Friendzoned.

I cringe every time I see that word, because to me it is the young, unloved child of a patriarchal misogynist culture. The angry, self-pitying sobs of unwarranted entitlement. “I spent a hundred dollars on that date, but she friendzoned me.”

I can’t help but think of a man who makes his way to a remote, exotic, hidden lake in the mountains. But he goes with the sole purpose of spending the day boating and, finding that no boat is made available to him, returns home in disgust and frustration. He declares all lakes are worthless and stupid. He spends the weekend watching Netflix and ranting on Facebook.

He is shored. Friendzoned.

But he is willfully so.

What if that man were to approach the lake with the simple expectation of finding just that, a lake? A beautiful, mysterious ecosystem full of wonder and secrets and depth beyond anything he knew before? A world previously unknown to him, with new perspectives and full of life that he can explore and search and enjoy and yes, maybe he gets to go boating some time. But maybe not and that’s ok too, because there is so much more to see and know. There are feelings and knowledge and questions and experiences. And this is all new. It is a micro-universe of marvels, and he missed it because he couldn’t ride a boat and he was unwilling to see beyond that.

He is shored, but willfully so. He was not thwarted by the lack of boats but by the narrowness of his own vision.

Selfriendzoned.