They Just Weren’t That Into Me!
Time and time and time again, throughout my dating and married life, I have made excuse after excuse for men’s behaviours. Seriously - you name it, I had a list ready. For example: He hasn’t called because:
- he’s busy
- he’s too sick
- he’s playing it cool
- he’s upset
- he’s travelling
- he likes me too much
- he’s not ready
- he lying hurt somewhere in a ditch…
You get the gist.
The TRUTH in 99% of these cases was that he simply wasn’t interested in me; he didn’t ‘dig’ me the same way I dug him. And in my husband’s case, he wasn’t ‘calling me ‘ cause he’d dug his way into some other woman’s pants.
Last night, as my girlfriends and I did post-movie analysis over cocktails, they too fessed up to this kind of thinking; they’d ‘complicated’ what really was a simple message from men: Take a hike sweetheart. We’d all mistakenly assumed that men are as complex as we are, that they have ‘alternative motives,’’ that perhaps we even understand these poor, penis-packing creatures better than they do themselves. HOGWASH. The bottom line is that when a man is ‘into’ you, not even a herd of elephants will stop him from calling you, wooing you, and trying to bed you.
But the big ‘aha’ moment of this movie was not around the male psyche, rather, it was around women’s – that is, how we, as great girlfriends, do each other a huge disservice by telling stories of happy endings in situations that are heading nowhere fast:
“Oh you know Donna? Well she has a sister who’s VERY happily married. And apparently HE didn’t call her for three months after their first date.”
“Well a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend of mine DID end up cheating with and marrying a married man. He HAD to leave his wife for her – their love was that of soul mates.”
Good God, did anyone notice that these stories only happened to strangers? That these stories were the exception, NOT the rule?
As great girlfriends, it’s our job to take the high road and speak the hard-nosed truth to one another instead of feeding each other’s wanton, futile daydreams. Even though it might PAIN US to do so, we must disallow one another from wasting our hearts and energy on illusions; we deserve to move on, expect more, and FIND more.
So the next time I go out with a man and he doesn’t call me for a week (not that I’ll be counting carefully), it’ll be “Adios Muchachos”. The next time he can’t make the 20-minute drive to my area of town for our third date cause he’s “just soooo tired”, it’ll be me giving a backhanded raspberry. And gosh darnit, the next time I (gulp) marry or have a serious relationship with a man with who starts “going out with the boys every other weekend to get drunk and fall down”, I’ll obligingly tell him he can do it EVERY weekend…as I kick his butt out the door.
This girl is FINALLY smartening up.