of an oak tree, free to grow away but still invariably attatched to a strong core, she was our grounding in the family. Mom continued to push me to develop my own strengths as a lady, but at the same time, I didn't even know what it was meant to be one. I saw how my parents' marriage was working out, and then started to see that life wasn't so sugar-coated, and life can sour over the years.

College was a bit more difficult, as I started to really question why I was dating the people I was, and if it was out of a false sense of security or just some reason to go out on weekends. Mom would rather me be like her in her 20-somethings: Driven, wise but reserved, and extremely self-sufficient. I got many 'You don't need a man,' talks during this time, seeing how my older cousins were a few years my senior and marrying the first man that took them on a date.

After a few half-boyfriends here and there, with no real satisfaction or real reason to put so much of myself into this "romance" thing, I stopped trying to be a girlfriend and started just straight up exploiting guys. Enter the man hating years. And this is where I have been for about 3 of my adult years so far.

I have to say, despite my constant complaints about how horrible men can be and how girls that get boyfriends in college have no real soul and are just shells of people (I'm not mean, am I?), my Mom was proud. This girl that couldn't have called a guy in high school to save her life was now taking them by the horns and leaving them high and dry. Hey, if guys think they can buy a girl a 6 dollar cocktail and that gives them the right to sleep with them, why not take them for all they're worth?

Now, let's get one thing straight. I might be a man-eater, but I'm not cold blooded. I can usually see when someone is genuine, and I leave those guys alone. The same way I hated being taken advantage of, I knew it was not my right to love and leave the kind and soft-hearted. Only the assholes and selfish in Austin. And boy, does Austin have a few.

Somewhere down the line, I dropped the idea of actually dating for a relationship, seeing in it its futility. I had developed some theories about Austin, a live fast die fast approach to love and lust, and decided this was not for me. But in the meantime I was bored, and surrounded by colorful people everywhere. Graduation was on the horizon, and I was sure ready to get out of this town and the fleeting life it gave me. Then, just like that, a series of events fell into place.

And just like that, things change.

I approached this kid just like any other. Standing up straight, making sure not to give any credit where it was not yet due. We chit chatted about what we did in life and why we were there (oddly enough for the same reason, Austin has a lot of homeless men, too). The first few days I know a guy, there is an invisible barrier I put up between myself and them. No matter how cute or flattering, I always assume the worst in people. What can I say, a defense mechanism is a defense mechanism. But for some reason, this guy stuck around. This guy texted me. This guy called. This guy took me out. And lived up to what he promised. Such a difference from my childhood littered with shattered promises from my dad. It seems no matter how smart you are, you always wish your dad got you that pony for your birthday. And let it be known, trust in men is not one of my strong points.

But this kid lived up to them, and that is why I'm smiling again.

Now I live halfway across the globe from him, in a house full of estrogen and women. There are countless books about empowering women on the bookshelf, and endless talks about men and how to handle them. Yes, even when women are alone with each other, we still indulge in romance talks. Sierra's mom is one of the strongest and most beautiful ladies I have ever met, and I am glad to be around a strong feminist like her. And in a country like Germany, these ladies are hard to hold onto.

Slowly I am starting to see life not in terms of absolutes, but in grey areas that can be dealt with based on the situation. Not all men are bad, just like not all women are guiltless. This life isn't black and white, and the way I see colors, I should have never thought it was. We all have our own strengths, and its up to us to find that happy balance to make the best out of them. As it turns out, I might have just been with onetoomany guys who just disregarded my true self, leaving behind questions of whether you could ever be open and honest with someone and still be happy.

And by golly, I think I might just be able to.