Sunday, August 4, 2013

If He Wants to Date You, He Will



Having spent time in the south and on the other side of the Mississippi, I have had the opportunity to assess dating etiquette from both perspectives.  Frighteningly enough, manners seem to have eroded on both shores.

As a female, I am of course a proponent of equal rights and an even playing field.  But there is still something to be said for letting a man be a man.  And as men, they are intrinsically wired to be the pursuer; to chase, to conquer.  When females change the game, and become the aggressors, the boundaries become blurred. I don't believe for one moment that feminism requires I take on all aspects of being male and female, especially when it comes to dating.

What happened to the man asking the women out on a date?  Or for her number? Or being the one to initiate a call or text? Or make the first move? I actually enjoy being pursued, the door opened, my chair being pulled out for me.  Where did it all go wrong?

As I've trespassed the dating scene since my divorce, I have noticed a growing crop of women who are obsessive, compulsive, out of touch with reality, and basically stage 5 cling ons.  They not only pursue with a vengeance, they refuse to abandon the chase even when rejected.  Being raised in the south, this is a foreign idea to me.  The basic DNA of a man is to be the hunter, and we risk emasculation by eliminating that ability.  I grew up with a father who leaves notes for my mother, buys flowers weekly, and wouldn't dream of her opening her own car door.  She is his queen and he her king.  But I feel as if he is a dying breed, nearly extinct, and firmly on the endangered species list.

I find myself surrounded by men who are as confused by their role as I am.  When it comes to dating, they are lazy, lethargic, and possess borderline communication skills, as if they don't know if they should be the pursuer or the pursued. We're told to 'play it cool' and not be 'too available' as if admitting to finding some modicum of interest in someone is fatal.  What's the harm in admitting to actually wanting to spend an evening with someone?  Are we doomed to a lifetime of games, misdirection, and outright lies?

No matter the pressure to conform, I refuse.  As my mother once said, "If he wants to date you, he will."

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