Difficult statement. One I’m ill-equipped to answer really. Even if I am a woman. Since, what womEn want is not necessarily what THIS womAn wants.
But I’ve been hearing this ad on the radio for a show on Saturdays – What women want.
The ad runs to the lines of a dude, sounding like Johnny Bravo, with rock hard ans, living on a secluded island, clean-shaven, holding tickets to some or other “thing” the woman wanted to see. As opposed to the boyfriend that’s parking off on the couch, play station controller in the one hand and beer in the other, bristling whiskers, matted fur, beer belly…
Got me to thinking. What do I really want?
Sure, rock hard abs and those little pointer thingy’s to the side and down the rock hard abs are nice to look at. Won’t know if it’s nice to touch – never got that chance. Clean shaven? Not so much – not many things I like more in my neck than a week’s growth of beard. Deserted island? Only if I’m the owner and you the visitor. That thing I wanted to see? Dude, if I really wanted to go and see anything, I’m more than capable of getting my own tickets – I’ll just tell you to be there, and what you should wear.
So. What do I want then? And does what I want bear any resemblance to what other women want?
And then I realise. For every individual, there’s a corresponding individual.
I like a petrol head. Most women don’t even know the term.
I like a man that reads. Other women might not.
I like to be acknowledged. Suppose most people want that.
Don’t do overbearing – the minute you start ordering me around, we are likely to pick up at least a few scraps. But some women want the sense of security that gives them.
Honesty. Never lie to me. About anything. I tend to take you at your word and will act accordingly – so be frank in your ideas and ideals and wants and needs – I’m sure as hell not going to nag you. But some women prefer the lies to the truth.
As with everything – each individual wants what they want.
Regardless of what sex they are.
The trick is to find the one individual that you find a rapport with. The individual that makes you feel comfortable about yourself. The individual that does not make you feel inadequate. The one that, if not shares, at least acknowledges, your point of view. No matter how hard (or soft)his abs are or how furry (or smooth) his cheeks/ her legs.
This was posted by my son last night on FB…
Maybe, one day, we’ll all get that one person. The one that will give us their heart, and the one we can give our heart to in turn. Without fear…