It’s Saturday night and you’re cradling the jumbo bag of Doritos, remote in hand with enough empty beer bottles to start your own booth at the next fair. You ask yourself the same old question. “What does she see in him?” Is he really smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy?
The answer is much more simple than you think. You see, “He” is confident. He believes in himself. Sure you have a great job, nice car and maybe even own your own home. You sound like a great catch on paper. The problem is mating instincts are primal. Ever wonder why big booties are all the rage? The answer is birthing hips. See, it’s primal. Logic has no place in the dating world.
Choosing a mate is rarely ever done with careful planning. Something in our hardwire tells us to find the one we would do battle with. If you’re going to wage a war on this thing called life you choose the mate with confident stance and sword drawn. He is a bit narcissistic but never needs coddling. This is a recipe for disaster should wedding bells ring but she is not thinking that far ahead. Honestly, she is not thinking at all. Something in her center draws her to him like bears to honey.
Your answer in a nutshell: Confidence is sexy. So, ditch the Netflix and hit the gym. Throw on some leather, rev your engine and grunt. This is why she dates the “Bad Boys”.
*All above opinions have not been scientifically researched nor proven to be true. Said scientists were last seen in the gym flexing and grunting.
Daily Prompt: Smooth
Single. There was a time in my twenties this word would have terrified me. Now, I am embracing it. Relationships, I’ve had a few. I use to regret some but know I’m thankful for the experience. Oh sure, I probably could have lived without ever having a gun pointed at me or having someone spit in my face but even those weren’t all bad. No one is all bad.
Today I am happy. No one yells at me. No one tells me what I can or can’t do. I am flying solo and finding a little peace on earth.
I amaze myself daily. I take on projects now knowing that there is no one to back me up. Yes, it’s scary sometimes but you just keep moving forward.
Today I can laugh at some of the crazy things I did in an effort to please a man:
1. Stumble to the kitchen every morning for years because he can’t possibly arise without an obsequious woman serving him coffee in bed.
2. Give up gum because any woman who pops a piece of Wrigleys is obviously a “gum smacking whore.”
3. Glaze 45 windows because he can’t do repetition.
4. Pick up an exconvict from a 10 year stay in a maximum security prison. (I know, I was shocked when he informed me of this duty.)
5. Pour a concrete sidewalk around the house by myself because his back was out.
6. Process three deer in one day.
7. Can tomatoes from 45 tomato plants. Seriously, that’s about nine hundred pounds of tomatoes.
8. Make 7 different banana puddings in an effort to find one that pleases him. As you can guess, none were perfect enough.
The list may be endless but my willingness to participate was not. I guess I always believed if I tried hard enough the sun would shine on me. Well, suck it up buttercup because “fair” is a place for cotton candy and monkey poop.
I prefer to say I’m single instead of divorced. Divorced sounds so broken. I am not broken. I was. I felt like shattered glass. I refuse to lie in peices. I took the broken shards and fused them. Now I’m a Tiffany!