Dear Men-- Rachel

Dear Men,

What a pleasure it’s been to meet with you today. I’m glad that you guys in the back, yes, you—the ex-boyfriends—could attend today.  Oh, and could you ask your wives to leave? That’d be great.

As a young lass, I had plenty of experience in my kissing tag days, so I knew that I would be an intimidating pawn in the dating game. I will admit that most of the time, I was daydreaming about Nick Carter and hoping that I could get some Old Navy jeans for Christmas, so I apologize for taking my eye from the prize.

When I ran for student council in junior high school, my slogan ran true as: “the bodacious beast.” I’m sure you can assume that I was popular with a title like that. I lost the first running, a stained record to never be lost from my memory.

When I was a young girl, sports didn’t thrill me as an average enough social activity; I knew that I needed to try something that was more universally accepted by many people my age: Classical music. I think the whole powdered wig image is what really drew me in.

I started playing the cello—an oversized guitar, to drag into school along with my epic, jean “wookie” coat that had brown fur on the inner lining bursting out the sleeves and collar. I know; you’re already smitten!

I thought I could be a star. My two friends and I created a girl band, choreographed dances to A*teens, took photo-shoots, and wrote handwritten stories about our adventures on black stallions. I went through various hair colors and styles. At one point I had braces, glasses, and an inhaler, the perfect formula for loser, right?

I came out of high school knowing the correct time to jump down the aisle in a white dress was within the span of a year and 27 days after receiving my diploma. I mean, heck—most of my friends were done before the commencement speech started.

Even with my straight teeth, contacts and shaped eyebrows, I was always “the friend” to the girl everyone wanted to date, and I was overlooked.

In college I thought that a man, possibly one of you, would eventually show up, out of nowhere, and start seeing what I really had to offer. Then my college boyfriend number one showed up, and for the first time since I was sixteen, he got to see the best of me.  

Late in our summer of dating, we decided to go ice blocking. How romantic…I remember it like it was yesterday— or a few days before that. We found a quaint hill near a church to slide down. He had never been before, so a devious part of me was excited for an embarrassing moment…for him of course.

Merrily sliding on the ice, it’s expected one would gracefully roll off the ice block, slowly swing to your back in laughter…hair gracefully framing your face... possibly a beam of sunlight in your eye…you get the picture. So you can see how this activity is so prominent in current dating scenarios. 

Unfortunately this isn’t “13 going on 30,” and I don’t fall off ice as gracefully as Jennifer Garner falls off swings. Instead of a romantic kiss, I get freshly mown [wet] grass in my hair, which was then smeared across my face. Luckily he knew me as a bit clumsy, so maybe he thought this was cute.

After many mindless tricks and activity on the ice and hill, I started to feel a sensation on the skin area between my nose and my right eye. I continued to rub it thinking some sort of debris was caught in my eye. He kept examining it to find nothing. After the feeling began to intensify, I ran to the car to look in the side mirror. Oh. My eye was growing. Swelling. Inflamed. In short, I had a “Hitch” allergic reaction. I needed extreme Benadryl. If you ever had your face look a bit like Quasimodo, you can probably relate.

I think I’m an odd case. When roommates come to me for hilarious date stories and every embarrassing moment you can think of has happened to me on a date, you can assume that there was an evil leprechaun following me around making sure I’d pitifully fail the dating game. Either that or I was just unattractive.

But let me straighten something out for all of you here that are listening…the latter of the options is not the cause of my “failure.”

What most people don’t see behind my tripping down the stairs, and my stained white shorts, is that I am an amazing person. I’m not going to sit here and brag, but I have a lot of things to offer in the world. That instrument that I scratched away on, (and most boyfriends glazed over while I played for them) became the vehicle for my master’s degree at prestigious music schools across the country. 

Through playing the cello, I gained countless friendships, influenced people, and was a role model for many girls in my high school that I wasn’t even aware of. Not only that, but I have had many spiritual experiences to move emotions through those that listen while I play.

Not only in music, but in art I excelled. When I was in high school I had an opportunity to study with a professional oil painter who worked for the LDS church. Through my work, and sheer luck, I was asked to participate in a committee to help paint a mural for one of the LDS temples. What an incredible experience. Throughout junior high and high school I was the top of my art classes. I took two years of advanced placement art. A piece from my high school portfolio was chosen to be on display in an art gallery in Springville. I also won a writing contest during my sophomore year.

I graduated from Utah State University with an award in outstanding achievement. I had the privilege to take private lessons from Anne Francis of The Fry Street Quartet, which taught me much more than music; lessons taught me how to be a strong, hardworking, and a kind person.

While traveling for graduate auditions, I had lessons from prestigious cellists in Houston, Austin, and Atlanta. In 2010, I participated in the International Suzuki String Institute and was certified to teach. Currently I’m teaching a wonderful studio of cellists through private instruction, which brings me so much happiness. I thrive off of inspiring and lifting other people up. 

I believe in hard work, and having a spiritual relationship with God. I love children, and with more than five years of nanny experience which included washing, cleaning, errands, upkeep, homework, babies and socializing with children, I know that I am prepared to be a great mother. And guess what guys: I love to cook.

The point I’m trying to reach here is that there are many girls out there with a soul full of amazing things that you will love to dig up and find. The girl that seemed so pathetic and lonely is actually a successful and genuinely happy person. The girl that was overlooked had blossoms underneath her insecurities. The girl that didn’t get picked for high school prom turned out to be the woman with a master’s degree and a steady job. The girl that never really sticks out in your perspective may be that girl that has everything that you want— you just haven’t looked close enough.

I think a big problem we have in the dating world nowadays is that people do not try because they are afraid of failure or disappointment. Without trying, or looking, you simply cannot complain that you may not find someone that’s perfect for you.

Some of my kindest and most successful friends are those that are not yet married. They are beautiful with so much life experience. This saddens me. I am lucky to have them in my life; why hasn’t anyone seen their worth like I see it? The man that finally looks to see them— really see them—will have a wealth to explore.

Men: You need to look— possibly beyond appearance and first impressions. Search. Find them. It will not only make you happy, but them as well. The experience may be hard and discouraging at times, but it will toughen you and teach you. Why is that bad?

And you know what else? I didn’t get rejected by any of those past relationships; those men saw something in me. I’ve broken up with every boyfriend I’ve ever had. Mind you, there haven’t been many, but I know that I am no sore loser. I am happy that my ex’s have found others to be with, but I know I am of worth and I deserve someone grand, yet simple. And without doubt, there are other girls just like me out there, waiting to be discovered.