Here’s what I want to know (but already know the answer to): what about all the girls who didn’t get sweated by the homeboys, back in high school? Because that was me. A shy, insecure wallflower, huddled in the corner over a novel or a notebook. Too scared of boys (let alone homeboys) to glance up long enough to see if any of them did look interested. I was not crazy cool, by any stretch of the imagination. Instead, I was always running off to be alone somewhere. Alone was where I didn’t have to worry about how I looked, or whether I was fitting in well enough for anyone to want to be my friend. Back then, I took my introversion on the chin. Things started to change the fall before I turned 20, when I decided it was high time I finally lost my virginity. So I picked a relatively cute guy in my political science class and basically threw myself at him, as awkwardly as a right-hander trying to throw a left-hand pitch. It “worked,” in the sense that I lost what I was dying to lose. But my not-crazy cool, needy awkwardness would set the stage for sabotaging the next 25 years of (terrible) relationships. Relationships in which I never got what I wanted, because at heart I never believed I was worth all that much. When I see younger women today who are able to set boundaries and refuse to settle, I am filled with awe and admiration. I guess that’s what it means for a girl to be crazy cool — to have complete faith in your desirability, and command nothing less than True Love (or the latest Lexus or Louis Vuitton bag, depending on your priorities), as a result. I hope I’ll get there one day, myself. Until then, you can find me happily introverting my nights away, having restored myself to my original, virgin innocence. ❤️‍🔥—Y.B.D.