A Few Dating Stories - Q4 2017

While nothing warranting its own entry has taken place, from a dating perspective, in the last few months, I thought I'd share a few recent experiences.

I'll begin by providing a bit of context, with respect to the dating landscape here in Kansas City.  In addition to so many women posting photos of themselves hunting or fishing, I'm smacked in the face and reminded I now live in the Bible Belt almost every time I look at a woman's profile.  I've never seen either God or Jesus mentioned so many times in my life.  As a result, the dating pool here is neither broad nor deep.  Seriously, having just looked, I can tell you that I've got 269 dating profiles hidden on my Match.com account, mostly for religious incompatibility.

Since I've hit the KC area, I've met three women.  The first, I discovered was just a huge mistake, but that's a story not worth sharing.  With the second, I was very interested and wanted to see her again, but she didn't feel a spark.  I honestly have never had that happen before.  The third, I chronicled in my religion post.  Only three actual dates in a new area, where I've never played before.  This isn't a function of lack of interest from the opposite sex.  For example, today alone I received four unsolicited notes from women, along with another three passive aggressive means of showing interest.  Yet, while I've sincerely endeavored to cease using Sloan as a benchmark, the pickings remain slim.

Perhaps out of frustration over there being so few potentially compatible women, I've slowly begun to accept what appears to be the new normal.  I'm referring to the trend of educated, intelligent people losing the ability to write real messages, with complete thoughts and actual sentences.  It truly makes me ill that our ability to communicate has deteriorated to such a low.  In any case, I've not automatically dismissed someone who communicates in such a manner.  Hell, I even responded to a woman who couldn't differentiate between 'your' and 'you're'!

To that end, a few days ago, I actually responded to a woman who sent barely a sentence (at least she gave me her name).  I thought 'I can do this; I can really treat email as texting.'  Unfortunately, I was disappointed yet again.  After 14 message exchanges, I realized this woman hadn't asked me one question about me; she was contributing nothing to the conversation and I was completely carrying the damned thing.  It should come as no surprise I dropped it, at that point.

A month or so ago, another loon appeared on the scene.  Based upon her profile and initial email, she seemed like a nice package; hot, well educated, a closet dirty girl, etc.  Then, for reasons that aren't germane to this story, she disclosed she'd been married and divorced twice.  This was on our third email exchange.  Needless to say, sirens began blaring and red lights started flashing in my head.  I was very up front and told her that was a deal breaker for me.  I couldn't figure out how to diplomatically say that every woman I'd been involved with who'd been married twice before me (including my borderline ex-wife), was utterly and completely bat shit crazy.  So, I left that part out.  Then came the emails.  First was the challenge, that I was being unfair; she sent this note both through Match and direct to my 'real' email.  Then came a rather lengthy note explaining why her first marriage ended.  If what she said was true (and I have no reason to believe otherwise), her first husband was a whack job, himself, so the marriage couldn't be repaired.  She promised to share the circumstances of her second marriage.  My mind was already made up, and I'd communicated the sentiment, so I didn't respond to her notes.  Admittedly, I was interested in what she had to say about marriage number two, but I've learned that engagement can be mistaken for interest.  Instead of insight, I received two more notes on both Match and regular email.  The first berated me for not acknowledging her and the second was a 'good luck on your search'.  Your honor, I rest my case on women who want to make you husband #3 or greater.

How's your love life, single readers?

Kansas And Snobbery

Now that I've mostly unpacked, I can return to a more normal existence, which includes my blog.  I'm quite certain I'll have much to write about in the coming months.  I'll begin with Kansas, itself.

Ah, Kansas.  I've lived here for two months now and while I admit to not experiencing everything KC has to offer, at the moment, my assessment is that Kansas sucks.  Large hairy donkey dicks, if you'd like additional descriptors.

Before relocating here for a job, I'd heard so many great things about KC.  Those I spoke with made it sound modern, vibrant, and interesting.  Great, I thought, sort of like Richmond, but in a cornfield.  Except it's not, not even close.  I'm speaking of the vibrant stuff; the cornfield aspect is accurate.

Before I go any further, I want to make it crystal clear that the people here are great.  They're kind, and welcoming, and you'll never read a single unkind word about them from me.

With that out of the way, let's address the stereotype of the Midwest being a bit slower.  Yeah, it's not a stereotype.  It's true to the point where one's mind is just blown, sometimes.  For example, a few weeks ago, I returned from a business trip and didn't hit my home in the KC burbs until around 11 p.m.  Because I'd been traveling, my fridge was empty, so I trolled through the area, figuring I'd make due with some drive through.  Except, I done figured wrong; fucking nothing was open.  No drive through's, grocery stores, nada.  Now, one of the value propositions of a chain, such as McDonalds or Wendy's, is consistency.  A quarter pounder with cheese is the same all over the world, for the most part, so you don't have to worry about whether 'this place sucks' (we'll pretend Mickey D's doesn't suck, for the moment).  One of those 'consistencies' is drive through hours; they all advertise being open late.  Not in Kansas, apparently.  Same deal with pharmacies.  You want a script after 6 p.m. on the weekend?  Yeah, good luck with that.  Just this week, I discovered the dry cleaner I use closes whenever the hell they want to.  Could be 6:00, 6:30, 6:43...whenever.

At least the food should be good here, right?  It's the  heartland, after all.  It may sound odd, but the two benchmarks I use as food indicators of excellence are meat, specifically ribeye steak, and donuts.  Having grown up in close proximity to those gods of dessert, the Pennsylvania Dutch, I find a good donut to be a mark of excellence.  Needless to say, upon my arrival, I inquired about both items.

I was told, by numerous sources, that if I wanted great meat, to go to McGonigles.  So, with great anticipation, I visited the establishment last weekend.  I walked in and will admit they had a lot of meat.  Upon closer examination though, it really wasn't any more than other butcher shops I've frequented.  This place just kept everything in the case, versus holding some in the deep chill.  A friendly individual asked how he could be of assistance and I asked about the various ribeye options.  He responded they had one type of ribeye (their website said they carried pasture raised in addition to the standard grain fed; it lies).  Strike one for not at least having pasture raised.  I then inquired whether they carried prime beef.  He informed me that everything in the case was graded 'choice or higher'.  To that, I responded 'you massive pile of idiocy!  The only thing higher than choice is prime, dip shit!  Therefore, if you have no prime, you really only have choice.'  Okay, I may not have said that aloud but I so wanted to.  In the end, I took two ribeyes home, and they were fairly good.  I've got a few more shops to scope out, but I admit to not being optimistic at finding prime or pasture raised meat.  Damn, I miss Richmond.

My experience was similar on the donut front.  I'd been told LaMar's donuts were the absolute bomb.  And seeing a line 30 feet deep on my first visit certainly seemed to lend some credence to that assertion.  Needless to say, I elected to stop by another time, when I didn't have to stand in that godawful line.  Upon collecting my box of supposed yumminess, I raced home, excited eagerly anticipating a lovely donut experience.  Long story short, most every grocery store donut I've had puts LaMar's to shame (except for the ones here, which are inedible).  In all fairness, good donuts weren't plentiful in Richmond, which had been taken over by 'gourmet' donuts, which aren't sickeningly sweet.  That's the point of donuts, you boobs!!!  But I digress...

Right now, some readers may be thinking me quite the snob.  However, I don't view it that way.  A snob looks down upon people and things he or she considers inferior, which I'm not doing at all.  For example, if you are manning the meat counter at what promotes itself to be an amazing butcher shop (and this place thinks rather highly of itself), you should really know what you're talking about.  At the very least, know as much as me, your customer.  You should possess the knowledge that only three grades of meat are recognized in the US; select, choice, and prime.  I could call up every butcher shop I've frequented in the past, and they'd rattle that info off and call me an idiot for asking.  It's not being a snob if you're simply expecting an establishment to live up to its own hype. 

Back to dissing the state.  One of the oddest differences between here and, well, every other place I've been, is bottle caps.  Here, they feel like they've been tightened to withstand the apocalypse.  Seriously, I'm not a weak guy, by any stretch of the imagination.  I lift weights and have a solid set of arms and shoulders.  But I've about had a few hernias, opening a few bottles.  Seriously, I've had to break out the channel locks a few times!

And lest you think I've missed one of the most important aspects of the area, yes, it's fucking flat out here.  It's flat and the wind seems to blow constantly and with great ferocity.  Not to mention, it's fucking cold.  It's the first week of November and it's already below freezing at night and not so hot during the daytime.  It's still consistently in the 70's back in RVA.

So, welcome to Kansas, asshole.  You'll be here for awhile.

A New Dating Record

While this post is mostly about the new dating record, it'll also serve as a bit of an omnibus entry on life in KC as well as other things.

First, I'll share some initial impressions of Kansas City, from a dating perspective.  As I've perused dating profiles, a few patterns quickly emerged.  First, they sell a LOT of makeup in KC; I've never seen so much product on faces as I have here.  Another trend is that even the women are mostly rabid sports fans.  KC won the World Series a few years ago, so everyone's a Royals fan.  Then, there's the Chiefs for football.  Out here, being a Royals fan is like loving the beach in RVA; of course, this is the Midwest and there ain't no beach anywhere close.  I will say fewer women explicitly state they love to laugh, which can't be but so bad.  Finally, if I had any doubt about landing in the Bible belt, it's long since vanished.  I've never seen so many women who espouse their faith and trust God, yada yada yada...  While I have no issue with people of faith, I won't date one for reasons I've already discussed.  Finally, there seem to be an inordinate number of women with Harley's; no clue what's driving that.

While I'm on dating trends, I'll also share one that's seemed to be a bit universal.  So many women are posting face pictures run through a filter that is a mix between a soft focus and something else.  It removes wrinkles from their faces and makes them look vibrant.  I'm guessing it comes from one of the apps like Snapchat or something similar.  Regardless, I've seen a multitude of profiles with these pictures and wonder what the hell these women are thinking.  Sure, you look great in your pictures, but what sort of face will I encounter when we actually meet?  In my mind, this is even worse than the 10 year old, 50 pound lighter photos people leave on their profiles because this photo effect requires effort.  Just my $.02 on the subject.

I'm still homeless and living in an extended stay hotel.  Great for points but it's getting old.  I've been looking for a house to rent until I decide what I'm doing out here and the oddest thing I've discovered is that Johnson County keeps being brought up as where all the 'upper echelon' folks live.  Really?  A whole county?  The only instance of a whole county genuinely being home to the wealthy, almost exclusively, is Suffolk county in NY, on the eastern most portion of Long Island.  Think Hamptons and you'll get the idea. Back to KC, most of the houses that meet my criteria are in JoCo, so I've spent a fair amount of time traversing the area.  I can tell you that while there are certainly some very very nice homes, the place has its share of dumps as well.  The key attribute it possesses though is that being the only county that's not neither in the city nor middle of nowhere.  So, by default, it's the premier location to live in the area.

 On to the dating!  I unhid my Match profile, threw the location of my hotel on it, and began to explore (I've already covered those impressions).  Smelling the fresh meat of a single guy new to the market, I was quickly approached by a few women.

Conversation with the first one progressed quickly and at some point I mentioned writing this blog.  Initially she wanted to know whether I was dating solely for material for my blog.  Ummm, no honey.  Despite my insisting I was actually looking for a relationship, she remained quite concerned she'd wind up being discussed here.  I told her I'd seen just about everything under the sun, from a dating perspective and that she'd have to be particularly out there to find a place in my blog.  Perhaps one of my weaknesses is underestimating people.

Initially, when she reached out to me, I hesitated to respond because she wasn't the type of woman I'm usually interested in.  But she seemed kind and fun and uncomplicated.  When I say she was uncomplicated, I mean her mind was uncomplicated with any sort of deep thought; that was what made her not my normal type.  But, perhaps uncomplicated was what I needed at the moment.

Despite being uncomplicated, this woman brought more than her share of complications to the party.    She'd been in an emotionally abusive marriage with a man who body shamed her, so her self esteem was iffy on a good day.  She was also one of those girls who loved sex but didn't want to be labeled as a slutty girl.  To top it off, she bemoaned her trusting nature being taking advantage of by men she'd dated.

The only thing that kept me from bolting immediately was her early revelation that she was a dirty girl and sent me photos to prove it.  I'm a guy and hadn't gotten laid in awhile, so that sort of uncomplicated fun sounded great to me.  Stop reading if you've got an issue with that.  What made her more attractive was that she wanted our first date activity to take place on a Serta, since she'd also been without for awhile.  We both wanted a nice relationship, so this wasn't intended to be a one night stand, but our first date was about satisfying needs.  I already knew that in all likelihood, nothing good would come from this, but uncomplicated was so refreshing.  Except when it wasn't.

The warning signs kept trickling in the form of a few repeated themes.  She kept repeating how she was 'unique and a great catch' and 'wasn't like any other woman I'd ever met' to where it almost sounded like a mantra.  She had lingering body image issues and was insecure about her weight.

Oh I recognized it at the time, the fucked up self esteem and such.  But uncomplicated was so refreshing.

I thought it prudent to discuss expectations for our in outing.  Considering her self esteem issues, I was just waiting for her to decide to be a lady (another post to be completed).  I also wanted to discuss safety due to not wishing to receive a complicated gift that kept giving.  Before I could call, she sent me a note and said she wanted to be up front with me about her dating situation.  She'd previously told me about another guy she'd been talking to, who was on an international assignment but would be returning shortly.  She brought him up and said she took great pride in her loyalty and wanted to meet him when he returned.  He deserved 'a chance'.  Oh and there were three other guys she'd been talking to before I came along and she wanted to meet them too, for the same reason.   Again, because of loyalty.  Uhhh, what???

So, I called her that night and tried to help her understand that dating wasn't the same as little league; not everyone who signs up gets to play.  Grownups choose their best players in order to be successful.  Not to mention you have no loyalty to some dude who you haven't found interesting enough to even talk on the phone with.  I also told her that I would not be one of five, even though she clarified she wouldn't be sleeping with the others.  By the time you get to actual dates, dating isn't a competition where you meet a bunch of people, then rank them.  If you meet someone and really like them, you don't meet a bunch of others just to be 'fair'.  So, her not being able to narrow the field, so to speak, made it clear she was absolutely clueless.  She said that she hadn't thought of the situation the way I had; that I'd changed her mind and she would jettison the three extras.

With regard to sleeping together, I made it clear I expected us to remain monogamous, so long as we intended to continue with adult play time.  Bottom line is if you're sleeping with me, I don't want you screwing five other guys in between our encounters.  It's basic safety as well as serves to eliminate confusion.  It's a two way street because I reciprocate with the same, regardless of whether we're talking relationship or fwb's.  Despite explaining the situation to her in small words, she kept insisting I'd consider us to be in a relationship after we slept together.  I repeatedly explained that wasn't the case.  But she just didn't seem to grasp that sexual monogamy and a relationship were two different things.  The joys of an uncomplicated girl.

We discussed the safety issue to both our satisfaction.

Then, she returned to the her belief I was expecting an instant relationship and I kept trying to explain that wasn't the case.  She'd interject proclamations of how unique and special she was and how she deserved to be treated well.  Also, how she was nervous because of her body image.  Yeah, she was all over the map with dysfunction.  But she remained stymied on how monogamy doesn't always equal a relationship.  In her frustration, she began to insult me.

Well, that did it for me.  I all but hung up on her at that point, although I'm fairly certain I uttered a few choice words she didn't know the meaning of.

Uncomplicated is so refreshing!

I will say she was right about one thing though.  She was quite unique and unlike any woman I've ever encountered.  Her unique blend of stupidity, insecurity, and childish behavior will make her stand out for quite some time.

But wait, there's more!

Another woman had reached out to me and we'd begun to exchange notes.  She seemed okay, if not compelling, but could at least carry on a conversation.  Shortly after, our initial contact, I'd decided I'd already reached a point where I'd had enough of reentering the dating scene, so I hid my profile.  During an exchange, she mentioned something about understanding I was a Formula 1 fan.  I was duly impressed she managed to remember that from my profile.  In the next set of notes, she wanted to talk about the pictures on my profile, and began to note specific details in each one.  'I'm looking at the picture of you under your Porsche...'  Wait, what?  Then it hit me; she must have copied my entire profile, pictures and all.  Whether she had become mildly obsessed or not, I found it creepy.  I asked her how she was looking at my pictures when my profile was hidden.  I'm sure it will come as no surprise when I say she vanished, after that.

And there you have it, folks.  Right out of the gate, my first two encounters with KC women have yielded two fucking oddballs.  Oh, this is going to be quite the adventure.

On First Date Sex

Recently, I had a conversation with a woman who seemed confused and disheartened over her recent lack of success in dating.  She loved sex and occasionally slept with someone on their first date, yet the guy frequently disappeared as rapidly as his post coital erection.  She was distressed over feeling used and not knowing what guys want.

I've covered one of the reasons why men disappear after sleeping with a woman here, but wanted to address another consideration with respect to her question (which she shares with many other women); expectations.

I'm specifically referring to expectations associated with a first date.  The first date is a no pressure, no commitment way of getting to know someone.  To determine what level of chemistry exists between the two parties, and so on.  Either party should be able to walk away, after a first date, without any seriously hard feelings.

First date activities can be whatever the two parties decide.  Drinks only, lunch, drinks and dinner, dinner and a movie, dinner and dancing, drinks and painting class, smoking pot and cow tipping, drinks and sex, dinner and sex, just sex, and so on.  Wait, did he just say sex as a first date activity?  Yes, some people desire sex enough to make it a first date activity.  And why not?  We're (mostly) all grownups here.  Who's to say sex on a first date isn't right?  Clearly the woman I referenced earlier considers it to be acceptable.  Besides, at some point, you'll have to determine whether you're sexually compatible with the other party; why not do it up front?  Speaking for my gender, none of us will turn down first date sex; it's just not done.  Therefore, sex shall be considered as reasonable as a first date activity as dinner or anything else, including cow tipping.

Regardless of the activity, first dates often don't work out for one reason or another.  One or both parties decide they don't want to see the other again.  This is perfectly reasonable, regardless of what the first date activity is.  My female readers are throwing rotten fruit at their screens (you'll have quite the mess to clean up later) because they 'know very well' sex has greater implications than say a kiss goodnight.  I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but on a first date, not so much.  The key words here are 'FIRST DATE'.  Those are zero pressure meetings intended to decide whether mutual interest exists to warrant a second date. Therefore, I don't care whether a date consists of cow tipping or dirty, raw sex, nothing can be inferred as to whether there will be a second date.  And seriously, how can anyone claim to have a deep emotional bond after a first date?  Not much more to be said there.

As an example, awhile back, I contacted a woman via a dating site and we seemed to get along well.  The conversation migrated to sex and we wound up having a bit of phone fun.  I was traveling at the time, but she flat out said she wanted to have sex with me upon my return.  If I must...  She came to my house and we did just that.  The sex was okay but as we got to know each other better, it was clear to both of us we weren't compatible, with respect to an LTR.  She left, we had the one further obligatory email exchange, then we both moved on.  No one was upset or had their feelings hurt, because it was a first date.

With that in mind, let's delve into motivations, specifically why women sleep with men on the first date.  We know how the men see the topic.  Ladies, it's great you have a healthy sex drive; seriously, I applaud it.  If you have a need such that you'll satisfy it on a first date, such as the woman in my example, I have absolutely zero issue with it.  Hell, as a guy, I'll be the first to sign up.

However, if a woman sleeps with a man on the first date to create an emotional bond?  Not a valid reason.  Creating a situation where the guy feels obligated to see her again?  No fucking way.  That other thing I haven't thought of?  Out as well.  I'd go into further detail, but do I really need to write about being emotionally healthy?

But he tricked me!
One of the most common complaints from women who've had a guy disappear, particularly after sleeping with her on the first date, is 'he said felt something so strong for me and that he wanted us to be together for a long time'.  Or something of the sort.  Fucker lied, just to get you in the sack, didn't he?  While it's fun to male bash, things aren't always what they seem as I alluded to in my womanizer post, linked above.

Additionally, circumstances may materially change in the period immediately following the sexual interlude.  I had just such an experience, not a week ago after I'd started this entry (perfect timing).  Things began in much the same way as in my previous example except that immediately following the sex, I still intended to see this woman again.  Then things changed.  She was constantly blowing up my phone with texts, even after I'd told her I was going to sleep, in one instance.  There were sentiments such as 'I've never felt this way before' and 'I can't wait to see you again', which in my opinion, isn't what a 'normal' person would be saying after a first date.  In short, she was making me nuts after only one date.  So, I politely exited.  I have no doubt she was upset and felt used.  Indeed, I received the 'I thought you were different from other guys' message.  If she meant that other guys couldn't deal with her critical mass clinging, I guess she's right.

I was discussing this topic with a woman and she said 'women's hearts and pussies wired together'.  I get that; women develop feelings much more easily from sex than men do.   My response to her was that we're all big boys and girls.  It's incumbent upon us to understand how we'll respond to certain situations.  And let's face it, most of us have had sex on the first date, so it's not an unknown.

Moving on, let's touch on what men want.  I'll be the first to say I have no fucking clue what men want.  It may sound like a cheesy pickup line, but I've been told I'm rather unique in the dating world.    I'd like to think we all want a healthy, loving relationship with a woman who brings us joy.  Unfortunately, I think more men than you realize suffer from insecurity and other fears that prevent them from being successful in the endeavor.  This assertion comes from my own experience in the aftermath of my marriage.

Some readers are undoubtedly saying 'you're just trying to justify a one night stand', to which I respond that a one night stand is a different animal.  In the case of a ONS, one or both parties know, before the first article of clothing is shed, that this will be a well, one nighter.  In the case of first date sex, both parties intend to see the other for additional dates.  While it's true that both carry the risk of one party being hurt in the process, first date sex and ONS's are two separate encounters, by virtue of intent alone.

The bottom line is this:  If you sleep with someone on your first date, whether you're a man or woman, it's still a first date and subject to first date norms.  Any emotional attachment you may have developed on ONE DATE is your own albatross.

Confessions of a Former Womanizer

Yes, I'm the former womanizer and have just opened myself up to the scorn of my female readers.
If you’ve read my previous posts, I like to remain as close to bulletproof as possible, so why the hell would I expose myself in this way?   I read a blog post, earlier today, written by a woman who had a man romance her, then sleep with her, and then bolt.  She was genuinely confused and hurt over what took place.  I wanted to share one potential reason why men act in this manner, from the perspective of someone who knows exactly what goes on in the jerk’s mind.  To reinforce what many women already know (but still get bruised), which is – When a guy bolts like this, it almost never is the result of shortcomings he sees in you, rather it’s driven by those he sees in himself.

What follows are my own personal experiences and rather raw admissions, as well as some of what I found, when I did some research a few years ago. I’m not a trained mental health professional; this post is not intended to diagnose, treat, blah blah blah.

Also, this post is not meant to excuse the behavior.  I know I hurt a number of women and for that, I’m ashamed.

On with the story - There was a period of time, after I separated from my wife, where I slept with a quite a number of women. It was the same pattern over and over. Seduce them, sleep with them once or maybe twice, and then bail, often leaving them hurt. Yep, that’s what a womanizer does. And you’re probably thinking I was reveling in boosting my body count and feeling like a stud. The truth is it left me ashamed and feeling like a complete loser.  I can’t speak for all men, but if you’re somewhat skilled at luring a woman into your bed, at some point, you don’t care about augmenting your body count.  I know I didn’t.   My goal wasn't to sleep with a bunch of random women, then leave them. What I wanted was to have a genuine loving relationship.  So, what was keeping me bed hopping?

Some background for you, before I go any further. Those who’ve read my other posts know I was married to a woman with borderline personality disorder. If you’re not familiar with the condition, take a moment to look it up or read about my experience. Go ahead; I’ll wait. The short version, in the context of this entry, is that borderlines will manipulate you, lie to you, gaslight you, exploit your vulnerabilities, and generally make you feel worthless. Yeah, it sucked and left me with a completely demolished sense of self-esteem and an unhealthy fear of intimacy.

When I left her and got back into the dating world, it was scary as hell. My marriage taught me that being vulnerable to someone was to be avoided at all costs. Vulnerability=Pain=Bad  Yet, I knew that a genuine, solid relationship requires vulnerability to your partner. The result was this insane tug of war inside my head, which was depressing on a high order. I ultimately became an alligator and one of the whackjobs I harp on.

So, what the fuck was going through my head that would cause me to bolt? There were a few different lines of thought that popped into my head, depending on the situation. But they all centered on a common theme that shouldn’t surprise anyone:  ‘she’s going to figure out how much of a loser I am; I’d better run before she does and hurts me.’

Others were variations on this theme.

‘How am I going to follow this up?’ – It’s easy to capture someone’s attention and entice them toward you. As bad as this sounds, it tends to be a formula. Share this story, flirt this way, show how you’re confident with this anecdote, that you’re warm and caring with another, flirt some more. But, no surprise, you lead with your best material, then panic because you think you don’t have anything left to hold her attention, once you’ve captured it. Of course, that’s bullshit, because women want you to be yourself and not put on a show, once they’ve decided to ‘let you in’. But don’t try to convince your subconscious of that.

The Maverick / ‘No, it’s no good.’ – The movie, Top Gun, is full of valuable life lessons for just about any situation. In this case, if you remember when Maverick got back in the air, after killing Goose, he lost his nerve and would disengage, saying ‘No, it’s no good’. I did the same thing, but my rationale for disengaging was built upon as many reasons I could concoct to convince myself a relationship wouldn’t work with this particular woman.

What I was not thinking was how to sleep with as many women as I could and who cares if I hurt them. Again, I’m not trying to excuse the behavior, but I’d be willing to bet that 99% of the guys who act like jerks aren’t making a conscious decision to do so.

I’ve read that those with similar issues to what I suffered crave the thrill of the chase more than men without issues. Then they lose interest once the challenge has gone away. I don’t know if I buy into that, although research shows the free testosterone a man's body releases when in contact with a lovely woman creates an almost euphoric effect.  I know I've felt it.  Those who suffer with intimacy and/or abandonment issues enjoy a larger number of chases, only because they’re compelled to run away, once the shit gets real. You wind up repeating the cycle more frequently than a well-grounded male. But to say these men enjoy the overall experience more doesn’t ring true. Perhaps, it becomes a sort of soothing factor to them in the same way being in a relationship soothes men who can have one. I’ll let someone with the proper training weigh in on that.

I’m happy to say I’ve broken my own cycle of behavior. Therapy helped, but recognizing I had an issue and being mindful about allowing those toxic thoughts into my head has paid even greater dividends. Since then, I’ve had a few actual relationships.  Most importantly, I’ve not slept with, then bolted on a single woman.

This entry was penned a few years ago, yet never posted.  In the interim, I experienced the turmoil with Sloan, with whom I was vulnerable like a boss and hurt rather badly.  What a strong refresher to my subconscious of how vulnerability leads to anything but pain and disappointment.  I guess we'll see whether I fall off the wagon; I honestly hope I won't.

Love - It's a Verb Dammit

The following is the maiden entry in my now world famous blog 😎.  However, for reasons unbeknownst to me, it had disappeared.  Obviously, this can't stand, so I'm reposting it, with a few edits to tighten it up (or make it worse, depending how you look at it).  The entry is important to me for both the message and circumstances that caused me to write it.  Also, there are a number of other entries in my blog that refer back to this one.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about love.  We all want to love and be loved; anyone who claims they don’t is lying. Those three little words can so intoxicating to hear from someone you think hung the moon.  But, do we really understand what it means to love someone?  To me, it involves so much more than emotion.  To me, love is a verb.

Emotion is the feeling that forms for those we feel very strongly about. It’s sort of the ‘secret sauce’ of a relationship and something that I’m not so arrogant to think I can tackle explaining. You can read one of the myriad of studies on the topic, should you wish to delve deeper into that particular facet.

Blah, blah, blah…tell me something I don’t know.

Okay, how about this? Love cannot be love without commitment, a conscious decision to consider the other person’s happiness and well-being as a priority in your actions.

Alongside commitment, comes sacrifice, because in order to place that priority on the other person’s well-being, it often requires you to give something up. For example, you don’t buy the Porsche so your wife will have the funds for grad school.  You sacrifice willingly and happily for the other person.

The two components of emotional bond and commitment must total up to some value, which I won’t attempt to quantify here, in order for true love to exist. However, both must be present. This basic structure applies to all forms of love; romantic, familial, love of friends, etc. The ratios will fluctuate accordingly, depending upon the type of love.

I’m sure we all know a couple who’s been together forever and their entire lives revolve around each other.  They've become so emotionally bonded, that they'd be lost without the other and their entire lives have been about making each other happy.  What about some other examples? A mother loves her newborn baby more than life itself, but beyond the whole imprinting and chemical stuff, how much emotion could she really feel for a screaming, poop machine that won’t let her sleep?  Yet, she sacrifices sleep, her social life, a healthy chunk of her income, and so on because of an unbreakable commitment to its well-being.  I can't think of a more perfect example of love as a verb.

The genesis of this entry occurred about a month and a half after Sloan and I became a couple, when I told her I loved her for the first time.  She took issue with my doing so, saying I didn't know her well enough to feel that way.  I responded that love was a verb and I'd made a commitment to make her happiness a priority.  I still live that commitment as much as I'm able, under the circumstances, as does she.

On the flip side, we have way too many members of our society who allow their emotions to run amok, fall for every person they sleep with, and call it love. But when loving that person becomes work and requires effort, they’re not quite as in love as they thought. The emotion may have been there, but the commitment was non-existent. And that’s one of the reasons our divorce rate is so damned high.

Fortunately, I’ve only experienced this with one woman I loved. She was all in for the lavish dinners, vacations, gifts, and attention heaped upon her. But, when our relationship required work (in this case, honest communication), she ran for the exit.

I’ve dated enough women to have heard every rationale known to man for their previous marriage ending. I can completely buy infidelity as a valid reason to walk away.  Abuse, a no brainer.  A marriage isn’t much good if one of the partners doesn’t honor their commitment to the other.  But, there have been a few who have told me ‘I fell out of love with him’, to which I always ask how that occurred.  Didn’t you try to work to save the marriage, particularly as it was beginning to falter?  It’s caused a few less than pleasant moments when I’ve followed up with ‘what happens when our fairy tale ends?  Would you fall out of love with me too?  Should I just sign over half of my assets now?’ And, that tends to be my cue to exit.

Ordinarily, I'd continue to proselytize but I think the concept a basic one.  Plus, there has apparently already been much written on the topic (which I looked into after writing my own piece) as well as a John Mayer song (also discovered after writing this).

Love isn't just something you feel, it's something you do, because love is a verb.

So, I end by asking my readers a question. Do you know how to love?

Embracing The Slut

I decided to revisit this entry in order to correct a few what I consider important omissions.    

I’ll preface by stating that the garbage coming from my keyboard is based upon my own experiences and conversations; your mileage may vary as to whether it represents the general population.  

Being a student of human nature, I enjoy discovering the desires of my partners as well as what drives them.  When I was younger and incredibly naive, I had absolutely zero clue what women really wanted.  Growing up in puritanical middle of nowhere PA, I was raised to believe women needed to be convinced to have sex (because they didn't enjoy it) and that no matter what, you always always always treated them like ladies.  Our lives were mostly black and white.  We called women who slept around sluts.  Sluts were bad.  Obviously, over time, I've come to realize how wrong we were about so many things.  

I've since discovered women enjoy sex and want it as much as men, if not more.  Some men still haven't gotten the memo on that, but that's another story.  It took a bit longer to understand how women wanted to be treated in the bedroom.  As recently as my thirties, I recall no having no clue why my now ex-wife wanted me to lay her on the bed and brutally fuck her mouth.  Why she'd ask me to cause her pain during sex.  Honey, you're my wife and I could never mistreat you.  

Call me a late bloomer, but it's only been in the last 7 or 8 years that I've managed to put the pieces together to reach the 'AHA!' moment.  In that moment, I realized that women don't always want to be treated like ladies.  That promiscuity has nothing to do with being a slut and that being in love with a slut can be quite the rewarding experience.  That's the purpose of this entry.  I think it's time we set the record straight and embrace the slut.

(I feel as though there should be some opening music, similar to what's played after a talk show host completes his opening monologue)

What Is a Slut?
Before we dive into sluts themselves, it would be helpful to establish what a slut is and just as importantly, what a slut isn't.  A slut is a woman who enjoys being treated as a possession.  She's in touch with what brings her pleasure and how that pleasure's delivered.  She tends to enjoy pain (some or a lot), feeling like a possession and being reminded of her status as one, feeling as though she's just there for her 'owner's' pleasure (a fucktoy), being treated roughly, being dominated, and in some cases, being taken against her will.  Obviously that last one can be tricky and requires great care, because it's not as though you can ask a woman if she wants to be taken against her will.  In general, a slut will do anything (in the bedroom) the man for whom she's a slut wants her to.  Most sluts are monogamous and only wish to be the fucktoy of one trusted man.

Slut Shaming & What a Slut Isn't
This will be one of the rare times where I'll tell my readers how to think and behave.  Being a slut has absolutely nothing to do with promiscuity.  In fact, I've found that women who tend to sleep around aren't terribly good sluts.  However, that's not why society tends to look down upon these women.  Even today, our society retains the outdated notion that women should have only one partner.  That she's a bad person if she enjoys the company of more than one man, or if she jumps in the sack 'too quickly' between partners.  These behaviors will often label her a slut.  However, society doesn't have an alternate term for a women who behaves in this manner.  Therefore, I've decided to take ownership and create my own term, which shall become the standard.  From this point forward, a woman such as I described shall be known as a 'woman'.  I'll hit the double standard and move on.  Guys who act the same way are called studs or just 'guys'.  With respect to slut shaming, just don't fucking do it.  We know you may be threatened by her openness and lack of subservience to an outdated set of morals, but you'll get over it.  Trust me on this.

Back to the real sluts.  Being a guy, and having multiple experiences, I naturally want to engage in some categorization.  So, that's what I'll do.  While the slut factor is obviously a sliding scale with no absolutes, in my experience, women tend to fall into four different buckets.  A bit of clarification first.  The observations I’ve made were within the context of ‘traditional relationships’ with women who I considered to have long term potential.  All bets are off with one night stands and random hookups, which completely change the dynamics below. 

The Categories 

The first two are the easy ones.  There’s the Uninhibited Slut.  She enjoys being dirty, regardless of the partner(s), setting, or law enforcement present.  Being nasty excites her, the state of which tends to be her payoff.  She doesn’t care who knows she’s a dirty girl and it may even excite her further the more people who do know.

On the other end of the spectrum is the Non-slut.  Regardless of how insatiable she might be, she wants a traditional and vanilla fucking.  Fuck her, go down on her, she might blow you, and that’s it.  Don’t even think of tying her up because she isn’t into that, dirty talk, toys, or much else.  Thankfully, I’ve experienced very few of these women and they tend to vanish in short order.  Was it the midgets?

A step down from the top of the freak scale lives the Closet Slut.  She’s tried it all and knows what she likes.  She loves being slutty, but wants to keep it under cover, until the time is right.  The code word to unlock the fun for her is trust.  She must have absolute confidence there won’t be negative consequences she unzips her partner’s pants in a parking lot or screams like a banshee when she orgasms.  ‘Is he going to freak out when I ask him to tie me up and spank me?’  Once that trust is established, she goes from zero to delicious dirty girl in a heartbeat.  In all honesty, I haven’t run into too many women who fall into this group, but, when I do, I always enjoy the ride.

Most women I’ve encountered fall into the category I refer to as the Slut in Training.  Those who live in this realm have some experience being slutty but they still have plenty of exploring to do.  They would enjoy being sluttier but aren’t always sure how to go about it.  They are a bit more self-conscious about pushing boundaries with their partners and will require the right kind of motivation to expand boundaries.  Trust is even more crucial for the Slut in Training, but once you've earned it, she becomes a willing pupil.  In short, sluts in training love sex and are open to trying most things to enhance the experience, but the road to (greater) depravity for them is more of a boulevard than an autobahn. 

I'll freely admit how much I love hearing ‘I want to be your dirty little slut.’  And that’s the thing, most closet sluts and sluts in training want to be your slut and your slut only.  When they want to push boundaries, they want you to take charge and shove them on their knees to suck you, to spank them and pull their hair while you take them from behind, etc.

What drives women to be sluts?

Women have come a long way in terms of respect in society and the workplace.  They’ve worked their asses off to gain parity with men and have no time or respect for those who blatantly and consistently view women as subservient second class humans.  And they sure as hell won’t date someone that sees them that way.      

These women spend their time having to be hard asses at work in order to be taken seriously and in many instances, begin to doubt their own femininity.  They’re still women and want to feel desirable; they want their man to view them as such.  Inside, there is a part of them that wants to be objectified and controlled; they want their trusted partner to ‘stake their claim’ and take ownership of their bodies.  This is the sentiment I've heard from multiple women.  BTW, that was another new concept for me.  Having been brought up to consider women as equals only to discover they craved to be objectified from time to time.  

Because I'm not content to just enjoy my slut, I frequently query them about their desires.  One woman told me, almost verbatim, ‘I spend all day running my business, maintaining a household, making decisions, being a good mother, and all that other garbage.  So, in bed, I want my guy to take charge, spank my ass, pull my hair, and make me his fuck toy.  I want to feel like a woman.’

Insert applicable commentary on traditional gender roles, if you feel so inclined.

While most of the above isn’t necessarily new, I’ll throw out another observation that may be counter intuitive.  That is self-assured, intelligent women tend to be the absolute best sluts.  I've had multiple women, all having their shit together, say the exact same thing.  'I want to be treated like a dirty whore.'   Why would someone who's worked her way into a position of great respect want to be degraded and objectified?   Someone treasure and and definitely falls into the category of successful, buttoned up professional, recently shared her perspective on why being a slut turns her on so much.  For her, she said, the excitement came from being completely vulnerable.  How can one get more vulnerable than being at the complete mercy of a man, where he could do with his woman as he pleased?  Admittedly, the level of vulnerability could be heightened, were the man a stranger, but there's a difference between vulnerable and dangerous.  Although, such encounters aren't exactly unheard of.  

So, the smarter and more self-assured a woman is, the more her desire to be treated like a possession.  But does the logic hold true at the other end of the spectrum?

In my experience, yes, women who tend to be less secure with themselves are more reticent toward being your slut.  Many have the desire, but are concerned about being perceived as a slut outside of the bedroom.  I've encountered this in cases where a woman has been treated as a slut, period.  Unfortunately, men tend to treat women poorly, in this internet dating world of instant gratification.  If a woman who already has some lingering doubts about their self-worth falls prey to more than one man who said all the right things, just to get her into bed, then disappeared, it's perfectly understandable that she begins to have concerns over being perceived as a slut (misused term in this case). It's a double edged sword for a woman who possesses a strong sex drive.  Something a woman once said to me perfectly illustrates the angst that can be felt.  'I don't want to be classified as a slutty girl.'   In other words, she's afraid of being considered a slut when she only wants to be a slut for the right person.  In her mind, it's difficult to win because even now, it seems she's feels as though she should be ashamed of enjoying sex.  Women with more significant self-esteem issues (where their insecurity encompasses both their personal and professional lives) are almost never interested in being a slut.  When I dated one of these women, I recall her telling me point blank ‘I’m not going to be anyone’s toy.’ 

There does come a point where a woman’s self-esteem drops low enough that she becomes more open to being a slut for you.  That one’s pretty obvious; she'll push any boundaries you want in order to keep you from rejecting her.     

Men are saying to themselves, ‘I’ve been with a few confident women and they weren’t slutty at all; what’s up with that?’  The most common reason I’ve heard from women as to why they aren’t sluttier is because men, as a group, are an insecure lot.  If a woman wants to try a toy or to be watched while she brings herself to orgasm, the first thought from most men is ‘if she can do it herself, why does she need me around?’  Side note of irony as these behaviors are universal turn on’s for guys; until they happen.  One woman told me about having to stroke a previous boyfriend's ego after he discovered her favorite toy was larger than him.  The other factor that brings out men’s insecurity is considering their partner’s ‘dirty past’.  They want their girlfriend / wife to be a dirty whore for them but don’t want to consider they’ve been a slut for anyone else.  If the gf/wife suggests dirty things that turn them on, they risk their partner going into the mode of ‘damn, she must be a real whore to find out that turns her on.’  Followed by ‘someone taught her that thing that I’ve never thought of so why would she want to be with me?’ So many guys still secretly harbor the ‘I want to be the first’ feelings toward women and have serious issues when confronted with evidence to the contrary.  ‘Just how did she learn she liked to be DP’d?  What a whore!’ 

I never really understood being insecure in that manner.  First, I’m happy if a woman knows what gets her off and would happily shake the hand of the guy(s) who helped her discover those things.  Second, it’s rarely the male who comes up with the dirty things.  While I pride myself as someone who pushes the envelope, just as often as not, it’s my partner who brings up a fantasy she wants to live out. 

My ideal partner has to be the slut in training.  This has nothing to do with insecurity and not wanting a woman who’s experienced more than me, but everything to do with how much I enjoy exploration and, if I’m honest, my competitive streak.  Very little gives me as much satisfaction, in the sack, than helping a partner discover something new that completely trips her trigger.  Hearing ‘oh my God, I never thought I’d like that’ is an amazing feeling! 

Probably my favorite experience of helping my partner discover new things was with a woman I dated a few years ago.  I think it was the second time we slept together when this happened.  For some context, she had portrayed herself as a total freak in the bedroom.  Anyway, she had me in her mouth and I asked her if she wanted to touch herself, while she sucked my cock.  She hesitated for a moment, then her hand went between her legs.  She was a complete g-spot girl but she started cumming almost immediately from touching her clit.  After a few moments, she looked up and asked if she should move so I could have a better view.  Uh, yes please!  She just kept cumming over and over, moaning and choking on my cock.  Yeah, it was hot.  What amazed me was how afterward, she gushed (literally and figuratively) over how hot doing that made her.  That she wouldn’t have thought much of it since she only usually had g-spot orgasms.  From that point on, any time she performed oral on me, her fingers went right for her clit.  There were occasions where I had to pull her off of me to move to another activity.  Again, I relished hearing her discovering new ways to enjoy herself, even into her late 30’s.  She told me the new trick turned her on so much that she’d had to pull out her toy every time she thought about it.  I taught her a few more new things but that’s another story.

Obviously, I enjoy the sexual tension that comes with treating a woman like my dirty slut (when she want's that, of course).  However, woman's desire isn't always sufficient motivation for me to properly (mis) treat her.  Even for an alpha male, such as myself, properly making a woman your fuck toy requires more effort than not doing so.  Having vanilla sex with a woman takes very little thought and no effort beyond the physical.  Kiss this, lick that, she sucks that, insert tab A into slot B.  Repeat for some period of time and you're done.  But taking complete control of someone requires thought, effort, and planning, because there's a balance to maintain between harsh and kind.  Not to mention many women have thresholds for pain and maximum humiliation one must be attentive to.  Therefore, for me, a woman must be worth the effort to provide the experience for her.  Because I amuse myself, I always say I have to completely respect a woman in order to treat her like a whore.

Despite all this, I'm certain someone has wandered off the street thinking 'he's just a jerk who gets off on humiliating women.'  While I am a jerk, the rest doesn't ring true.  I'll admit to deriving pleasure from the above activities, but it took time to do so.  Most of the excitement I feel revolves around knowing I'm satisfying my partner and her needs.

Someone else is skeptically that a woman can be a partner and equal, when they're being regularly humiliated.  Of course, that's complete bullshit.  Exhibit A is Scharzmugel, who regular readers remember from my entry on whether it's better to have loved and lost, etc.   You'll remember from that article how much Scharzmugel meant to me, how deeply I loved her, and how much I respected her as an equal.  Yet, she loved being my whore more than any other woman I've been with.  I loved her for being a partner and lusted after her as my slut.  

So men, cherish the slut in your life and provide the support to help her reach her full slut potential.  Women, embrace your inner slut and allow her to bring you the pleasure you deserve.  Let's celebrate the slut!