Joe, I might add to this that there is a massive, largely unfounded (at least for top quality women, and for me that likely means something other than it does to you) that we need to have flowers, jewelry, expensive this that and the other.
In other words, to get said sex, our favors must be bought.
Not only is this a very tired paradigm, is it, for those with real character, patently untrue. My last BF (who himself was, unfortunately, a tired paradigm) never got the message that I could have given less of a flying SHIT about gifts. What mattered to me was quality time. Not only was he unwilling to give it, he used that as the perfect excuse to keep saying that we never built a relationship. No fucking SHIT Sherlock. I don’t need, and I think really top notch people agree, to be laden with jewelry (which I don’t wear) with gifts (that I end up giving to someone else) chocolates (which set up pup tents on my hips) or flowers (which while nice, wilt after a few days). The ONLY thing of value said male has to offer, and I am not referring to the fucking Almighty penis or his ability to maintain a four hour erection, is his character. That of course is multifaceted, but for the sake of brevity here, the only thing that he has that will out last his Pencil of Love.
I offer the right guy the ability to discuss tent design, ailerons, parachute designs, where to go in the world for the best epic adventures, fitness and nutrition tips, the ability to discuss Eighties music or Classical Music or classic literature or the Jack Reacher series, I can carry the wood, schlep water, help pull someone over a cliff, keep my head in very dangerous situations, and I have got his fucking BACK. I am a man’s girl, a girl’s girl, a damned good friend and a very loyal lover. I couldn’t give a flying shit about a fancy car, or a big house, as I have my own money, my own property, my own business, and a slew of my own accomplishments. I’m tender and creative and smart and funny as shit, and I am not looking for someone to carry my luggage. Kindly, that’s how I keep in shape. You want to open the door, I will love you for your manners. You want to order for me at dinner, I will swoon for your sophistication. You want to engage a full partner who can do guy shit and girl shit and talk about both with authority, I’m your partner. But to your point, Joe, if guys treat me like I need to be coddled, or I need to have gifts for them to get laid, they are missing the point about quality. I remember every single thing my ex ever picked up and inspected in my house. That’s just one example of how carefully I attended to who he was and what interested him. I made him a study because I wanted to understand the one single thing he did not possess : character. Because he did not respond to my request for quality time, it took me a full decade to find out what I would have discovered early on (and he knew it) that he was a very attractive but empty vessel.
That’s why he’s the ex. Going forward as I swim my way through the unsolicited sea of penis shots and dangling testicles (you can’t make this shit up) that mindless, foolish men think are what I am after at this stage, increasingly I am more intrigued by large animals than I am by pussy-hungry, thoughtless men who must think I’m stupid.
Bad move, dudes.
Quality women- quality people- value characer, competence, respect, regard, and the hard damned work that goes into exploring another human being with all the shit shows we all carry, even young. Those shit shows are with us for life in one form or another. Expecting anyone to be free of them is ridiculous. But being willing to understand how we can support, encourage, develop each other over time to better manage them, that’s partnership. And if we’re damned lucky, love.
Smart, brave article, and thanks. None of this is easy. The older I get, though, the easier it is to find the funny, move on and continue to enjoy my own company.