Pick me Girl

I observed a pick me girl in the wild life, directing her entire being towards two performative men in a very obvious way. You could see it in her hands, constantly touching, somewhere between maternal gestures and slightly sexual ones. She was relaxed, playful, effortless, and affirming in almost every action. She gave these men endless attention, and I was shocked at how little they gave back. This all happened in the middle of the workplace, and the two men seemed like sixteen-year-old boys, relatively twinky, a mix of sportswear, knitted colorful clothes, and non-waterproof shoes.

This interaction between the pick me girl and the performative male revealed a phenomenon I perceived: young men who easily attach because they only want to collect female attention without responsibility or consequences, or better, no accountability but deeply concerned about a hurt or humiliation their parents gave them. But you cannot criticize them much because their queer appearance seems to free them from misogyny. You see characters, desperate child selves, longing for authentic connection. I want to hug them all, and I notice how dismissive they all are toward women, especially the pick me girl, who hates that another woman could steal their boys. Those boys don’t like mysterious genders; they just like the idea of being the chosen ones with a lack of self-confidence, searching for support. But maybe I will hold my breath, knowing I could easily become their next victim.

I wonder what it will be like for us over thirty-five, over forty, over fifty. The leftovers, the singles, because they do not compromise with half-backed dildos. There is little choice because older men from previous generations are only now separating from their wives. Yet their narcissism and egocentric behavior, sometimes patriarchal and misogynistic, is still active and can be passed on, almost unconsciously, to their children.

All my friends talk about wanting children right now or about not living a life like Bachmann, you know, the cigarette and the cat. Sterbend im Feuer. Apparently this phenomenon is strong and people look at me with pity. Why didn’t you manage to have him choose you? Yes, this text is heteronormative this time, even though I am bi. I believe in queer communities that hold together. But do we really believe in friendship?

Sexuality for me is strongly about desire, where giving and surrender are implied. I like it when someone shows clear, perceptible attention. I will try with the pick me girl and see what happens, and maybe in the end the pick me girl will pick her little inner girl. And the real action is the little dudes becoming actual adults, so that maybe when they are parents or guardians they make the Daddy or Mama issue disappear. Sure, they experienced violence too, but they pay a less severe price of humiliation.