The Art of Femininity
A million little changes to make you a better woman for the insecure man
Ladies.
Today I’m going to talk to you not from the point of view of Cindy, Melissa, Jennifer, etc. Today I’m going to talk to you directly from my point of view. Let me know if you can relate.
First off, I’d like to start out by saying I love when a man decides to give me unsolicited advice, usually about what I’m doing wrong as a woman. When a man decides to take a sliver of what he knows, or thinks he knows, about me directly or about women as a whole, and then proceeds to give me a life lesson from his holier-than-thou prospective from way atop his ivory tower. Because just being in the possession of a penis, no matter how small, makes him an expert on just about everything.
“…I love when a man decides to give me unsolicited advice, usually about what I’m doing wrong as a woman.”
So I’m sitting at the bar with my girlfriend, just shooting the shit one night. There’s not too many people in the place. This guy I know casually from work is hanging around, inserting himself into our conversation from time to time. Somehow we collectively get on the subject of dating and it gets overheard that, in a nutshell, after stepping away for a long period of time, I’m ready to start dating again.
Let me be clear:
I’m ready to start going out to dinner, meeting for cocktails, wearing heels with expensive clothes I have hanging in plastic garment bags in the back of my closet. I’m ready to meet new and exciting people who also have their own rich and fulfilling lives, who want to travel and indulge in the finer things that being in your 30’s and 40’s with a career can afford you. I’d like to meet one, or four, decent looking men I might not mind seeing naked who stimulate me mentally, can carry a conversation, and who don’t look at me every time the bill comes. I’m ready to start fucking, the kind of new, fun, fuck me on a balcony dick that doesn’t come with responsibility or drama or stress. Take from this whatever you want, but this is the kind of shit I mean when I say I’m ready to start dating again.
“I’m ready to start fucking…fuck me on a balcony dick that doesn’t come with responsibility or drama or stress.”
What I DON’T MEAN when I say I’m ready to start dating:
I don’t mean I’m ready to fuck every dude who looks my way. I’m not interested in meeting for drinks at one of the many establishments I bartend at so we can get a hook-up on happy hour. I don’t want to text endlessly because you have nothing else to do. I don’t want to hear about how some bitch broke your heart, why you can’t keep a fucking job, or why you need to continue living with your parents while you rage all weekend in some dude’s garage, putting baby laxatives up your nose and sending out mass Hey, what’s up texts after 10pm. I don’t want to kick it, hang out, or talk. Any variation of the latter, and I’m out. Done. Not interested.
A few tequila shots, some laughs, and our light-hearted conversation comes to an, as does the evening. We all make our way to the door. I’m damn near out when the bartender flags me down and waves me back over, in a very hush hush manner, as if he’s going to tell me a secret. I approach and am met with this: If I really want to start dating again, I am going to have to get in touch with my femininity a little and drop the shit. I’m a cute girl, big boobs, fat ass, and men are visual so I’m lucky in that department, but I need to tone it down and step back. Smile and say thank you, touch their arm flirtily, let them chase me. Combative may be fun in the bedroom but no one wants a bitch like that all the time. End quote.
“…strong women are a threat to every man who could never measure up.”
I’m embarrassed to admit that my headspace was turned off because I’d gotten a little loosey goosey on the shots. I was taken aback, somewhat surprised at his boldness but not surprised by the content as I’ve heard this interpretation of myself through many other men’s eyes before, lesser men who wanted to quiet me down, tame me, make me submissive because their own masculine energy was lacking, most usually the bulge in their pants was as well. Because let’s face it: strong women are a threat to every man who could never measure up. I once asked a guy if he was afraid I’d steal his girl, then I winked at her and smiled. Because I fucking meant it.
If a man ever tells you how you need to behave as a woman to “get” a man, you need to immediately look at the source. Is he the man he’s referring to? Is it him who actually would like to “get” you? What does he benefit from giving you his opinion of how you appear and how you should alter this appearance? Lastly, and most importantly, ask yourself if this man doesn’t just want to dumb you down because he can’t raise himself up to your level.
“I’ll happily stay single til the day I die before I change myself to make a man feel more secure about himself.”
I can assume there might be a couple guys I used to fuck reading this, or ones who wanted to fuck me at some point, nodding their heads in aggreeance, snickering because of how true it rings. Well congratulations because you’ve just identified yourself as another beta male who has to tear women down to build yourself up. You don’t want an equal; you want someone who complements you, like a Rolex on your wrist. Look nice, smell nice, play well with others, but demand nothing, say nothing, and certainly don’t have a fucking opinion, right? Well sir, I’ll happily stay single til the day I die before I change myself to make a man feel more secure about himself. And if that isn’t the art of femininity, I don’t know what the fuck is.