“Who knows why the wrong men all come to me? “If I had a dollar for every time in my life I heard a woman say something like that, now I could afford to do what I’ve always dreamed of: stay all day at the beach. Instead here, trying to understand.
I am not a psychologist, a sociologist or a scholar of the human mind.
This is secondary – who like any other has had the good fortune (almost always) and the misfortune (sometimes) of relating to the female world.
Listening to and learning from mine and from others’ experiences, I made some considerations.
Understanding is the key word, the true secret of the longevity of the happy couple. And since, if we wait for men (including myself) to understand women then good night to the players, what we can do is try to explain in no uncertain terms to women how these blessed men are made.
A man is simply a man and should be taken as he is.
He is not the Prince Charming, he is not the spotless knight who understands you at first glance. Even the smartest one will never be the materialisation of that ideal that every woman has created in her head.
It will never be up to it. More than once I have heard, usually from women close to 40: “I stopped from looking for the right man”. Paradoxically, the women who have stopped looking for the right man are just the ones who found it, they are the ones who have come down from the dream to earth.
Of course, not everyone is equal, someone will look more like you and someone else less, someone will understand you more and someone else less, someone will stimulate you more and many others less.
But nobody will ever be perfect. This does not justify the general lack of trust in relationships, simply because of men ready to look at you as if there were no other women in the world there is always one closer than you think. These men, unlike the right man, exist and are truly in love.
Twenty kilometers ahead
The women look at each other, and a lot: sometimes they make each other a kind of checkup in two seconds: from head to toe, then back up, from feet to head. Some kind of Magnetic resonance. A woman likes another woman when it is elegant, discreet, and fine. Those who exhibit a rather too explicit femininity, those with a showy beauty, tend to dislike women. For men, the subject is a little different.
The excessive sobriety, the being too fine and graceful, tendentiously runs the Eros to peak like the Titanic. The vulgar beauty excites. And the masculine concept of vulgarity applied to femininity, that is, the limit beyond which man feels the exaggeration, and therefore beyond which the effect becomes negative, is moved on average twenty kilometres ahead of yours.