Thought Catalog

I Am Not The Girl You Take Home

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strong woman, anti-hookup culture, female perspective
Daniel Apodaca

I am not the girl you see across the bar and try to coerce with smooth words and sugary drinks. I will not get caught up in the taste of your lips or the way my name sounds like honey in your mouth. You can try to sweet talk me, try to pull me in with the curve of your smile and a hand on the small of my back.

But no matter how hard you try, no matter how heavy you flirt, I’m taking myself home tonight.

I will smile at you. I will laugh with you. When you buy me a drink, I’ll accept, and more often than not I’ll buy you one in return. I’ll dance with you, let you spin me in circles as the guitarist strums or the bass blares through the speaker. We can exchange names and numbers. You can wink at me with those glossy eyes and I’ll blush back, the rosy color still visible in the dark light of the bar.

But if you think I’ve fallen for your charm, your smoothness, your games, you’re mistaken. Because for me, it’s not that easy.

I’m not the girl you get to desire, simply because the liquor’s talking and you’re bolder now than you would have been if you saw me walking down the street. I’m not the girl you get to lean into when use it’s late and you’re aching for a warm body next to yours.

I’m not the girl you choose temporarily, only for the emotions to fade when the sun rises. I’m not the girl you have just for one night because you’re letting lust speak before anything else falls from your lips.

I am not the girl you take home. I am not the girl whose worth is determined by a few drinks at a crowded bar, whose body is seen as an object, a conquest rather than a breathing, beating heart.

I am not the girl who you see as something to fill a void, something to touch, to enjoy. I am not a gift you get to unwrap at the end of the night, another item you can ingest like those shots of tequila, going down quick.

No. I am the girl whose words fill your mind, whose presence makes you think, whose absence at closing time shows that no matter how many drinks we both sip, I’m still grounded in my self-worth.

I am the girl who knows what she wants, who is aware of her needs, who wants to be someone’s something rather than someone’s just-for-the-night. Who values herself, her heart more than to simply be a notch in a bedpost, a name on a list.

I am the girl who is unafraid to be bold, to say, ‘text me tomorrow,’ with a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. I am the girl who makes her own rules, who doesn’t follow the guidelines of modern hookup culture but demands something better, something passionate, something real.

I am the girl who, at the end of the night, walks home alone but is not lonely.

Because I know there’s something far more meaningful waiting when I wake up tomorrow morning to an empty bed and a text message from someone who wants to see me, rather than touch me.

Because in searching for something that lasts, I won’t fall for temporary embraces. I won’t get caught up in kisses that taste like whiskey and wasted energy. I won’t let myself believe there’s something there without seeing what happens when we’re sober, when the magic of the night fades and we can smile, bright and clear-eyed at one another, to see if we still feel a connection.

No I am not the girl you get to hold for a moment, then let go of. The girl whose worth is determined by the eagerness of your hands.

I am not disposable, not short-term or short-lived. I am hands to hold, a heart to entangle with, a kiss that’s filled with emotion and intention. I am a not just a body, but a soul who longs to know you when the buzz fades and the new day breaks.

So if you’re still so caught up when morning comes, call me.
And we’ll see where this thing goes. TC mark


Marisa Donnelly is a poet and author of the book, Somewhere on a Highway, available here.

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