Today I sit positioned in my spot on the couch I’ve now claimed as “home” for the last four days. I go through intermittent guilt for doing nothing but reading, and napping, and snacking, all day. Every day. For four days. Straight.
I should really be doing something productive with my life, I tell myself as I reach up off the couch for another round of Treat Cake, a deliciously large sized brownie thing my German friend has introduced me to today. Meh, that definitely counts as a sit up, I think I’m good. I commend myself for still “getting it in” where I can. That’s how you stay fit, I hear.
Just kidding. I know I can’t start watching what I eat to keep this physique. I lunge for another round of cake, and congratulate myself for getting not just abs, but also glutes, in today. I am killing it.
I reach for my phone to catch up on messages, and today’s catching up brings you this blog post: The women who deserve more.
I am probably obnoxiously open about the fact I have way too many good people in my life, that I don’t deserve, that I’m not sure why they stay, and that I have NO idea how on Gods green earth I have been surrounded by the people I do. Majority of my friends are women, and all of them I would classify as admirable. Especially to me. Maybe that’s why I pick them as friends and clamor on to them. I admire them. I want to be, just. like. them.
These are strong women. These are the the women who pay their own bills. The women who have been through divorce after abuse, infidelity, complete collapse of finances after said divorce, and still push through this amazingly beautiful, albeit difficult, world with grace. With love. With humor. And wit. And kindness. And intelligence. And generosity.
These women are the single moms. The ones who are Mom. AND Dad. Because the Dad well, he doesn’t show up, and nothing less than 100% is good enough for their little girl. So they work two jobs. They go to school in the evenings. They run from kid drop off to work a full days work to run home and get their child and give them a full home cooked meal and still make enough time to play with them. To help them learn to write. To read them a bed time story and never miss tucking them in. And making sure not for one second that child isn’t as fully loved as they would be if Daddy was in the picture. And they do it well. Really, really well.
But at some point or another, this question comes up (I am guilty of this, too). After a failed date, a caught liar, a relapse, a questionable cancellation, a broken promise, a shady response or worse, a lack of response, it comes.
Where are all the good men?
And sometimes the follow up that breaks me to pieces…
What is wrong with me?
And I want to shake them. I want to scream and throw shit and beat the men that do this. Time and time and time again.
How on earth can one man make this beautiful, smart, hardworking, loving, kind, sweet, generous, devoted, loyal, funny woman question herself?!
What is the pheromone they’re putting out that can change what should be blatantly obvious to these gems? That they are beautiful. They are valuable. They are deserving of the right love. So I write this tonight for you, you beautiful pieces of gold.
ITS NOT YOU, ITS THEM.
One mans, or tens, or 100’s deciding they don’t want you, isn’t you.
You may not have wanted him anyway, after you find out he snores like a wildebeest or perhaps hasn’t filed his taxes since the turn of the century.
He may be emotionally unavailable, chances increasing with his choice of silence instead of having a decent fucking conversation with you about feelings and what he did and didn’t want (looking at you, Brian).
He could be the guy that hasn’t learned anger management well and goes home after a hard day at work and microwaves a hamster.
He could be the guy that really really really loves you. And everyone else in his inbox.
He could be the Hoarder and didn’t want to let you into his home because he wasn’t willing to relocate his 52 cats (and 17 dead ones) or his mason jar full of toe nail clippings he’s collected since 5th year of college, because he definitely took the victory lap.
Perhaps he didn’t want to start the introductory to his kids because with that comes the baby mama and she would tell you all the real things he was going to wait to let you find out until after you contractually swore in front of government you were stuck together.
My point is, you don’t know. And more, it doesn’t matter.
Because none of those guys, are your guys.
You know why there is so many shitty men out there? Because we’ve allowed it. Because we allow the bullshit excuses. Because we overlook that red flag we should’ve seen because we want to see the best in them. We forgive that inappropriate message on a technicality because we hadn’t defined what we were. Because we bend these things because.. because WHY THOUGH!?!?
Because it’s shit or nothing?! Ladies! Let’s all choose nothing then!!! Let them work on raising the fucking bar and they can try again after they’ve worked harder. Maybe they need to stretch and learn a few more things. Maybe because they’re so used to getting these amazing, beautiful, intelligent, did I say amazing? Women without having to do a fucking thing, that they expect it of the next.
So let’s stop that right now.
Stop questioning your worth. No man, ON EARTH, gets to decide that. No person should have so much power in your life to make you doubt your radiance for one god damn minute. So stop it. Stop it right fucking now.
You know what you can do instead of dating a man that doesn’t appreciate you?
Anything you fucking want.
I mean it. Anything.
Wanna take a weekend trip? Do it. Get topless in a hot tub and drink some champs? Yep. Hang out with your friends drinking way too much wine and then trying to crawl through a corn maze until you realize there’s no way your drunk ass is getting out and the ticket-giver has to come escort you out as you tumble over mud and random corn? Yep! (Bring good boots though).
Use this time for you. I beg of you. Use it to look in the mirror and admire the person in front of you. The one that’s made it through that split. That heartbreak that tore you to the core. That job loss. The house loss. Your kids struggles. The list of allllllll the things you thought you’d never get through. But LOOK AT YOURSELF! You did! And you’re stronger. And still fucking beautiful, damnit.
So go embrace that. Go walk around with your head high (but always be kind), and love the shit out of you. Spend that time you’d spend questioning your worth doing something you love. Get the pedicure. Read the book. Call your friend that makes you feel better always. It’s much better use of your time, I promise you.
And when those men can finally learn to jump that bar up to you, then you can allow them a chance to be with you. But until then, we sit higher.