Walking the Walk

Last night, after I wrote (very briefly) about not having regrets, I wondered why I was sitting home alone on a Saturday night -- particularly a Saturday night when my son's band was playing ten minutes from my house. Instead of overthinking it, I picked up my purse and went out. Even though I'm very tired today -- it seems that no matter what time I go to bed, I wake up sometime between four and six in the morning -- I had a fantastic time. All of the kids were happy to see me, and vice versa. I know they aren't really my kids, but it's hard for me not to feel like they are. Apart from the kids -- by which I mean all the people I know who come out to see the band on a regular basis, most of whom are under thirty -- there were some interesting folks. One guy, who I thought was bothering a young man I know quite well, ended up bothering me after I mistakenly "saved" the young man. This is part of my problem when I go out with all of these young people: I want to protect them, whether they need it or not. The mama bear in me comes out, and I turn into a resting vigilante, ready to tear apart anyone who messes with my cubs.

What's funny, but perhaps not surprising, is that the kids are the same with me. Since my son and his bandmates are onstage most of the time I'm out to see them (sometimes I stay for the other bands), their friends keep a watchful eye on me too, but they are much more subtle in their protection of me than I am in mine of them. One of them noticed the creepy dude (mentioned above) following me wherever I went, and he said, "You know, you have literally dozens of big guys here to help if you need us." I loved that, especially as this fellow was one I know less well than most of them. And I also know it's true; for the most part, they know I can handle myself. If they ever see I'm in a spot where I can't, they would take someone down in an instant for messing with me.

I'm usually a very peaceful and friendly person, and my happy and open disposition is sometimes confused for flirtation/interest. It isn't meant to be. I love that I can hug all the "band boys" and they know it's just my way (and theirs) of showing mutual affection. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not shy. I'll talk to anyone, anytime, anywhere. The problem is the people who don't know me, and think if I'm talking to them, I'm showing more than polite and friendly interest. Someday I'll figure out places to go where there are more people closer to my age, with sufficient social skills to understand that a courteous hello is not an invitation to follow me around all night. Until then, I'm happy to get out and have fun with my "young people".