My friend and I have fiercely been mapping out a game plan of how she can seduce and keep the man of her dreams. Why she has any male problems at all is a mystery to me; she's stunning, fit, thin, and intelligent and is so sweet but that goodness has so far only attracted the senseless and the steroid-induced.
The day we discussed her dating dilemmas was the day I overheard a separate set of females also plotting to win over the same man. The diva in me was about to tell these sisters to step aside, my friend after all was the only person good enough to be with this man. These women however, were all singing from the same hymn book and the lyrics sounded something like Irene Cara’s ‘holding out for a hero.’
The sisters after unreturned calls, agonizing nights waiting by the phone, drunken and dateless dusks out had decided to wear the pants - they weren’t waiting for men to take over they were doing it for themselves.
Lucky or unlucky men? I can't decide.
I pondered on whether it would be easier if we just did the asking but I didn’t like the ramifications of doing that. The end of men asking us out would shred chivalry to bits.
No more proposals, no more romance but on the plus side, since most women of our time are such control freaks it would also mean the end of our man-made insanity. If we no longer had to fret about who was asking who, what it meant if he did or didn’t text, what it meant if he took us to McDonald’s over Aria (apart from the calorie counting), what on earth would we women do with all of our time?
Men would be emasculated and lazy because of it and we’d never know if the person we were with was with us for us or just for convenience. In my idealistic mind, it’s much more interesting seeing the man work for your love, vying for your attention and pleased in his conquest.
On the flip side, with the increase in demand for men and lack of supply, I wholeheartedly accept why women would rather chase and lose than never run the race and feel the rush that comes with winning.
I look at love like a crystal meth addict. It eats away at your brain, your looks fade with more of its use and it's damn costly to your lifestyle but the thrill is too intense a rush, the joy too deep, the addiction too unbearable that stopping it is deadly painful.
Sign me up we all used to say to the torture until these women took control but it seems while we're all addicted to the high, we're all buying from the same dealer and while he’ll flirt with many, he’ll only truly want to be with one. Game on? You betchya!
One of the women I know has to compete with five other women for one man's attention. She’s doing an ok job of sustaining his interest but it pains me to see the daily mental struggle involved with chasing. It means daily affirmations that you are good enough, it means allowing jealousy to overcome you (and that’s ugly), wondering if he is responsive out of courtesy, kindness or adoration. It's true what they say, it's rough out there in the dating world.
She doesn’t just have women of the same age, good looks and intelligence to compete with – she also has the gay community questioning his sexuality and also competing for his heart.
Then there are all of these ridiculous rules to follow. Like the stupid, don't call after the first date for three days? Don't kiss on the first date, don't be the one to text first... The list goes on and the migraine lingers.
I’m not testifying to the Gospel according to “Dating 101” but as painful as the wait can be, distance gives clarity, courtship gives you something to look forward to and that call after a little bit of a waiting period is the crystal meth fix I was talking about; addictive, amazing and mind-altering. Amorousness follows. Neurosis ensues. Love grows. Hallelujah and amen to that!
I'm from the school of thought that if you like someone you should do something about it. Whatever is within your comfort zone is as far as you should go. Be noticed but don’t compromise your morality and be kind to yourself if the object of your affection, objects to your advances. Play by the rules, or step dangerously outside of the lines, whatever you choose, know that finding love is worth the struggle. Here’s hoping my friend wins her man and that everyone feels free enough to follow and find love.
Heartbreak can be devastating. Picking yourself up to search for love again can be the mightiest struggle you’ll have to endure but it’s worth the search, no matter how rough you might have to play.
In words better than I could articulate, “it’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.”
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