Riddle me this: How is it that a majority of men are so adamant about wanting a woman who is wife material and loyal and honest and completely committed to them, yet when they start to casually date someone and she mentions that she is totally down for said commitment, they flip the proverbial table and storm out?
Here’s my issue. All the men I’ve met over the past year seem to have one major thing in common: they’re swerving in and out of traffic and are completely incapable of picking a lane and staying there. They want the emotional stability that comes with being in a monogamous relationship, yet they still kind of want to be able wag their genitals all over the place and slide into the DMs of innocent bystanders and go fuck up somebody else’s whole routine, meanwhile still stringing along Girl #1 who they USED to be crazy amounts of into but somehow that changed due to oh, idk, mega fucking A.D.D. or something.
I don’t go in to meeting a guy or seeing a guy with the notion that “He’s likely 50% fuckboy but I’m going to give it a go.” No. Of course not. In fact, I used to think that my screening process was pretty good. I’d subtly ask several layers of questions right off the bat, from which I figured I could then deduce what their precise intentions/goals were. Luckily, this has resulted in me meeting several wonderful men, all of whom I’ve felt I could potentially have a future with, up until a couple months after the initial meeting at which point they retract their original statements and I’m back at square one.
This is infuriating on several levels. First of all, it’s false advertising. Don’t date me and be sweet to me and get intimate with me and send me cute texts and call me just to see how my day is going, and then change your mind and say something gross like “I feel like I’m not ready for commitment” or “You seem to want commitment” – Like of course I want commitment DICKWAD I told you this right off the bat. But they’re shocked, right. Legitimately shocked when I start to feel connected to them after a few months of their playing to my emotional vulnerabilities and preferences.
Every time this happens, every single time, I go through several stages. While some are more intense/lengthy depending on the man or the situation, they’re always the same stages. First, I feel irrationally surprised: “It seemed SO PROMISING, HOW could he SUDDENLY just SUCK so MUCH?!”. Then, I feel sad: “Poor me and my feelings. Nobody wants to commit to me, I’m so blue, wah wah wah self-pity”. Next comes contemplation: “There’s got to be a reason this happened”; followed by research/detective mode “I’m going to seek wisdom from Sex and the City and then read an academic journal on male psychology”. When ALL these stages fail me, I enter exhaustion, at which point I also reach the “I’m a boss ass bitch who don’t need no mans”, followed swiftly by “but I’m lonely and crave companionship” which is when I usually re-download Tinder for the 1000th time and hit the next and final stage of the cycle wherein I spend my time doing a 50/50 split of shopping for a new man and hating myself.
Let me make it very clear that I don’t want to have a man in my life in order that I will feel complete or validated. I’m more than aware of what I offer and am capable of and the fact that my personality is tucked nicely inside what is a pretty great body for a 26 year old woman. I lack very little. However, the one thing I absolutely DO lack is patience. I’m impatient. My vagina is also impatient. Allow me to elaborate:
My default speed in life is “rushed”. Even when I have no deadlines, no set time constraints, no real emergency. I drive like I’m an extra on The Fast & the Furious, I walk like a New Yorker, and believe me when I say if someone in the mall is meandering slowly in front of me I will damn near run right over them. I text back right away, I obsessively tackle tasks in a day that I have a week to complete, I am a bonafide Type A. I’m pretty much incapable of doing anything slowly.
Of course, in not much time at all, this has managed to translate into my dating life. I meet a guy, we talk for several days, we hang out once or twice before we have sex, it’s nonstop all over each other honeymoon phase for a month tops before things start to cool off, and then that’s where the Him and the Me go in opposite directions. You see, I begin to feel comfortable at this point. I’m happy. This is someone I could spend some real, legitimate time with. On the other hand, however, He starts to feel like “why are things slowing down? You mean it won’t be this hot and heavy all the time?”, which is then when he forgets that I’m interesting and a package deal and starts to look for greener pastures. For the longest time, I’ve resented men for this mentality, when in reality, I need to take some responsibility. Men will always pay the most attention to sex. They can pay attention to other things, but sex is in the front, at the top, blaring in their face, most of the time. So when that is what I present as one of my best “selling features” so to speak, small freaking wonder that they completely forget about everything else I have to offer. All of a sudden I’m just catering to the “genital wagging” desires instead of the deeper ones, like intimacy and intellect and commitment. As much as I hate comparing myself to livestock, the saying really is true: Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?
I really truly do hate that idiom because it’s SO DAMN APPLICABLE to my life. My whole screening process is garbage. Honestly. Any man who is given sex right off the bat is going to assume he doesn’t have to work hard for anything else in the relationship (which most times means the problems I’m having currently, of them not even seeing the point of being in a committed relationship at all because HEY, I’m already handing out wifey privileges).
I’m *really* hating myself right now.
So I have to stop. I have to just stop. I have to get off the merry-go-round and stop the cycle and *slow* the *hell* down. I have to fight every urge when I meet a guy to show off all my wife-ness right off the bat. I need to not be spending $150 on groceries so I can cook a guy an Italian feast FOR OUR SECOND DATE. I need him to not even see the inside of my apartment for at least three weeks. I need to stop listening to my HELLA bossy vagina and just invest in a really good vibrator or something because as soon as I have an orgasm that’s the results of another person’s handiwork, I get all caught up thinking “I’m gonna wife the hell out of this guy” and then within a couple weeks I’m re-downloading Tinder. And as much as I advertise that I’m personally avoiding hook-up culture, I’m TOTALLY participating in it without being aware that that’s what’s happening, and then I’m frustrated upon realizing that I’m just “hooking up”, regardless of my intentions or what I *actually* want.
So I think, horror of all horrors, I’m a large part of the problem here. Not all men are assholes. They just only have enough blood in their bodies to fuel one head at a time and I’ve been catering to the southern one this whole time and expecting non-sex-related results. Which is insane, and not working, obviously.
That said, I think I need to fast. Lent for my lady parts. This should not be difficult, because I know how to be happy alone. I’ve done it before and had the time of my life. The main reason I’ve been increasingly antsy about finding someone lately is because I just finished my degree (FINALLY), I have an incredible career that I’m doing really well in, and I’m finally settling into life and feeling like I’m ready to meet someone and have some stability. Again, this problem is due to my constant “rush” mode. I have zero chill.
In conclusion, I’m going back, yet again, to square one, but this time, I’m reinventing the square when I get there. The definition of insanity is basically, doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results. Time to Re. Invent. the Square.