So I had the funniest moment yesterday while I was driving in my car. I was on my way to my friend‘s house to celebrate her birthday by going on a haunted hayride and I was thinking about my life in general and I started to tear up because of how good I feel. And what makes this funny is that I realized that I’m probably PMSing, and I started laughing out loud because of the fact that it is just impossible to make it through that part of the month without tears.
Now that all the male readers have clicked away, ladies I have to talk to you about something I started thinking about while my girlfriends and I were on a haunted hayride last night: how that man, your man, is not the only person in the world who can help you with [insert thing you need help with].
OK. So last night, my friend got some of us young women together because the way she wanted to celebrate her birthday was by going through a haunted house and hayride.
Let me tell you a little something about me.
My favorite movie is 13 Going on 30. I get creeped out by the “Are You Afraid of the Dark” opening credits. I like to say I want to go through a haunted house, but I never actually go to them because I am a big fat chicken and I cannot, CANNOT bring myself to pay money for things that I think will make me feel negative feelings and possibly give me nightmares.
Although I do enjoy a good zombie apocalypse story.
The Haunted Experience was a 3-part fun-fest–Field of Screams, Village of the Dead and the Haunted Hayride.
We went to the Field of Screams first. As we went through the entrance, the witch who checked our tickets bid us, “Bye Bye.” Yeah, OK. Funny. We all giggle and then she goes, “No, really. Bye bye.”
I’m like…uh…that’s foreboding.
So anyway, we’re standing in line and the ground is wet and there’s all kinds of creepy symbols drawn on the barns and stuff around us and it smells like manure and people in torn witch and ghoul costumes are saying creepy stuff in affected British accents (I guess the British are kind of creepy), and I’m somewhere between trying to convince our group of five that it’s best that we walk through this field arm-in-arm (so we don’t lose each other) and not insisting that I be on the middle because I don’t want to seem like quite as big of a punk as I am.
So we go in and I’m trying to be big and brave and talk tough, but because of the terror that is apparent on my face all of the monsters begin to follow me, personally, untill I shriek “OK GUYS WILL YOU PLEASE STOP FOLLOWING ME NOW!!” at which point one of the nicer monsters whispers in my ear “Sorry, we have to.”
Finally, these guys stop following me because we come up to a building. And the inside of this building is not only pitch black, but also tight like the inside of one of those blood pressure arm band things, and they expect you to go through it as part of the haunted house experience.
I almost peed myself.
I was like “NO. I am not going in there. I can’t do it. Sorry. No frickin way.”
And my friend locked arms with me and was like “Yes you can, we got you, and anyway do you really want to go back out to that field with all those monsters?”
Long story short, with the help and support of my girlfriends I made it through the haunted hayride thing without any sort of bodily function malfunctions or crying (OK I cried a little but it was just, like, a teeny tiny bit), and it kinda got me to thinkin, like all things do, about how if this had been even a year ago, I would have only, only wanted to do that haunted experience with a guy.
I would have wanted him there to “protect me.”
This morning, as I was dragging my tired carcass out my bed to get ready for church, I thought about it more. About how, at least for me, maybe y’all don’t do this, but when I meet a guy I like I tend to turn him into my personal savior and he becomes my go-to hero every time my car needs work or I catch a cold or I need homework help or I need something heavy moved from one end of my apartment to the other.
He becomes the only person alive who can help me navigate through this treacherous world.
One of the most hard-to-digest dating and relationship lessons I had to eat was the fact that these men are not here to help me get through the world. They’re not here to smooth over my insecurities; they are not here to redeem my past mistakes; they are not here as the culmination of previous life events that were pointing toward their ultimate arrival at which point my life would be saved.
Basically, he ain’t Jesus.
He is just a guy, and he is not the only person in the world who can study with you or help you get your car fixed or bring you cough syrup or chicken soup when you’re sick. And he’s not the only person in the world who will give you their arm and tell you they got your back when you’re about to quit the Haunted Field of the Dead Hayride because it’s too dark and there are weird noises and you’re just too scared to do it alone.
- 10 Most Haunted Cities In America (PHOTOS) (huffingtonpost.com)
- Ripley’s Haunted Adventure Celebrates 15 Nights of Halloween (prweb.com)
- “Buried Alive!” Returns with Maximum Terror This Halloween (eon.businesswire.com)