Confessions of an Alleged Good Girl

by Joya Goffney

I feel like I just made room for myself.

“I feel like people are more comfortable watching someone get bullied and judged in public than they are watching other people kiss and hug. That’s pretty twisted.”

You don’t need to change anything for anyone. Not one thing.”

“I won’t fall!” I shout, confident, because I’m not rushing. I’m enjoying every step, considering every option, testing my weight, before committing to any one branch.

“Because.” He slides his fingers through mine. “Whatever you want to do, I’m willing to make it work.”

I don’t have to do anything to make him want to be near me. I can just be.

I plop down on the couch, mostly because his admissions are leaving me weak in the knees. He stalks closer. “Why are you here?” I ask too quietly, because I’m scared of his answer. “For you,” he says, sitting next to me on the couch. “I just want to be near you. We can do whatever you want to do, as long as I can be close to you.”

I’m melting into him, like a chocolate kiss in the sun.

But I mostly feel proud—proud to be surrounded by women who have my back.

Because look at how far I’ve come since then. And even when I was up in the tree, I’d come a long way. I took my time and made some tough decisions. I’ve been discovering who I am and what I want—and why I’m a catch.