Do You Even “Like” Women? Part 2

woman sitting on bench
Got Your Fucking Attention, Didn’t I?

Larryzb commented on my post: Of course, the question arises: Do women even know how to love men these days? Have you taken that one up previously?

And I responded with: My experience recently is that they can and do, just not in ways that we as Men want or expect.

Now that I think about it, I haven’t taken this one up previously. So I’m going to give my two cents on it now.

My response is what I have seen, and yes, I’m ripping off Rollo. Why? Because he’s right. Women can’t love men the way we as men want them to. For a lot of years, most of my life even, I’ve wanted women to love me the way that I love them. Idealistically. Passionately. Even fatalistically. I wanted them to take a bullet for me. I wanted them to cry to me their undying love for me. I wanted them to kill themselves for me. Because at least for me, back in the day, I would have done all of that for them. And more.

Pathetic? Yes. Sad? Yes. Sad but true. And then I woke up.

Women will never be able to love us the way that we want them to. That doesn’t mean that they can’t love us. They can only love us how they love us. That’s a shitty answer, I know. It’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. And I know that it’s a kind of circular answer too. They can only love us how they love us. Guys, I’m not a woman, and I can’t read their minds. I don’t know “how” they love us per se, only that they do.

For me, I’m big on affection. I like to touch and be touched. I’m sure there’s a “system,” or a book somewhere that will happily label whatever that means. Oh! Well Rob, that means you’re…

I don’t give a fuck. I just know that I like to touch and be touched. That’s one of the ways that I know that I’m being loved. When a woman fixes me a meal. That’s another way that I know she loves me. It shows me she cares and that she cares about my well-being. It really shows up when she takes the time to make something that I really like. It shows that she put thought into it.

Oh, and time. She may not have a fuckton of it, but if she makes it a point to spend time with me, that shows me that she loves me.

Of course, terms of endearment and words of affection are nice too. Calling me baby, is one. Calling me Daddy is even better, but that’s for another post at another time.

Sometimes when she either puts her head in my lap and puts her arms around my waist, or curls up on me, like a cat, that’s a good one. Even when she puts one or both of my legs to sleep.

Do women even know how to love these days? Yes, I believe so.

I see it in their eyes when they look at me. The sparkle, the shine, the shimmer. Whatever you want to call it.

I hear it in her voice when she answers the phone when I call her. All breathless and whatnot, like she just ran a marathon to grab the phone. And of course, she answered it on the first ring.

Sometimes she’ll send me YouTube videos of some sappy love song with a comment of, “Read the lyrics.”

Or she’ll just text me out of nowhere, “Thinking of You.” With the little kissy emojicons of course.

Or she’ll shave my head for me. Because that pleases me and I like that shit. Or she’ll shower with me and wash my back and the rest of my body. Or she’ll give me a full body massage, even though I know she’s dead tired from a long day at work. And she won’t even bitch, not once.

Or she’ll bring me a beer while we are sitting on the couch, watching a movie. Without me even asking her to do it. Or she’ll whip me up a mudslide.

Sometimes it shows up in her urgency to fuck the living shit out of me. Or the blowjobs. Goddamn..The blowjobs. But Rob! That’s not love! That’s lust! Fuck off, I don’t care.

There’s all sorts of ways that women love us men. It’s just not the way that we want or expect, or even hope for sometimes. She just does it her way, the only way that she knows how.

When we can let go of our expectations that they will love us the way that we love them, life gets interesting. You get to see that they can, and do, love us. You just have to drop the expectations and let them show and tell you in their own ways.

That’s all I’ve got for you on that one. I just know the one’s that show up in my world love me, in their own ways, even if it’s not what I wished for, hoped for, or expected. I guess I just roll with it and assume that they do. That’s enough for me at least.

I guess I could do worse. I could tell myself that they don’t love me, that they don’t know how to love me, and that they are incapable of loving me. But what good is that? Where’s that going to get me? Masochistic, I tell you.

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Love Junkies

affection afterglow backlit blur

For any of my readers out there, whether you are new or returning, I want you to understand something about me. This will help with the rest of this post that I’m writing about today. I’ve always considered myself to be a “big picture” guy. I’ve always been more interested in application than theory for the most part. I don’t like to get bogged down into minutae, and so I try to find ways to “chunk up” as it were. Sayings like, “be attractive, don’t be unattractive,” are hugely appealing to me, as that way I have a lot of leeway where I can make things happen, and not get too caught up in the details. I’m the guy that had a lot of fun in applied psychology where I would try something out and if it worked, great! Do that again until it doesn’t. If it didn’t work out, well shit, let’s try something else. I have never worried too much about the “why’s” of things, I’m far more interested in the “how’s.” There are definitely better writer’s out there that can give you a lot of details, theories, and the “why’s” of something, nothing wrong with that, but for me, I’m the “fly by the seat of the pants” and see what happens guy. This may not be the best approach to doing things, especially when it comes to things of a highly dangerous or technical nature, but hey, I’m still here, breathing and running my mouth, and I’ve still got all my appendages.

That being said, let’s move on…

What do you think is the most powerful drug in the world?

It isn’t meth. It isn’t coke. It isn’t pot, LSD, ‘shrooms, XTC, or alcohol.

It’s “love.”

Now why did I throw quotes around love? Because I’m pretty sure that it’s a complex chemical cocktail that goes on in our heads and bodies. I could throw around words like dopamine, adrenaline, serotonin, ad nauseum, but I’m not going to. I’m also not going to give the word love a divine, mystical, other worldly or other being connotation either. Let’s leave the mystic, magical thinking, mumbo-jumbo out of it for today’s ramble and just agree for now that love is a chemical reaction that goes on in our bodies.

Yes, I know, I’m not being very romantic here. Deal with it.

It’s the highest high you will ever experience. The feelings of it can last longer than any other drug that you happen to ingest in whatever way. Most drugs last a few hours at most, maybe even a day. Seldom longer than that though. Some drugs only last a few minutes before you are either maintaining, sustaining, or chasing after that next high. Gotta take another hit, dose, shot, whatever.

Not love though. That one first hit of it, can go for days, weeks, even months. I would know because I’ve been in love several times throughout the years. I’m not talking about lust, or being horny. Yes, they are similar in nature, but I don’t believe that the rush is as intense nor does it last very long. Being horny or in a state of lust is powerful, but it can be abated pretty quickly. Have an orgasm and the horniness is slaked for the time being.

Love isn’t quite like that though. When I’ve been in love, I couldn’t think straight. The weird part is, on a certain level, I knew this. I don’t know about you guys reading this, but there’s been times in my past where I would get drunk or something, and yet there was this little part of me that was always sober. That part, usually in my brain, at least for descriptive purposes, would usually speak up at some point and say something like, “I just want to be sober right now,” or “What the fuck are you doing?” That last message was the more common one. Usually right after that message, the rest of me that was drunk would say something like, “Whee! Gimme another! Watch this! Hold my beer! Check this out!” And it would all be downhill from there until I actually sobered up.

That’s also how it’s been for me when I’ve been in love. Part of me knows that I can’t think straight, but then the “love drunk” part of me is saying, “Wheee! This is fun! She is awesome and I just want to run naked through her hair, lick every inch of her body, devour every last part of her, consume her, so that she’s inside of me, and burrow my nose and face on her so that I can inhale her.”

When I first met my ex girlfriend, in the very beginning, it was just lust. She looked good and I wanted to fuck and fuck and fuck, but then the love kicked in. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think straight. I was consumed. It was the highest high. And that high went on for about six months, maybe more. That sober part of me would take control for awhile and things would be “normal” for a bit, but then she would show up, my brain would get a chemical bath, and it was off to the races again.

It’s something else, love. To feel that you have someone that sees you for who you really are. And they accept you for who you really are. They just get you. And they are okay with you being you. They are even turned on by you being you. Powerful stuff. Now these things, are they in fact, “real?” I don’t believe so, not in a literal sense. No one can truly know who you are, nor you them. But it’s what we create in our minds with that chemical bath. Powerful stuff indeed.

Now, I don’t know if this is how everyone is when they first “fall in love.” I would imagine that it’s something like this based on what I’ve heard people say, watched what they do, so on and so forth.

I’m pretty sure that “why” we experience this is hardwired so that we want to procreate and have children, and also the way that we pair bond. Like I said earlier, I’m not going to get into the “science” of it all, and I’m not going to get bogged down into the details. Let’s just leave it at we can all experience love, and it’s what we chase after, day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year. If not, then why do we get up in the morning? Why do we do what we do? Why do we bother with doing anything at all? Why not just lie down and wait to die?

That all being said, I think it (love) is a wonderful thing. It’s a drug though. In my opinion it’s probably the most powerful and potent one out there. We all do some stupid and crazy shit to get a hit of it.

Where am I going with all of this? Here’s the wrap up:

When you, or somebody you know is in love, especially in the beginning, they can’t think straight. They are literally drunk or fucked up. And that’s okay. Hell, I think it’s a function and a feature, not a glitch or a bug in how we are. But keep that in mind when you are dealing with someone that is in love. Their mind isn’t focused or really in the here and now. They can’t think straight. So take whatever they say or do with a grain of salt. Don’t get caught up in their emotional high. Especially when they are handing out advice.

I know that I would give them some space to enjoy the rush and let it course through them, maybe six months or more, before I would take them seriously again. Gotta get through that good shit, if you know what I mean.

At the end of the day, we are all just a bunch of “love” junkies.

Ah “love.” Best drug ever.

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What Are You Waiting For?

man in red crew neck sweatshirt photography
What if you gave yourself permission to succeed?

You’ve chosen your direction, you’ve decided where you want to go, you’ve even decided when you want to go. And yet, you still stall and stay put.

What’s stopping you? Whose permission are you waiting on? 

Mom and Dad? Your boss? Your significant other? Who?

If you are sitting around waiting for someone to give you permission, I’ve got news for you.

You’ll be waiting a long time before that permission is granted. If ever.

What if the permission you’ve been waiting around for is only available from you? What would happen if you gave yourself permission to do whatever it is that you want to do? What would happen?

Do you think you would be able to go on with your life and do the things you want? Do you think you would be able to say the things you want? Do you think you just might have the relationships, both intimate and platonic, that you want?

Sitting around waiting for permission. Do you realize that you could sit around your entire life waiting for that permission? And it never comes?

Stop waiting around for someone else’s permission. If you have to ask someone else, the answer is usually going to be NO.

When I started this blog back in late 2016, I didn’t really give myself permission to do what I’m doing now. I didn’t take the blog seriously. I didn’t know for sure what direction that I was going to go. I hid behind an avatar and tried to stay as anonymous as possible about it.

I hid it from my friends, family, co-workers, everybody. Even myself at some times.

All through 2017 I was sporadic with posting on this blog. I would go months and months without posting a single thing, and then I would have a flurry of activity for a month or so, only to go back to nothing on end for a longer time period.

It wasn’t until late January of this year, 2018, that I decided to get serious about my blog. I decided I was going to post at least once a week. So I started doing that. I gave myself permission. I soon realized that I enjoyed what I was doing and that it was starting to create a response, so I upped it to twice a week. I gave myself permission to do that.

I then decided to change things up on Twitter. When I first started my Twitter account, it was an anonymous account with an anonymous avatar. Mostly I just trolled people and surfed nonsense. Most of the people I followed at that time had nothing of value to offer to me, and the same could be said of me to them.

I changed that up in February of this year and decided to go with my own name and changed my avatar to an actual picture of me. I dumped almost my entire list of who I was following and started over. Best decision I could have made. I gave myself permission.

The blog started getting some decent traffic on its own, I started following some really interesting and influential people on Twitter and things started to get clearer for me.

I gave myself permission to be me and start saying the things that I needed to say. And people started responding.

My Twitter feed is full of value now. I enjoy getting on and seeing what is going on there. I’m having conversations of impact with men and women that I respect. I’m learning things about myself, about them, and about life in general. I gave myself permission to have all of this.

I decided at the end of March of this year to start an e-mail list. I wanted to be able to interact with more people on a more personal level. To be able to share even more intimately than I do on this blog. Best decision I’ve made to date on that one. When I first started the e-mail list, I figured I would have it be a weekly or bi-weekly thing. That lasted a whole two weeks. Then I decided to make it a daily thing. From that time forward, I haven’t missed a single day of sending out something to my list.

That list continues to grow. My subscribers have become even more engaged with me. Man, it’s been awesome.

I was worried initially that doing a daily e-mail would be too annoying and spammy. Then I decided to hell with it, gave myself permission to do it anyway, and now I’m doing it.

Then I decided to resurrect my YouTube channel. I decided to start creating content there as well as here on my blog and on my e-mail list. I gave myself permission to do that as well.

My subscriber count there is nothing to brag about, but it’s starting to grow there as well. And I’m grateful for those that have subscribed, it tells me that they are finding something of value there as well.

I wondered and worried for a minute that I would run out of time, or worse that I would run out of things to say on all my different platforms. So far that hasn’t happened. I make the time to say the things I want to say for each platform that I want to say it on and I give myself permission to not worry so much about what I’m going to say.

Giving myself permission to not worry about what I’m going to say next has been huge. Now things show up. Sometimes I feel like I’m talking out my ass, not sure where I’m going to go with it, and that’s okay. It ends up going where it needs to go. I gave myself permission to let it go where ever it needs to go and let it end up being what it needs to be.

If I can do all of this while holding down a full time job with 50 hour workweeks sometimes, a part time side gig, a full time live-in relationship that just keeps getting better and better, and still find time to do stuff just for me, as well as doing a decent amount of self care and getting enough sleep, what do you think would be possible for you if you just gave yourself permission to do it?


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