Don't turn this blog post into a religious debate over roles of men and women. Not interested in that at the moment. I am more interested in exploring the needs and desires of single men who are looking for a "good woman". Recently I wrote about "the list" that many women have. Men have a list too. But fellas be careful that you can actually handle what's on that list.
Women tend to have lists made of characteristics that are unrealistic or unimportant. Men tend to put very real characteristics on the list. You know exactly the kind of woman you want to get, which is not always the kind of woman you want to BE WITH. For example, men are visual creatures. They want a woman that is pleasing to their eyes. She has to be sexy, beautiful, and enticing. When you meet her, you admire her body, her smile, her hair and all the dudes in your crew give you a high-five on having a "10". You love it...for a while. And then all the focus on her beauty wears thin. You become annoyed with men looking at her all the time. And if your boys happen to make mention of the fact that she's still a "10" then you look at them crossways.
Over the years the men who have courted me have been fairly consistent in their assessment. They pursued me because I was strong and smart, but sip tea with my pink in the air. They loved that I had a big personality and some money of my own. They liked the fact that I loved sports. They could take me to the game and actually have a good time without having to explain the rules, players, and goals. They loved that I'm fly and loved that they could take me to nice places and have luxury experiences with me. Yep, that's all well and good for a little while.
Then it goes like this...
I'm strong...but you want me to depend on you.
I'm smart....but you want to make decisions for me.
I'm girly...but you hate that I cry.
I have a big personality...but you wish I would just sit down somewhere.
I have my own money...but you hate that you can't buy me anything that I can't buy for myself.
I love sports...but you hate that I always want to watch or go to the game.
I'm fly...but you hate that I shop so much.
I'm fancy...but you hate that I won't eat a hot dog from the corner.
Suddenly it's all too much. You look down at your rib and realize that THIS is exactly what you asked for and you can't handle it. To complicate matters more, when you met me I had a man. You pushed and pushed to impress me. You just wanted one drink or one afternoon lunch. You wanted me and you wouldn't stop until I fell madly in love with you. Back then, you knew it was your swag and your masculine bravado that got me. You made the hair stand up on the back of my man's neck and you knew it. But now, your manhood is shaken and you no longer think that you are special. You don't believe that your swagger was my cryptonite. Now you just think I'm not trustworthy and any old dude can come scoop me. And so, you want to keep me locked in a box on a shelf.
You can no longer enjoy the thing that you thought would make you the happiest in the world because you are worried that you can't keep it forever. Relax, you asked for me didn't ya?