I'd Date Me
I am intelligent, independent, semi-famous, well-read, responsible, and I have a good sense of humor. I can talk about anything, and I can also talk about nothing and make it sound like something. And as you can glean from the previous statements, I do not have a problem with self-confidence.
If I were a guy, women would be launching themselves at me in great numbers. They would be camping out on my doorstep, begging me to father their children. However, I am a girl, and the exact same qualities that would make me an attractive man cause guys to run screaming in the opposite direction.
Apparently there is something about me that causes their testosterone secretions to dry up and their facial hair, among other body parts, to retract or fall off. When I was younger I thought it was because of my looks. I went through agonies of self-loathing. I couldn’t look at mirrors: I was too fat, too ugly, too repulsive. Cosmetic surgery would not begin to address my woes-I wanted my brain transplanted to another body, preferably Michelle Pfeiffer’s or Kim Basinger’s.
As I grew older I realized that not only did the problem lie elsewhere, but it wasn’t even my problem.There are women out there with more unprepossessing features, more prodigious butts, and bigger thighs than I do, and they get guys. I would be the last person on earth to mock the members of my gender-well, maybe not the last-but some of those women are ugly. They have no trouble finding boyfriends because they know how to treat guys. They make men feel like men.
I make the average man feel like a worm. I make him feel like an inadequate mass of protoplasm that I’m going to slice up and use as compost.
The problem is not that I’m intelligent, independent, semi-famous, well-read, funny and confident. The problem is that I’m more intelligent, independent, semi-famous, etcetera than the average guy.(oo na feeling na) Let’s not pull our punches here-than most guys.
Yes, the women’s liberation movement has helped produce more enlightened men. Yes, men are becoming more attuned to their feminine side and dealing with their true feelings. But the fact remains that guys still want to rule. It’s the way they were made and the way they were brought up, and if you don’t cooperate, you’re an emasculating bitch. Men want to feel that they’re running the show, and the funny thing is, they don’t have to actually run the show, they just have to feel like they are.
It’s really quite touching. Men are more fragile than they’re allowed to show. Aww, wook at the poor wittle boys. If I weren’t destined to dominate the universe, I’m sure I would be more sympathetic.
Oh, and I acknowledge that there are guys who reject me purely on the basis-of looks. They have ceased to bother me. I understand their need for beauty, as I myself tend to lose IQ points in the presence of gorgeousness. Besides, we’re talking about the kind of guys who would have fulfilling relationships with inflatable dolls. When I see these guys preening at the side of their starlet-slash-model trophy girlfriends, I know there is symmetry in the universe, and I hope they have a fun time memorizing the alphabet together. (Hint: C comes after B.)
The simple fact of the matter is that men have an easier time finding women than women have finding men. Exhibit A: Woody Allen. A brilliant filmmaker who happens to be a funny-looking, deeply neurotic man. Woody Allen has long been considered a sexy man. I know women who would jump his bones if they had a chance, and dammit, Woody, if you wanted an Asian woman, why didn’t you just come here?
If you think I’m being lookist, try Exhibit B: Salman Rushdie. For many years he’s had a fatwa on his head and Muslim extremists are out to kill him, but while moving from one safehouse to the next, evading potential assa
ssins and living constantly under guard, Salman Rushdie has managed to find a wife.
You may argue that living in the shadow of death (Aren’t we all?) is an aphrodisiac, so I submit Exhibit C: Stephen Hawking. The genius physicist, today’s Isaac Newton, the author of the bestselling A Brief History of Time, Hawking is wheelchair-bound, shrivelled, and requires a synthesizer in order to speak. And yet this man left his wife and ran off with his nurse, who by the way was the wife of the man who designed his synthesizer.
Okay, an extraordinary brain is deeply attractive, and don’t forget that many women are suckers for men who need looking after (and they all do), but honestly, do you think that if Stephen Hawking were a girl… The answer is no, not because she’s paralyzed, but because her brain is too big.
Jessica Zafra (1998). Confessions of a b*llbreaker. Pasig City: Anvil Publishing, Inc.
Love,
Cherry
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