Ms. Single Mama wrote a post last week that really struck a chord with me and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
So if something feels very wrong about a man – get the hell away – but if something is “missing” ask yourself what it is? For me it was the fact that he picked up the phone every single time I called. He didn’t blow me off or cancel plans. And he gave me genuine compliments and spoke of the future, often (and still does). The men in my past have always been emotionally unavailable or physically unavailable – giving me the cold shoulder, playing phone tag or leading me on only to drop me without a thought or care months or years later.
So what was I missing in Mr. Man? The bad boy. “Fear,” says my therapist, “actually triggers arousal in our bodies. So when the men are mean to their women they immediately want to fix it, their bodies want to make it right.” Yep, you heard that right. Bad boys actually turn women on.
In my case, I have always dated very forward, aggressive men who have no problem telling me what they want, when and how and what exactly they like about me, my body, etc. I find that appealing. But they were mean or jealous and, like Ms. Single Mama, I tried to fix that by fixing myself or making myself into something they wanted. Anyway, it turns out that the flip side is that these “bad boys” are also players because, ultimately, every one of them has cheated. Whereas when I’ve dated nice, “safe” guys, they haven’t cheated but neither have they been assertive enough to fulfill me. There isn’t that same exciting rush as with a “bad boy.” Ms. Single Mama’s therapist told her that she needed to reframe the idea that something was missing and look at all the things she was getting. Like, say, respect. And compassion.
“You may even be bored with him,” she went on. At this point my head is shaking in agreement, stunned at her ability to read me like a book.
“I’m not all giddy, crazy, head in the clouds in love with him like I normally am with men. Instead we’re just slowly developing this deep friendship and I feel very calm.”
“That’s okay. It’s normal and very adult. You just need to re-learn some things, re-learn how you see things and feel things, that’s all. We can fix this kiddo!”
When I was with Chapin, he told me every single day how beautiful he thought I was, how much I turned him on, how hot I looked in such and such outfit (but go take it off – don’t want any men to see you in that), but I allowed the rush of “romantic” words to blind me into ignoring the clashes of culture, education and, ultimately, morals between us. Looking back it was all right there. My therapist says he constantly showed me/told me who he really was but I just didn’t want to see it because that “bad boy” kept stringing me along.
This weekend, after Chapin dropped off Pumpkinhead in the main house, he stopped at my door to pick up some mail. I bent over to pick something up and he started talking about how hot I looked and how much he wanted me, etc.
Besides feeling nothing but irritation (and, geez, I was wearing sweats and hadn’t showered in two days), I also thought about my sweet Blue Eyes who — when I was crying hard one night a few months back and needed some comfort — took me riding on the back of his motorcycle for a moonlit picnic on the beach and just let me cry. There were no pretty words, no trying to fix things. He knew just what I needed and he gave it to me. Now that is more of a turn-on than any “bad boy” could ever be.