Friday afternoon I got a voicemail message from my friend Mark:
“Hi Alisa. I was calling to see if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I invited some of the guys over and well, your one of the guys. Let me know. Bye.”
This message took me a back a bit. It was the first time in my life I had been referred to as “one of the guys”. I didn’t think much of it, but then I changed my shirt to a cute pink blouse. When calling Mark back to confirm plans I ask if I could bring anything. He said a desert would be good. So I made a homemade tart and bought Mike’s hard lemonade (girly drink, not beer) for the evening. I even put on a little more makeup (eyeshadow). Not that this group of guys I care that they think of me as “one of the guys” but I don’t think I liked being called that. I like the fact that God created me a girl and I like that I embrace that. So I was just embracing it a little more with these guys, even during Mission Impossible:3, covering my eyes during parts and jumping in my seat. By the end of the night I was more than done being around manly men and even told them I enjoyed boys night out but glad it was coming to a close (a little too much gas being passed freely). Just interesting the little things I found myself doing (subconsciously or not) to show outwardly how girly I am.