I'm a boy

1) We're playing volleyball last night, and one of my good friends says that the girls will rotate in for each other, and then names off all the girls... but leaves my name out. "What about me?!" I ask, only half-mad.
He looks at me and says without even a hint of sarcasm, "You're not a girl, you're one of the guys."

2) I'm talking about wanting to walk to this festival this weekend, and R. shoots down the idea, saying, "We'd sweat our balls off."
"I don't have balls," I point out.
"Yes, you do."

3) On the phone with my mom: "Mom, I got called a boy twice today." Then I proceed to rant about R. (details coming) and not five minutes later she says, apparently unaware of the irony, "So you're the boy in the relationship?"

... I have long been "one of the boys" and have long considered my psyche more akin to that of the opposite gender in ways that I handle relationships, both romantic and platonic. I also enjoy sports, cars, and beer, which are all stereotypical manly pursuits. I have never had a problem with it, and it has helped me earn street cred as a basketball player. But it might be causing problems now.

After three hours of volleyball last night, R. wanted me to stop by his house. He knew I was sweaty and sandy, yet he wanted me to come over, since we hadn't seen each other in a week. I don't have a problem with being dirty, and he invited me knowing the circumstances, so naturally I went. He didn't kiss me. Not when I came in, not while I stood there for an hour, not when I left.

Okay, I might have smelled like outdoors, sand and sweat, and I know my dog smelled like the sewage she played in, but despite it all I am an attractive individual, and my lips certainly weren't dirty. I lick them, after all. WTF?!

This rant isn't about him not liking me. I'm past that stage. Is he not physically attracted to me? Am I too relaxed... or too much like a boy? Which brings me to my other point, which is that I am worried that this has something to do with my athleticism. He said casually, "so you've been playing a lot of volleyball lately." I replied, "Yeah! It's so fun! I'm trying to get good!" He pressed me on why I wanted to get good, and didn't seem to really understand.

Who doesn't want to be good at sports?! I'm not used to being some cute mildly athletic girl who tries to play sports... I've played sports at elite levels (division I basketball and track) and am very competitive, so of course I don't want to suck at volleyball! Besides, it's an amazing challenge to teach your body new ways to react, new techniques to get the ball where you want it to go, and to learn the timing of how to spike or serve a ball. It's just awesome!

And see, that's me. That's who I am. Meeting me at run club, an athletic event, you'd think R. would understand that about me... but maybe not. But that isn't going to change. So maybe, if I'm being the boy and all into sports and such, I'm going to have to make the moves... maybe that's what this means. If I'm going to talk the talk of being the boy, perhaps I should walk the walk?