This meme represents a deal-breaker for me, FYI.
M: Today’s Deb-Blog Has Been Brought to You by the Letter D for Dudes and the Letter M for Men: An Homage
(This is a PG post but I am discussing my delight for men with my trademark snark.)
Golly, I love men. Truly. I love their company, their masculinity, their strength, their form, their manly hands, how they look, move and the way some smell. But beyond objectification, I like how they think and how they complement my femininity. I’m feminine. I enjoy being a girl!
Look, I know it isn’t politically correct or trendy to talk about gender differences. I know first hand how a lot of those differences have kept women from advancing and everyone from living their genuine truth. And that sucks. I also get there’s vast fluidity to the gender binary. I just heard a fascinating story on NPR’s “This American Life” about a trans man who, upon taking testosterone, said he instantly had a different, more aggressive reaction to women and couldn’t have his once “good cry” anymore, so I believe there is a biology that influences behavior. But this is a light blog, folks, come on! I’m just expressing and acknowledging my experience with sweeping generalities and pausing to appreciate men. So imagine Sam from “Sex In the City” is writing this. (“Sam” is one of my nicknames in certain circles. Those who truly know me know there’s a little bit of Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Sam in me.) Sam is independent and not quick to emotionally attach to the men she dates. That part’s me. When Sam was sick, she didn’t have anyone to help her. That part’s me. But when her draperies fell off her bedroom window when she was sick, she helplessly crumbled because she didn’t know how to fix them. Not me. I can hang my own curtains and manage my own plumbing. But I digress. Or do I?
Straight, bi, pans, gay, friends and lovers, the men in my life are open, genuine and welcoming. Men give me just what I need when I know what I need; advice, solutions, company, you name it. Men can be tender, emotional and vulnerable, too, but even then they know what they need. In fact, it’s beautiful when a man feels safe to be emotionally intimate.
And a man who is both strong and kind is terribly rare but most attractive, like my dad. Dad set a high bar for the qualities I require in a relationship; fearless but not aggressive, confident but not egotistical, kind but not passionately grandiose, brilliant, liberal, generous and capable.
I’ve never been married. As much as I adore men, I never could quite figure out what to do with one in captivity. So I’m a satisfied single, currently focused on my writing and public speaking, trying to establish a stable income again and my quest of self-discovery. I’ve always been the type to spend time alone between serious relationships, anyway, to “consciously uncouple” in Gwyneth Paltrow‘s words, but in a useful context. I don’t trust someone who moves from one serious relationship to another with barely a breath in between. I learned that lesson with one of those types and once was enough. I adore being in the company of that one, special man but any man worth my time deserves more of me than I can give right now. Besides the time and financial restrictions of coming out of my stay-at-home daughter role, I am recovering from the last relationship and have some baggage to sort.
Now back to objectification. Physical attraction is whole other matter. Attraction is organic. For me, if it’s not there pretty much immediately, it’s never going to be. Now most of my close friends know I am a nose woman. You read right. We’re out there. It is the first characteristic I notice; not the only one but it’s psychologically inexplicable and a total deal breaker. I have made the mistake of compromising on this one more than once, which I regret. Hey, some like blondes, some brunettes, big booties, etc. For me, it’s the nose that, of course, fits the face, too. And it’s not just the nose. And after a long, exhaustive, unscientific study, I can state there is no correlation between the nose, feet, hands or any feature with any other part of the anatomy (and some of those are deal breakers, too). You’re just going to have to trust me on that or do your own research. (The study isn’t complete yet.)
If the physical attraction is strong, I have found three other characteristics are telling – and all three – if he’s got compatibility potential; how he drives and his relationship with food and with his vehicle. I’m not sharing how those translate because I’d be giving away too much to someone who may enter my life in the future and do some surreptitious research on my blog someday.
It’s also a deal breaker if a man spends money he doesn’t have or shouldn’t proportion towards me. Of course, how he spends accordingly matters but money can’t buy me love, right Beatles? Plus, what would I value that anyone bought me who doesn’t know me? But what a turn on to get just what my heart desires or what I didn’t know I wanted.
Actions speak louder than words, too. But be a man of your word. I am torn by two perfect songs for this point, I have decided to share both:
I’m not a commodity, either. This may be a big factor why I have never been married because just hearing someone say I’m a good catch implies marketing of oneself to the highest bidder, which creeps me out. Perhaps there is a value component to all relationships but not of money, things or superficial worth.
So to those men who have touched my life, thank you. I wish all those past, present and future happy lives.