I’m also now mentioning things that many men worry about, so please help!
Ladies, your appearance is a big factor in what a man perceives as a healthy partner. If you are too skinny, or to round, it’s time to address this. Either see a nutritionist to work out a proper diet, or hit that gym equipment to say goodbye to the KitKat and Nick-Naks you’ve loved a bit too much.
Remember, men are visual creatures. Just! Like! You! First impressions matter. If you look unhealthy, the man of your dreams will find someone else to look at. We can coddle each other as much as we like, at some point though, we must face reality. Love is born in knowing a person, and knowing a person, starts with seeing them.
The hunting in packs:
Don’t try to find Mister Right in a pub, that’s where Mister Right-Now hangs out. Mister Right on the other hand, you’ll find him busy with something constructive, or relaxing with a friend or two. Mister Right does not hunt in packs, neither should you! Mister Right, respects the boundaries of ladies night. If you hunt in a pack, he will leave you alone. To him, it looks like ladies night.
Am I ready to share my home and sacred space 24/7/365?
The simple answer is: I … Don’t … Know.
Allow me to explain:
When I get home from work, I park my car in the garage, get out and close the garage. By the time I’m done, my cat is around my feet begging for attention. I ignore him, because I’m checking the post box.
He starts mewing as I unlock the gate, turn and lock it again after entering. Then I get to the security gate on my front door. I unlock it and the door, then scratch his head before opening the door. He’s happy to see me, and he likes the fact that I’m home.
He runs inside before I do, impatient for me to put my stuff down and pick him up. I do that, scratch his head again as I smile and put him down. Knowing he’s going to be around my feet, I walk over to the fridge, open the door and get the milk. After twisting off the cap, I drink without worry, directly from the bottle. Then I fill his little bowl from it, scratch his head again and let him get on with the job of drinking his portion.
Then I pick a pipe from my meager collection, after returning the now capped milk to the fridge, and fill the pipe with the cherry tobacco I like so much. I light it just inside the front door, puffing carefully to get a proper ember going, then I tap it down and take that glorious step on to my porch, looking directly at the Paarl Mountain range. My cat joins me there, sitting on the steps doing what cats do, while I pace around contemplating life, the universe and everything, calmly puffing on my pipe. Nobody moaning at me!
In that instant, a single word is all I need to describe what I have: “Peace!”
When I think about a woman in that picture, I have almost no ability to see her doing anything other than immediately accosting me for being late, not using a glass, or not lighting my pipe outside. Nor do I see her keeping her berating gob shut for the few minutes I need to realize that I’m home, and can leave the office day behind. I don’t see her being anything other than derogatory about any number of things she imagines I’ve done wrong in the last 24 hours, nor do I see her taking any time to use her brain and show a bit of kindness, by pouring me a bloody glass of milk. I don’t see her helping me with the shopping I just did, or even having the simple decency to open the damn door.
I mean, it’s not as if my car runs in silent mode. You can hear it when I pull in.
So … No, I really don’t think I’m ready, and the sad thing is, I no longer care. At least I still care that I don’t care, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll hold on to that either.
The reality is, I’ve seemingly lost the ability to think of a woman, as anything other than a money hungry leech, with no purpose other than to take what she can and bail at the first sign of trouble.
The shockingly sad thing though, is that the last decade has done nothing other than prove that perception, especially now that I know I’m not the only man with this problem.