Archive for ‘Dating’

June 15, 2011

Analyze My Blues

by bye2mrwrong

I’ve been thinking lately about my choices in MEN. I don’t really have a lot of experience, after all I have been off the market for 10 years. But from my recent dating expeditions and maybe looking back to the guys I chose when I was 20…it seems that I definitely have a type.

Without a doubt it is obvious to see that externally my men are fair-skinned and blond. Not that I haven’t dated a few dark-haired guys, but usually when I look around my head spins at the site of a blond. I love somewhat long hair on guys, baby face, full luscious lips that just make you wonder how kissable they are, and blue eyes that can make you melt. If it seems like I am describing Brad Pitt that might not be too far from the truth. Admittedly he is my type.

If I could choose a sign, I would no doubt be drawn to the Scorpio men’s intensity, loyalty, obsessive nature, sexually insatiability and passion.

But what I’ve been more fixated on lately is the characteristics of the men I choose: sarcastic, and ridiculously smart, funny, flirtatious, charming, good drinkers, and outgoing. Some were passionate others less. But all were callow and emotionally detached.

So why am I choosing the men that I choose? Why am I flabbergasted when at the end I feel hurt, and lost; crushed when my expectations weren’t met? And how do I know that next time I won’t repeat the pattern?

Those questions make me wonder if our past hinders us or helps us move forward. I mean, if I know what type of men I have been choosing and I know that those men are no good for me, do I now go for the opposite even if I’m not attracted to that, only to avoid repeating the same mistakes and the same men?

May 22, 2011

Lowering My Standards: From Hero to Zero

by bye2mrwrong

When I first started writing this post I meant for the title “From Hero to Zero” to be directed at the men I pick and choose. But by the time I finished writing it, dissecting the words on the page and analyzing it in my mind; I felt that the title was more suited to me. Somewhere in my past I was the hero, the courageous girl who could stand up for herself. Once upon a time I had a strong backbone, high standards, and refused to be pushed around. I knew if someone had done me wrong, and I had the audacity to walk away when that happened.

But somehow, without my knowledge, or awareness, something changed and somewhere along the line I faltered.  When did this change happen? I don’t know. When have I started lowering my standards? When was it that I started allowing the men that walked into my life, to walk all over me?

I remember when I was 7 I had a “boyfriend”. He was my first one. We were really cute together. We had play dates, went to each other’s house after school, watched cartoons, did our homework, and when we were done we would go out to play in the park. It was a great relationship, one without too many complications. One day when he saw me crying at school, he came up to me to comfort me and when he asked what had happened, I told him a secret. That secret as secrets go, was supposed to stay between us. But when he broke my trust and told one of the teachers, I immediately wrote him off. With no explanations necessary, from that day on I no longer wanted to call him mine.

When I was 9, I had my second boyfriend. He had given me a hair pin with a cute note asking me for my hand. Finding the gesture absolutely sweet I accepted. Only that when I realized he was doing the same with other girls… I let go of his hand and never gave mine back. He too no longer had a second chance in my book, even years later when we grew up.

At 15 I found myself stuck in an intricate love triangle. The two boys fighting over my attention had decided to make the decision over who would win me, their own. They hadn’t considered my thoughts on the matter. But I wasn’t going to be a prize to be won. I was not going to allow them to make that choice for me. I knew who I liked better regardless of who won. And I stood my ground.

15 years later, the question that needs to be asked is: what happened between then and now? Why is that now I’m willing to forgive and forget so easily? Why do I let the men in my life make me feel weak, control me? Why do I need the false endearments of a man who doesn’t really love?

May 15, 2011

Different Versions of Me

by bye2mrwrong

I read recently that every person has different versions of themselves. A woman for instance can have “the soft feminine version of her, the protective masculine side, the naughty sexy her, the adventurous her, or the fun-loving side”.

 It got me thinking… could it be that different people get to see different versions of me? My friends have all said that when they’ve looked they see me as a confident, intelligent woman. Sarcastic, but sweet. Not shy or reserved.  Talkative and flirtatious; courageous, sexy, a little wild, spontaneous and fun.

But it seems that when in proximity of an object of my infatuation I seem to lose my sense of self. I change for the men I like. I become weak, and let them control me. I organize my life around them.  And thus a new me is defined. Just as I mold myself to fit perfectly into their strong muscular arms, I change just a little to impress them and make sure that they stay for at least a little while. I make myself someone they could love, hiding my imperfections and  concealing my emotional side, trying to fit perfectly into their lives. So it’s no wonder I get the dates, I lure them in with my witty remarks, poise, and charm. But by the time the third date comes around I become someone who tries to please. I am a different version than the woman they encountered the first time.

If each version of me leads to a different outcome, a different future, a different love; I need to figure out which version of me will lead me to Mr. Right, rather than Mr. Right now.

April 27, 2011

Surviving the Game

by bye2mrwrong

I read a cute girly book recently. I’ve been reading loads of those. Which hasn’t been helping my self-esteem, since like in all other romantic novels the end is always the same: the girl gets the boy, they are passionately in love, and of-course they get married and live happily-ever-after.

But before the girl gets the boy she has to find him, attract him, and make him fall desperately in love. And what are the rules of the game?

Be cool. Be detached. Be aloof. Be bulletproof. Act brutal. Stay in control. Always leave them before they leave you.

Pfff. Are those the things a girl needs to be in order to survive the dating jungle? Since when are we in control of our emotions so much so that we can stay all those things mentioned above? Detached, Bulletproof. Ha. If I like a guy and he makes me weak in the knees I definitely cannot stay detached. And if that guy doesn’t call me like he said he would I definitely cannot stay bulletproof.

When I like you and I’m with you, I feel giggly and light as if I’m floating on air. And when you lean over to kiss me, I feel my feet stumble beneath me as I melt into your arms. When your hand brushes my hair I get the butterfly feeling inside, and when you squeeze my hand ever so gently, I feel ecstatic with delight. I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning, and I want your lips to be the last thing I kiss before I close my eyes at night. That’s just the way I like, that’s the way I love. But when I’m waiting by the phone endlessly for your call, my stomach gets tied up in knots. And when I feel you pulling away I start to crumble as my heart gets torn apart.

“I am an Emotional Creature. I know when a storm is coming. I can feel the invisible stirrings in the air. I can tell you he won’t call back… I love that I do not take things lightly. The way I hear bad news. The way it’s unbearable when I lose. I know that one kiss can take away all my decision-making ability. Don’t tell me not to cry. To calm it down. Not to be so extreme. To be reasonable… I am an emotional creature. Why would you want to shut me down or turn me off?” Eve Ensler

April 24, 2011

The Hunt for Mr. Right

by bye2mrwrong

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I want the fairytale!”

As children we get brainwashed with fairy-tales of a happily-ever-after, believing that the princess always gets rescued by the prince. Indulged with girly fantasies, we grow up blinded by the fairy dust into assuming that we’ll know when we’ve found the “one” just by the way we got kissed. Even Hollywood spoon feeds us with dreamy impossibilities. After all, we all should know that the chance of sitting next to someone hot on a plane rarely happens. Let alone falling in love with them. Right?

With these fictitious ideas and fantasies in our minds, girls go through life believing that we cannot be alone, we weren’t meant to be. We need to be rescued by our knight in shining armor and swept off our feet into the sunset.  With foolishly romantic notions trapped not in the back of our minds but right in the forefront, it’s no wonder that we girls become hopeless romantics who need men in our lives, to validate us. To make us feel important, pretty, and complete.  After all no Barbie is complete without her Ken.

The problem with fairytales is that they set us girls up for disappointment. In real life the prince goes off with the wrong princess. And men rarely make extravagant and overly romantic gestures to profess their undying love. Yet still we obsess about these possibilities. Hoping that we are the exception and that the Cinderella story was truly told about us.

We get lost in making excuses for the men we love or even just like. We ignore warning flags; but foolishly create illusionary signs. We see what we want to see, twisting “potential partner” to “promising spouse”. We put faith in the heaven, god and the stars. We call it destiny or fate. And with these silly hopes and beliefs we begin our search, correction our hunt to find Mr. Right.

April 20, 2011

Warning Signs

by bye2mrwrong

“Women marry men hoping they will change.
Men marry women hoping they will not.
So each is inevitably disappointed

No I won’t try to change you; shape you, mold you, or turn you into something you’re not; or worse something you don’t want to be. You’re not a project I’m working on.

 I’ve learned my lesson. People are inherently different. Some of us are family people; wired to be part of a “we”, an inseparable duo. Comfortable in relationships, adept in the art of communication, listening, giving attention and affection. Content in coming home to someone, and sharing every detail of our petty little lives. While some of us are not so much.

I am the relationship type. I’m the kind of gal that doesn’t need much “me” time. I take it when you need yours. Sure I don’t mind if you go out with your mates for a beer, or if you want to watch basketball, or soccer on TV some nights. But when you’re with me, I want attention, and lots of it. I’m looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love.” I want you to hold me, touch me, dine me, romance me, confide in me, cuddle me, and love me till break-up do us part.

Maybe you call that smothering, needy clingy or weak. Maybe you even call me an attention whore. I just call that love. I’m looking for the kind of person who wants to share his life with me, who can’t be without me. Whose eyes light up when he sees me, whose voice trembles as he whispers my name, who breathes me in like air, and misses me when I’m not around.

I learned from my previous relationship that the one who loves the least is the one who controls the relationship”. I’m not ready to give that control to anyone right now. So if you’re being vague and giving me mixed signals; if you’ve got “potential” but the red flags are all over the place; its time for me to drop the hook back in the water. There are plenty of fish in the sea. I don’t want to give more love than I’m getting. So if you love me less than I love you it’s a sign. It’s a sign that you’re not ready, or maybe not looking for the same things in life.

And with that, its time for me to move on. NEXT!

April 17, 2011

Forbidden Temptation

by bye2mrwrong

There’s no greater pleasure than surrendering to temptation.

You had been out of my mind for years, buried deep in my past. You had been forgotten, and the tears I shed for you had already long dried. Then unexpectedly as if from another universe you reappeared and waltzed yourself back into my life.

Little effort did you need to intrigue me once more, re-capture my attention, and melt me in the palm of your hand. Pretentious and eloquent you seduced me with your mischievous and sexy words, whispering sweet nothings into my ears as you began to play a little game with my heart.

Thoughts of you began wafting through my mind endlessly, and my infatuation with you grew as the days passed by. I yearned for you with such fervent desire. I hungered for us to be together in the most carnal way imaginable. You had become an addiction for which I wanted an overdose. Irresistible to me, I could no longer wait for your touch. And so I took a risk and let down my guard. I rushed into your arms, and in return you enveloped me with the warmth and affection that I craved so much.

In a race against time, I entrusted you with my most intimate self, lest the dream would shatter, and the intoxicating illusion we were in would turn to dust. Completely caught up in this spell you cast me under, I was sucked into a beautiful fairytale, and I succumbed to my most sensual desires.

With my heart wildly racing, and my body tingling with excitement, I let go of reality and gave into the fantasy. The intensity of the moment, so hot, so passionate, overwhelmed me. I could not remember the last time I had wanted something so much. And in the heat of the moment, I could not stop. With words unspoken you made me feel sexy, and desirable. Your lips were sweet and delicious. I craved for your kisses to last an eternity, for I just couldn’t seem to get enough. Wrapping my legs around your waist I drew you to me. Arms wrapped up in one another, fingers laced, hands gripping flesh, teeth biting shoulders. Straining my neck to kiss you as your grip tightened and you pushed your body against mine. I could feel your heart beating quickly, your breath warm on mine. Lost in the sensational moment which seemed to last forever, I was yours, and in that moment you were mine.

Two weeks of blissful indulgence before I landed back in reality. You were no longer there. The thrill for you now gone, forced me in to playing the waiting game. Leaving me restless with unanswered questions: will you call, will you write? Will you still love me tomorrow?

Days have gone by, your silence crushing me, left my soul tortured. Feeling tiny and invisible, emptiness consumed me. You have stripped off not only my clothes, but also the walls protecting my heart. Bleeding, my veins have been cut open for you; my beautifully-broken heart naked, exposed and fragile. And as your memory fades away, I wonder if the pleasure outweighs the pain? If for you it was just lust? And if we’ll ever meet again?

April 13, 2011

Little Rejections

by bye2mrwrong

“Oh these little rejections how they add up quickly, one small sideways look and I feel so un-good. Somewhere along the way I think I gave you the power to make me feel the way I thought only my father could. Oh these little rejections how they seem so real to me, one forgotten birthday I’m all but cooked. How these little abandonments seem to sting so easily, I’m 13 again am I 13 for good? I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful, so unloved for someone so fine. I can feel so boring for someone so interesting, so ignorant for someone of sound mind. Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me, one forgotten phone call and I’m deflated. Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me, your hand pulling away and I’m devastated. When will you stop leaving baby? When will I stop deserting baby? When will I start staying with myself? Oh these little projections how they keep springing from me, I jump my ship as I take it personally. Oh these little rejections how they disappear quickly, the moment I decide not to abandon me.” Alanis Morissette

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April 12, 2011

Today’s Dating Jungle

by bye2mrwrong

When did the rules of the game change? I must have been sleeping. But dating sure isn’t what it used to be 10 years ago.

I remember a time when we girls used to get phone calls from the guys who liked us and we would talk for hours into the night. But guys don’t call anymore. Calling seems to be restricted to when he’s actually serious about you. So if He’s just not that into you it’s come down to texting, facebooking, e-mailing, or some other form of technological communication. It seems that “You have to go through all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies”.

In today’s dating jungle I meet men that won’t even tell me their last names. This one guy said to me: “For you baby its just John.” Well just John…you can just Eff off.  If you don’t have a last name, I don’t have the time.

Unlike some girls, my Irish bartenders don’t greet me with shouts of “You wear your heart on your sleeve”. My Irish bartender actually asked me the other night if we should go have a quickie in the bathroom. And we weren’t even dating. Needless to say since he didn’t get a freebee, I lost my right to free drinks. But guys nowadays seem to get away with it. Why? Because apparently if they won’t get into our pants today, they’ll get into someone else’s tomorrow.

What happened to the days when we knew everything about our dates, our friends, our boyfriends? We knew their whole life history, where they came from, and what they wanted to be when they grew up. We knew their parents, brothers, sisters, uncles and aunts. Hell sometimes we even met their grandparents.

Maybe the world has changed. Or maybe I just haven’t. Maybe dating in the city is different than dating in a little town. Maybe dating at 30 is bound to be more confusing and complicated than dating at 20. Whatever the case if true love hides behind every corner… I must be walking in circles!

April 10, 2011

Back in the Game

by bye2mrwrong

So how did love come back into the picture? Not so long ago my friends started pushing me to get back out there. I was hearing statements left and right telling me to get back in the game, start dating, go get laid. Me, I’m not that type of girl really. I’ve never liked being single, and I never enjoyed dating. Of-course I loved the butterfly feeling, the highs when things went right in my dating life; but I dreaded the lows when those relationships didn’t quite work out. So at the age of 21 I was already settling down, and happy to have found my “one”. And although I was very young, being in a committed relationship just felt right.

But after having been cheated on, something in me wanted, needed to know what I was worth. I needed to stop beating myself up and blaming ME for not being good enough, pretty, enough, sexy enough, or anything enough to keep my man interested. Could it be that it wasn’t me but rather that my husband was just a stupid prick who couldn’t see a good thing when he had it?

So finally after a few weeks of convincing, I got off my recently regular couch position and went out with some girl friends to a party. Initially I felt like Alice after she ate the magic cake; I had grown up while everyone around me stayed little, or in this case young. The music was loud and definitely not what I remembered it to be, the place was huge and felt like a meet market, the crowd was rowdy, and looking around I couldn’t help but wonder how old the guys were anyway. 18? 20?  Would I even be allowed to date them or would that be considered pedophilia?

Every guy that tried to talk to me got the evil eye. A sort of get away from me you pervert, I’m married! But having downed a few drinks in less than 20 minutes, the alcohol was getting to me, and the guys seemed a bit cuter and older all of a sudden. So by the end of the night I was dancing, flirting, and having a ball.

Getting back out there after 10 years off the market was quite the experience. It was fun to feel young and sexy again for one night. That is of-course not how I felt the next morning when the amount of alcohol really hit me. But most of all it was different. Different than sitting at home cuddled up on the couch with my husband. And also different than sitting at home, just as I had done so many times recently, crying and sulking about my miserable and lonely single life.

It was the beginning of a fresh start. I was turning over a new leaf.  I was going to go out there and show the world that I was back in the game,  available and ready to conquer…