Squandering Gifts

I’m not pretty. Well, not in the Aishwarya Rai or Vanessa Marcil kind of  'pretty' that I’d prefer, but more of the da Vinci 'Virgin of the Rocks' classically structured face. In what feels like a past life, I was, for a time an artist’s muse. There is 'art' out there in the world of me; paintings of me, photographs of me. I once had an art critic say of my beauty that “I was as timeless as art itself”. Personally, I felt that was kinder than I deserved; but beauty is, I suppose, in the eye of the beholder.

And I beheld that beauty…a few years of art history appreciation had me realize that every culture has its own kind standard and that time brings its own standard to the fore. I’ve recently read some of Shmuley Boteach’s books—(I’m just about ready to start my fourth); he frequently talks about a lack of sensuality in today’s sexuality.

One hundred years ago women who were robust and fleshy were the most desirous—it was the sensual experience of the softness and suppleness of her body that made her opposed to a man’s rugged muscularity and hardness. It was the seduction of the differences to the differences that made a woman alluring. Even today, in parts of North Africa, a heavy woman is the social standard for having one hot babe on your arm.

I had an email today from a girlfriend in Spain. She’s by any standard a Slovak beauty. She told me she had gotten heavy (me too) and that she realized that everywhere she had lived in the U.S. and Europe when she was unhappy, she gained weight. When she was happy again, she lost it. I’ve thought about that today and she’s right, I’ve had the same experience.

A year ago I was at the gym twice a day, some cardio and weights in the morning, back for a zumba dance class at night. For all of the years that I took dance classes—from modern to belly dancing, I didn’t know how much I would love Latin rhythms—and I do. I don’t speak a word of Spanish, and wish I could sing along…but I can’t. The closest I’ve come is that I did have an invitation today from her to come spend some time with her in Spain…she’ll be happy to read that I’m thinking about it…

I went to the gym and ran into one of my old zumba classmates. One of them said to me “since that guy, you haven’t been the same—when are you coming back?” She was right, too. In the last year, I’ve lost a part of my spirit. I thought about my friend in Spain and how right now she’s in a relationship with a great guy and it’s not enough. She said it wasn’t about him, but confusion within herself; that he’s an amazing guy and would be sad to leave him but she doesn’t really feel fulfilled since leaving the U.S. a couple of years ago. She’s missing the comfort of closeness of friends or family even though he’s perfectly compatible and wonderful to her.

That led me to thinking about 'that guy' and gifts. It is a gift for someone to offer you friendship. The older you get, the less likely it is you make friends; acquaintances, yes. Maybe you share one particular interest—or you work with someone that you spend some time with outside of the office, but someone you can share the intimacies of your life with, a real friend, someone that you bond with is a completely different story.

Do they squander a gift when someone chooses not want you as a friend? I feel that it is so. It’s interesting to me because at the same time I offered ‘that guy’ friendship and he turn away from it, he claimed that he was lonely. Depression: internalized anger masquerading as loneliness. I always say that people come into your life for a reason. Sometimes the reason is for you; sometimes the reason is for them. People wonder what the meaning of life is…experience. Life is about experience. God places you on a path where doors open and doors close. One path might lead to happiness, one to change, another to pain. One leads you closer to you goals, one takes you further.

I’m not pretty, but I had always had a banging body—(God portions his gifts). From the time I was about 12, I was always the hottest chick in class. It’s easy for me to be sexy. It’s easy for me to manipulate with my sexuality. I have a black belt in flirting; I’ve learned to temper it. Today, I’m torn between having a great body or not. Having a great body gets you sex; it doesn’t get you loved. It’s not even a compliment when a guy tells me how hot I am—it means absolutely nothing—like someone telling me that my eyes are green. BUT when I think about the fact that I’ve gained weight as a result of unhappiness, I have to admit, that I’ve squandered a gift. The women that I know that are unhappy in relationships are all overweight—every single one of them found comfort in food that they weren’t finding in the arms of a man. So it’s a catch 22. If you’re overweight, you don’t attract a man, when you’re thin you attract attention but not the kind that you want; so you become heartbroken and eat only to push away the men who could potentially give you exactly what you’re looking for. There is a power in beauty if you know exactly how to use it.

After The Final Rose…

Yup, I was right. It was the blond—Emily. The reasons why are…

Pat always says that a woman’s only job is to look good, smell good, taste good, feel good and sound good. When Ed and I were together I loved when he used to say those exact things to me…

She also says that a man who loves you will cherish, protect and provide for you. Our bachelor Brad was not lacking in his verbal declarations of those very same words either.

When a man falls in love with a woman, he falls in love with her in the “spaces”. Not when he is with her, but how much he misses her when he’s not with her…how there is something missing when she’s gone.

Brad declared his love by saying that he was excited to see her; wanted to protect her; he wanted to take care of her; he wanted to be a family man and that he was “in” for whatever that meant; that he wanted to be her daughter’s father—not a step father . When Emily asked what being a father meant to him, he said to love, provide, protect, be friends with her daughter, be a disciplinarian when needed and he was willing to take the good and bad, and the bad and good. (When a man loves a woman, he loves and takes care of everything that she loves.) He asked for the chance to be the best father I can be.

He said what he loved about Emily was her “aura”. When a man falls in love, it is her essence, not anything specific about her…it is her everything. He said he was buying her an engagement ring with intent. He said he loved that she’s a lady; she’s poised; she’s private; she makes me want to be a better person. And that is her virtue; a man will always choose virtue.

She said she wasn’t ready to move to Austin. He said she wasn’t losing his love. She’s the one because he said so; his choice.

He rubs the fourth finger of her left hand; the ring finger, the finger that is directly attached to the heart, he rubs to bring warmth and blood.

That reminded me of a time when I was dating an attorney. He used to take the ring that would wear on my left hand, fourth finger and remove it just above my knuckle. Over and over he would practice taking it off and slipping a ring on to my finger. I'd let him without saying a word; I pretended not to notice. Ultimately, he didn't ask me to marry him, but he "tried me on" and I liked it...I would have said yes to him.

And there were other clues for Chantal…yin and yang behavior.

Chantal was masculine and yang in her behavior. She chased him—told him repeatedly how she felt, she made him gifts—he gave her none. A man will only love you, if you give him the space to. As a woman, you must train yourself not to step into the spaces between you. If you step into the space, he backs up; he can’t move toward you.

I learned that lesson when I met Tony Robbins. I was up on stage with a line full of people and I watched them hugging him and telling him how he had changed their lives. At best, he tolerated their behavior; no one seemed to notice. When he came over to me, I put my hand out to shake it and I introduced myself. He touched me, took a step towards, smiled and told me I had beautiful eyes. I let him, and he entered my space as a man, not a speaker. That moment was far more intimate than stroking him.

Brad’s behavior toward Chantal was different because she behaved differently. She moved into his yang space and he treated her accordingly. With Emily as she stepped out of the helicopter he protected her by saying “watch your step”. With Chantal he said he took her shark diving and told her he admired her strength, confidence and bravery—yang, masculine traits. Do you see? She behaved masculinity by professing her love FIRST, giving gifts FIRST, by slapping him when she met him, by saying to him and his family “you better pick me”. Because Chantal didn’t behave like a woman, he didn’t feel that he had to treat her like one…he said he was himself and comfortable—like two male friends. With Emily he said he is always nervous, he kisses her hands and tells her I miss you when I’m not with you.

There is that old expression that says a man is man until he meets a lady, and then he becomes a gentleman. Brad say that she’s worth it to try to change for and that I wouldn’t want her to feel anything less than loved. He asked Emily to give him the opportunity to love you for the rest of your life.

In the end Chantal said that she had found another man. She was lying. She wouldn't have cried if it were the truth. She said she felt stupid that although she thought he was "the one", he didn't even love her. The signs were everywhere that he didn't....she just didn't know how to read them.

Virtue and the Bachelor

OK, I'm making it official--and I'll post this prior to my finishing this blog entry; I'm picking that Brad will ask the blond with the little girl to be his wife--and for only one reason; her choosing virtue over her working for his affections. Virtue is a lifestyle choice.

I don't typically watch this show; I think that it's cruel to watch someone who is the object of you're hearts desire court, kiss, be potentially sexual with and be crushed with jealousy moment after moment in the show. I don't want to be that involved as part of that weekly prurience. I also don't believe that a woman should ever have to chase a man for his time, interest or affection--he should be chasing her. But I caught this show a few times this season. Our blond told the bachelor that she had only been in love once, that she found herself pregnant at the same time her fiance died in a plane crash. She's 24 and hadn't introduced any suitors to her daughter and initially wasn't sure she wanted to introduce little Ricki to Brad.

In a way, I'm sad for her. Considering that she's 24, she acts as if she's at least 34; somewhere she's lost a part of her youth to life and circumstance. And I think that when you compare her to the other girls who vied for his attention by "stealing" time with him she was different. When Brad asked her to spend the night with him her response was that she needed to be a good role model, but she would stay and TALK with him. Letting him know that no, she would not be sleeping with him. When Brad did the home visit, he said that he wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn't because her daughter was upstairs. She let him know that if they were to be married, she would always be upstairs. He respected her enough throughout the show not to take more from her than she was willing to give at any time; by the time she chose to introduce her to him, Brad perceived it as it should have been--not just a gift, but give back for all he had given to her--first. Most of all, he cupped her face when he kissed her...that gentleness of treasuring her in his hands.

Unlike the other girls, she didn't ask for more, she didn't have to. She stood still where she was in the world and let Brad chose whether or court her or not. I believe that if Brad would have chosen not to, she would have not been any worse for wear as the other women were shown cried and died over their rejection.

But truth be told, the women who were sent home, did it to themselves. They became prematurely attached and monogamous with a man prior to his willingness to commit to them. He showed them by his actions that he was willing to continue to date and be open to the possibility that another woman would win his heart.

Granted, some couldn't help it. Nature has it's way of oxytocin bonding women to men. Chemical addiction: dopamine, testosterone, oxytocin...chained and bound. But of the others, the women acted like men. The brunette who's also on tonight slapped him upon meeting her. I would have sent her home that first night. She could not have been more disrespectful to him as a man standing there with his heart open to possibility...he may find some poetic justice in her rejection tonight...then there was the beautiful one who manipulated him into being physical with him on the beach in front of the other girls...what did she really think she'd accomplish by doing that? Treating him that way was treating him like a child who was unable to decide for himself who he wanted by his side...she couldn't possibly know better than he did who was right for him...

I'll continue this tomorrow and we'll see if I was right...the heart wants what it wants...

Change

I’ve been asked the same thing twice over the last 24 hours...and I gave unsolicited advice to a third. “Could I commit to him/her?”  “Would I have long regrets about the person?" "When is it enough?”

Him: I’ve been wondering a lot about this lately because I am 39 years old, I’ve never been engaged or married and I’ve never been close. I always presumed I get married at some point, but the older I get, the more I wonder if I ever will.

I have a great girlfriend. We’ve been together for the last 3 years, and though she seems totally in love with me; I am not sure I feel the same way about her. It’s not the live happily ever after type of love; she feels more like a best friend.

I’m seriously thinking about letting her go and seeing how I feel about the whole thing when I am alone. That is my dilemma. I've had some trophy girlfriends and some others that just weren't worth the effort.

It seems unusual that I am with someone who I am so relaxed with, but I'm too relaxed. I’ve really thought about this for the last week because when she emailed me about working our working on real intimacy, and she said that it was sometime in early 2009 that I last really showed any effort or interest.

At first I thought she was kidding and then thought about it and realized she was right. She is either really patient or I am kidding the both of us.

I don't miss her when I have to work away for weeks at a time, I don't get jealous about anything she does while I am away, I don't get horny when she's around me. I'm actually kind of bored.

So I'm wondering is this what it can be like when you finally settle down and accept yourself and your partner instead of needing them to be a porn star and a saint all at once, or am I supposed to feel like this, and get none of the excitement of being with her?

The thing about her is that she has so many qualities I really value and admire in a person, and ultimately want in a partner. I've been really reluctant to end the relationship, though I think that I have wanted to for years. I don't really talk about feelings with anyone so thanks for being there.

There are few decent young women willing to stay with a man long term without being married. Women who don’t know their value will take any offer—such as living with a man without getting the commitment they really want; they consider any offer from a man good enough. They do not see their true worth.

A good woman won't wait forever. Most women want the status and security of being a wife. I don't mean that in a gold digger/money grubbing way. I mean it in the way of “if I have a car accident and need someone to hold my hand as they wheel me into surgery, I want the security of knowing that someone loves me enough to be there waiting for me when I come out”. That someone was willing to stand up before god, my friends and his family and say, yes, I promise that I'll be there through the thick and thin.

Socially, for a woman, it has always been--from the beginning of time that a married woman has that status. She has the protection, a man she loves and hopefully children--a fuller life than a woman who is betrothed and certainly not single women. The terms widow and spinster have their negativity for reasons.

I understand that for a man, the sexual attraction for any and every hot thing that walks past him is temptation—a chance to trade-up. I truly believe that is a societal problem--that hook ups, friends with benefits, social networking and easy access to porn really preclude a man from making a good decision for companionship in his life. A trade of sexual play for real intimacy leads a man to a life of single hood; one where he didn't ever get to raise his children or play with his grandchildren.

I wouldn't tell you to wait for the moon and stars--it's the addiction of the high of the excitement that you're looking for. And men who move from woman to woman when they come off of the dopamine chemical rush end up in a vicious circle of depression from being tortured by the ups and downs of acceptance and refusal.

That head over heels attraction--if you stay long enough of her eventually wears off and becomes replaced with something comfortable. Every couple goes through that. Dependable is good. Dependable means that you'll wake up tomorrow morning with your car where you left it, the sun in the sky and your kids tucked safely away under the blankets.

If she's a good woman; someone who'll be a good mother, has her ethics aligned with yours and you have enough sexual chemistry to want to touch her, marry her.

No one on their worst day is worth being married to, but on both of your best days, it makes every moment worth it. If she's valuable in your life—really valuable meaning your life is better off with her than without her AND you have the potential for commitment, compatibility and chemistry, marry her--because what you may find is that you've traded her looking for more and ended up with something less.

The questions to ask yourself are ethically are we about the same? Would I consider that I would need to call a doctor, lawyer or the cops over anything she does in her day to day life? Are we on the same page about religion and how to raise the kids? Can we negotiate time? How much we need to be together and apart? Who pays for what? How much money do we save or spend? Are we on the same page about who raises the kids and takes care of the household? Would she take care of me if I were sick? How tied is he/she to their families? Is that something I like or dislike? Would he/she be a good father/mother? Would she move cross country if my career depended on it?

Where both men and woman end up unhappy is being tied to a fantasy. I'm often surprised by when both men and women believe that in time, things will be different. I read a blog the other day where this man was openly writing to a woman he said he had waited for--he waited for life, her life, his life all the stars to be aligned and woke up on day to find out that he had waited for nothing...that it would never be between them. But I saw that from the beginning. She told him from the beginning that it would never be him; he didn't want to believe her. When a man tells you something, believe him. When a woman tells you something, believe her. Don't believe that "if I love enough, things will change". They will not--and that is your compatibility. Does your partner have the capability to commit to you?

You need to think about her as someone you would choose to go into a partnership with because ultimately that is what a marriage is...and just because you think that you know the answer she would give, there might be something that you yet don't know about her...you have to ask...and listen to her answers.

Only then will you know that either the two of you can move forward to building a life together, OR you need to be kind enough to let her go and find a man who will give her what she needs.

Power

I was on a site yesterday that I hang out on and the topic turned to religion, and the purity of gene pool to be maintained within that religion after an article that was written by a member of the Clergy was published that basically said that we should stick to our own kind.

I was of the belief that he was right. That ‘designer dogs’ didn’t live as long, weren’t as healthy overall and more prone to genetic abnormalities than the general population.

I was on for hours close to 9 hours having men try to argue points with me. Now, I am very aware that you cannot and should not even try to “out-argue” with a man; you cannot. But what I found most interesting was how quickly it degraded into childish name-calling instead of a discourse of intellect.

I was called a man, a troll, stupid, a liar, and a myth believer, that I didn’t speak a second language that I do speak….and then a woman jumped in. She called me a flea bitten twat, pseudo intellectual and a series of other names when I did nothing—absolutely nothing to insult her…and then it occurred to me…it was power.

She is a broadcaster and was threatened by what she felt was another women “in her house” who might usurp her power base there but virtue of attention. What the guys said to me didn’t bother me as much; she broke the girl code…

Dogs don’t bark at parked cars…period. if I weren’t intriguing, I would not have been able to hold the interest of men for hours and hours and hours. Whether they agreed with me or not…I was captivating. I said to her “name me another woman on this forum who can do what I did”. She continued to insult me. Eventually I placed her on my “ignore her posts” list. She doesn’t hold any value in my life.

I had a private message about her, that she had passed nudes of herself around the site and had made dates with men from that site and stood them up.

I had tapped into a different kind of power. That is a gift that I’ve also always known that I had. People tell me things…and I don’t know why. They are little gifts from them to me. Sometimes—like this, they are little bits of ammunition to be stored up and used when appropriate. Other times there is a power given to me in knowing what’s coming next. I would know who was losing their office, who was being moved, promoted, fired…I even had my closest girlfriend at work ask me to tell her truth, was I really sleeping with the boss or how else could I possibly know that much?

I don’t know why people tell me what they do, but they do. The often give me things as well. One of my first mentors would train a room full of mentees but all day long, he didn’t take his eyes off of mine—it was as if I were the only person in the room he was talking to. The other person running the mentoring would get angry at me and ask me to ask the lecturer “since I seemed to be able to get whatever I wanted out of him”. LOL. I heard that this was Bill Clinton’s magic—that in a room full of people he could make the person he was talking to feel as if they were the only person in the room.

There wasn’t anything romantic with me between me and my mentor. He just felt the connection to teach to me. It wasn’t the first time that had happened. It did when I was in college, too. One of my professors gave me keys to his classroom to use the equipment whenever I wanted to; he gave me a key to the elevator (staff only). And today, if you said my name to him, he knows exactly who I am. How many students pass through a professor’s life? How many can say that?

I’m starting to rethink spending so much time on that site. It isn’t feminine—although I did have one man who was British post to tell me he was swimming the Atlantic with a rose between his teeth to come and get me. I’m not sure that it’s good for me to be there. Although the appearance of White knights are unexpectedly wonderful-- the world is a darker place without them.

Being there fills my alpha masculine side. Left brained, intellect, thought processes, dissection, language, reason. But the pull always is to my feminine side and how much I would prefer to reside in my house of my right brain. Feeling centered…nothing more than the sensual…retraining myself to trace the steps back to my youth. I believe it is the only path that makes sense for me to find love.

I know this intellectually. I’ve studied this long enough, I’ve got it. It’s never one specific thing that a man falls in love with – it’s all of you. Most men couldn’t pick “the moment” that he fell in love with you, they certainly don’t know what it is that they love, they just know how you make them feel, he watches the people around you and that to him, you are irreplaceable … Pat says that a man falls in love with a woman’s essence, and nothing in particular—except that when a man chooses to marry, he marries virtue.

From my feminine side my answers to the questions they asked me would have been different and I know it.

If a man asks you a lot of questions, he’s intrigued… It’s how you answer him that matters – meaning not wowing him with your brilliance or competitive nature – not preaching; not teaching. It’s answering him softly, sweetly; your smile, your eyes, your smell, your taste, your laughter, your looks; he falls in love with the way you feel in his arms…

And so men test… does she tell secrets and too much information? Is she a gold digger, does she turn into a snarling bitch when I’m a half hour late, does she love kids? All of that is who you are at your core; not whether or not you have an advanced degree, not whether or not you think the latest Jim Carrey movie was wonderful. If a woman get’s pissy over what he thinks is little to nothing, he moves on – she’s either considered a crazy psycho bitch, desperate, or moved into the friend category--quickly.

In comparison to a man (unless you are choosing to be competing with him) who you are or should be is, as Dr. Phil calls it, a soft place to fall – a respite from the work-a-day world, a place of peacefulness and playfulness.

Pat says a woman’s only job in relation to her man is to look good, sound good, smell good, taste good and feel good. Sounding good isn’t argumentative, cursing, bitching, complaining, gossiping, telling secrets, training or being more evasive than necessary.

Its unending work for me and I wish it weren’t so. Beta woman have a far easier time—but my girlfriend always reminds me betas are far less interesting. It’s an unending choice to make, to flex more muscle than is necessary, to cast a line too far; and to know when reel it back in.

Assets

I was thinking about my last post and the gifts given to the women that I have the privilege to love. A woman’s warmth, brightness, softness, understanding, playfulness, giggles, and inner joy are all her gifts. They are her individual assets to draw in and keep a man.

But I thought about assets another way this morning and that is what her assets are to a man.

Pat says there are different types of relationships, but I’m only going to discuss one—the one that I believe that given a choice, I believe most women would want, the one of a covenant. Where one partner chooses to have their thoughts respected and the other their feelings cherished. One of you chooses to be the breadwinner and one the homemaker, one is yin, and the other is yang. My choice always is to be the yin feminine energy.

When a woman acquiesces herself to a man—it is because he has offered her a good deal; her life is better off with him in it than without him. I understand this fully. He offers her the status and stability of being a wife.

Let us admit that for all of the fairy tales that we thought women’s liberation might bring us, I believe as both men and women we lost far more than we gained. We lost identity—who to “be” in the world.

There is far more social status in the world for a woman to be a wife…and even more so if she has children. The status of being a wife stands shoulders above the fiancé status, which stands shoulders above being single. I suppose the only marital status that is looked down upon is a mistress who became a wife through nothing more than a chance upgrade. That woman will always viewed down upon in thought (if not actions) with vengeance for having crossed the social line of disgrace for sleeping with another woman’s husband.

Ladies, from the time they are children work to achieve societal harmony through graces and pleasantries that a woman of less repute doesn’t abide by. Pat says that the only difference between a wife and a prostitute is the blessing; that marriage is an equitable exchange of sex for money. It’s difficult to think of it in those terms—that a man’s love is worthless to her without money or position, because it is without power—but stripping it down to its lowest common denominator, she is right.

For what we thought women’s liberation would bring us-- modernity, intellectual challenge and a power change, we couldn’t—and didn’t overcome our biology.

A man chooses a wife because she is an asset to him. He sacrifices a poly-amorous lifestyle to gain a woman-- sensual and tactile; for her beauty and meaning that she brings to his life. It is an asset to him to have the convenience of a readily available sexual partner; it is an asset of proximity to body that he wants to touch. It is an asset to have a woman bring a level of spirituality into a man’s life that he doesn’t have without her. It is an asset to have her social the ties of entertaining abilities and family. It is an asset to chose to mate at a young age instead of having a life where he as a man is too old, too tired or too inconvenienced to bring children into the world-- and live long enough, healthfully enough to have loved both his children and grandchildren. Progeny brings its own rewards.

Lust propels a man--period. Desire is the intangible force that breaths a life of its own into a deep seeded quest to be made real. Desire is bridge between you and that which you know is greater than you are alone. Desire is fed from the ego and impossible to ignore; you cannot help but surrender to it as it envelopes you. Desire is instinct; men are hunters and women nothing more than prey—creatures for which a man needs a challenge to fight for, to struggle for against adversity, to compete for, to conquer and ultimately capture. Giving is masculine; it is his instinct to give. Every man he must decide for himself whether or not to pursue a particular woman. It is in his biology. Suddenly, he heads to the gym, he gets into a fight. He hones his physical skills in order to do battle with other men for the most desirable women.

But, ultimately, a man must lead a woman into trusting him. He must do the work to entice her into liking him. He must court a woman into a committed relationship with him.

When a man chooses a woman, she becomes “the one” as matter of her not comparing to any other. She’s “the one” every moment of every day by virtue of his shear will—she’s the one because he said so; end of conversation. She’s the one when a man believes that giving to her, protecting her and cherishing her are his sole responsibility. He cannot help himself; he is helpless to do anything less than to love her in that way. He does what he needs to in order to make her dreams, her happiness a reality.

I’m smiling writing this remembering Lisa’s wedding last October. When her father made his toast, he turned to his son in law and said as of midnight, my fiscal year ended, she’s now your responsibility; and with that took out a scissor and cut up Lisa’s credit cards. We all laughed, but at its core, how true that statement was. Here was a man (Marc) who took care of a woman (his daughter Lisa) that he loved. He gave that preciousness to the care of another man who proved himself worthy by his actions of being equally capable of taking care of the woman that HE (Jonathan) loved. I wish I lived in a time when a man would ask for a woman’s hand from her father and it would be granted only after much financial and emotional consideration. It was easier that way.

Regret

Regret. I hate the word, I hate the feeling. I hate that for as powerful a woman as I am, I cannot turn back time. Stupid moments, foolish things said, behaviors that was dismissive before I had an opportunity to see—really see the man standing in front of me. How often have I looked at a man and based on a single moment of perception considered him unworthy of the challenge of the acquiescence of having all of me. I regret how today a woman’s life is spent guarding her boundaries by repelling intruders while trying to maintaining a wholeness of herself within that boundary. I’ve regretfully learned that you cannot. It’s arrogant; it’s lonely and pulls me further from my ultimate goal of wanting one man to spend the rest of my life with.

Part of the problem is the time the societal norms that we live in. Hook-ups, friends with benefits, pick up artist manuals, and ever present feminine men that have been sheltered by over protective mothers, absentee fathers and nary a “man’s man” role model to be found. These pubescent boys have never been taught that at their hearts, they are warriors; that honor means doing the right thing no matter what they feel. That sacrifice is a man’s purview. That making his woman happy by constantly earning her, being worthy of having her brings him no greater joy except the birth of a wanted child.

I have to wonder if men even know how often a woman is asked for sex. Even my trash man didn’t have any qualms about saying to me that he’s wanted to eff me for 3 years. I said to him, what are you talking about? I’ve only known you for 8 months. His response was that it FELT like three years to him.

Do men know how a woman could walk through the door of a mall and have a man follow her while she was shopping and barely acknowledging him just for the opportunity to talk to her? Do they know how often a woman’s answer has to be no? In the 30 second size-up game of pass or play, more often than not, it is the answer from a woman is going to be “pass”. Do men know how often we say things to them just to have them back off? I’ll regretfully admit there were times that decision was a very wrong one.

There are man-boys who think asking a girl who they are not in a relationship with to show up at a conference sans bra or panties but wearing fish net stockings is anything close to appropriate; or instant messaging a woman asking her to come spend the weekend at his place because he has a tongue that doesn’t quit before you even know her last name is the right way to approach a woman. Perhaps men aren’t taught to be a better man. Perhaps I’ve regretfully missed learning the skill of how not tell a man verbally how to treat me, but for him to choose to change his behavior through my having changed mine. How do you learn to show a man by your actions that their behavior is not acceptable, try again, without rejecting them completely? Perhaps it is in a man’s nature that he cannot overcome to have not missed one single mating opportunity to spread their seed far and wide. Perhaps the very wrong ideologies of women’s liberation have ruined it for all of us and none of us really have any idea of how to behave.

I’m not all that special; and yet by virtue of being a woman, I am. I read somewhere once of a man who wrote “the thing about women is their nothingness”. I love that. By a man’s metric we are made of sugar and spice and everything nice—but we cannot be compared (Adam’s) apples to apples. And so, man’s fascination with us is unending but it is not enough. It’s not enough to have me give up my freedom without you’re proving that you are able bodied. Able to compete, conquer and control your vision of the world. Able to cherish, protect and provide for me. Able to be unwavering in your decision that a woman is THE ONE by shear will. Nothing would make me happier than to give every part of me to a just one man; all he needs to show up—and as the kids say, “come correct”.

Memoirs of a Geisha and the Joy Luck Club are my favorite movies of all time. Memoirs for the constant reminder that all women survive by being flexible; that life, like water, constant flows and carves its own path.

I can remember having chills when watching Joy Luck for the first time during the part where the women whose husband was leaving her is told that she didn’t know her worth. It resonates with me whenever I hear those words. I heard them again this week on the TV show the Housewives of Miami. (Yes, I watch all of the Housewives.)

And I suppose it’s interesting for me because for as unusual as it is, I’ve never been jealous of another woman. I see their beauty, I see their allurement, I see how men can be drawn to them as individuals, but never jealous in that I wished that I had what they did, because I have my own gifts. But I appreciate them; Melissa’s coquettishness, Jenna’s virtue, Jana’s feistiness, Alli’s love of all things sporty without being a tom boy, Lisa’s love of all things fuzzy, shiny and girly. There’s a word in Yiddish called kvelling that doesn’t really translate into English except the best description is a combination of love and enjoyment of watching the development of qualities in another. That’s the love that I have for those girls in my life.

As for my gifts, they’ve changed over the years. I used to have what one of my mentors called ‘reverent power’. That I could walk into a room and heads would turn. I’ve purposely dimmed the light on that part of my life because right now, it’s far more important to be in a relationship with a man and allow him to be the dominant partner allowing him his light to shine. I don’t want to be the more dominant or masculine energy—it attracts feminine men. Yin and Yang…equal strength in balance.

But even as the wattage is turned down, it happens; I’m noticed. I was shopping the other day and mentally retarded boy started talking to me telling me that I must like shopping because he had seen me in another store the week before. He was right—I was there. I popped by a house to drop something off and the gardener told me that he knew me. I told him I didn’t think we had ever met. He told me that I had lived near the mansion that he had worked at years before. He was right too.

I was waiting to be seated in a restaurant a few weeks ago and someone came over to ask me how I like being famous—lol. Last summer I was walking in downtown Princeton and a girl stopped me to tell me that she’d seen my movies—more lol. I’ve been stopped just to be asked who I am and when I introduced myself I was re-asked “no, who ARE you?” I’m smiling thinking that I’ve never been in a movie—although I was once on a TV show when I was about 8 and I was an extra in a TV commercial as an adult….but I’ll save that story for another time. It’s doubtful that anyone remembers me from either of those experiences. Maybe I should have done the national infomercial about real estate when I was asked to last year. It’s about power; it’s about aura I suppose. That “it” factor that would make only a man stronger and smarter than am the right match for a romantic partner. I regret that I’ve passed by men that might have been right for me had I given them a chance. I regret that those men wouldn’t give me a second one. And I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve made the mistake of stepping outside of the limelight when it appears that these moments that keep coming across my path is the universe calling me to step back in.