The Biggest Misconceptions Some Men Have About Women
I’ve heard them all.
Many years ago, when I was still young and beautiful, I was doing a temp job for an oldish man. He was a lawyer, probably late 40s, early 50s, and he wasn’t particularly nice looking. He was, however, slim.
Out of the blue, he asked me, “I suppose you’re dating a very goodlooking man?”
I said yes.
He said, “Why don’t beautiful women date ugly men?”
I asked him if he would date an ugly woman. He didn’t respond. The atmosphere was tense after that.
I’m convinced that men don’t see the double standard.
About a year ago, I read something about the Incels — the site for men who weren’t getting enough sex or had never had sex. It was discussed that beautiful women should give ugly men turns to have sex with them. Some men seem to think that the only women who should be considered worthy are those with looks, and other women weren’t worth having.
This is such a double standard because the men who think this aren’t particularly attractive themselves.
The whole thing annoys the hell out of me. It’s a lack of character, and if there is one thing I think more important than anything else, it’s strength of character!
Women Welcome Sexual Remarks Because Men Enjoy Them
Some call it locker-room talk. Men speak to men in a certain way about sex, and for some reason, some of those men think that women feel and think the same way about sex that men do. It’s simply not true. Men can make sex talk absolutely disgusting — the vilest thing on earth. And, yes, I don’t deny that appeals to some women. However, for the most part, women prefer to talk about sex to men they are in relationship with, and it’s more that sex is part of that relationship than sex being a gutter-level pasttime.
Women do not enjoy sexual remarks made to them by men with whom they do not share a close relationship. They don’t think it’s flirting. They don’t find it flattering. And they don’t welcome it.
Women Are Interested Because they Returned a Greeting.
Three decades ago, I was living in Johannesburg and walking down Jan Smuts avenue, when a Lambourghini drove by. Well, actually a man was driving the Lambourghini, but it wasn’t him I noticed. The car stopped at a light, and I walked up to the guy and said, “That’s my favorite car.”
“Want a ride,” he asked.
I didn’t hesitate.
So he drove me around. Turns out he was the salesman in the expensive car store. He wasn’t a particularly attractive man, and I certainly had no interest in him. When he hit on me, I explained to him I wasn’t interested. He accused me of giving out mixed messages. This man genuinely believed that the car was an excuse to speak to him.
Um.
Another similar story. I was living in Kentish Town, London, and it was my habit to breakfast at the workmen’s cafe across the way.
On this particular morning, there weren’t any vacant tables, and either I asked to join a lone guy or he asked to join me. I can’t remember.
As it turns out, he was a truck driver, and he was very interesting to talk to. Me? I’m a writer, and I listen with both ears. At some point, he told me he had to go. We were right in the middle of discussing something very interesting when he suggested we meet again to finish the conversation.
I agreed.
I would have preferred to go to the same coffee shop, but he was hell bent on taking me to some Indian restaurant. And there he opened his mouth to speak. This time, he never once mentioned the topic we were speaking about. Instead, he told me all about himself.
He went on and on and on.
At one point, I brought up the topic that we had discussed at the workmen’s cafe. He walked right by. For me, that was it. I told him I was tired (I was), and I wanted to go home. I also wanted to walk home alone because the place was two blocks from where I lived. And I had had more than enough of him.
He insisted on accompanying me. And then, somehow or other, he forced his way into my place and tried to kiss me. I was horrified. I wiggled my way out of it and, at this point, I was quite firm, and told him to go.
He phoned me a few times, totally confused. “I told you all about myself,” he said, “you know what you’re getting into.”
I told him I wasn’t interested.
“But you spoke to me,” he said.
Women Play Hard to Get
Well, maybe some women do. However, by an accident of birth, I was born with the kind of looks that had men falling all over me for most of my life, so I never had to play hard to get. That said, I couldn’t be bothered. I don’t see the point.
So when I was living in San Diego, this guy asked me out to eat. I had absolutely no interest and I said no. He begged. And begged. And begged. I kept saying no. However, after five minutes, I just gave up and conceded.
While at dinner, he kept asking me questions about myself — like what are my interests. So I would explain climate change, geology, neurology, the finer points of Art Deco architecture. Of course, I had no interest in him so I didn’t ask. Actually, basically, I don’t have any interest in most people. I am interested in topics. I love it when people have interesting things to talk about.
At some point, just as we were starting dessert, he said, “You have beautiful eyes.” I was stunned. Here I am talking about progressive policies and he is looking at my eyes? WTF?
I said thank you and, with difficulty, picked up my thread.
He waited a moment and then said, “You have beautiful eyes.” In that moment I realized he had no interest whatsoever in the topic I was talking about, and I stopped. I would never bore anyone with my interests. I accept that while they fascinate me, they aren’t for everybody, and people’s time is valuable.
I think he saw the expression on my face, and that was that. I ate my last spoon of dessert and said thank you. I think he took me home. The ride back was silent. I never saw him again.
Yet another story — this one about one of my clients — an architect. I think his name was Geoff. We sort of got along, and in those days, I did not know that I had Asperger’s, and I was as financially desperate as I always was. Bringing up a kid on your own (I didn’t want money from my ex-husband) is hard. So I wanted to ask him about why I couldn’t progress career wise.
He suggested we talk about it over lunch.
I said yes, and we duly met.
During lunch, I explained my problem to him. He listened. He didn’t give me one bit of useful information. Then he exploded at me and told me he was human, too, and I hadn’t asked him one question about himself. He seemed to think that this was some sort of discussion about the two of us giving each other turns to talk. I was only there to try to find out why I was struggling so much in my working life. I had been quite clear about what I expected from him — just input in how I could get better jobs. I was absolutely gobsmacked at his anger.
I sort of dropped him as a client after that.
Men Project Their Own Interest onto the Women
One night I was dancing in La Jolla, California. I love swing and Latin. There was this guy that came most weeks, and I danced with him. One night he asked me out. I explained to him that I didn’t know him, and that there wasn’t anything between us, and to wait and see how things developed. They didn’t develop. Of course, I didn’t expect them to develop. I had no interest.
A year later, he asked me out again. I said the same thing. He said, “You said that last year.”
I responded with, “There’s no chemistry.”
He replied, “Yes, there is.”
My mind still boggles. This man thought that because he felt some sort of attraction to me, I must feel the same way. Or maybe he was thinking that I thought he wasn’t interested or something, and he was confirming his interest in me.
I have no idea.
If a Woman is Looking at You, She is Interested.
Okay, I admit to being stupid on this one, but I was always taught it was rude to stare.
In this story, I was at a pub in Cape Town, South Africa (Okay, yes, I’ve lived in 26 cities, in six countries, and on three continents. I was in my early 30s, newly divorced, and was visiting my sister who was serving at a pub. At some point, this guy kept looking at me, his stare very intent.
I was irritated — I found it rude. I was always told it was rude for people to stare at you. Why would I think anything else? So I stared back to give him a taste of his own medicine.
He got up from his chair to talk to me. So I told him he was extremely rude to be staring at me. He looked quite startled for a moment, but then he went back to his chair, and he never looked at me for the rest of the evening.
Okay, I admit it. This one should have been labeled, “Everything is not always what it seems.’ I have very little experience with men, and their behaviour continues to perplex me.
The Rich Business Owner from Cape Town
I was in my mid-30s, and yes, I looked like an adolescent. I have always looked younger than my age. I went for a job interview. At some point he said he would like to finish the job interview at dinner. I didn’t have a choice. I said yes.
At the Mt Nelson hotel, the Maitre D’ met us at the door and said he had no tables available. He was insistent. Then the Maitre D saw me. His jaw dropped. He changed his mind immediately. He told the man who had interviewed me that yes he did have a table and led us to a table. The restaurant was fairly empty. By the way, the Mount Nelson is very, very expensive.
The Maitre D kept coming to the table asking if everything was okay. He kept staring at me. When he asked me if I wanted desert, the potential ‘boss-man’ looked at me and said curtly, ‘We’re going.” I was stunned.
As we walked to his red sports car, he said to me, “Would you like the job?” I said no. He followed up with “Would you like to go out with me again?” I said no. And that was that.
The sheer gall of some men leaves me amazed a times.
Giving a Woman Gifts, Sending her Flowers, Means She Will Like You.
In my twenties, I went through a period where I had a different date every night of the week. I never dated the same man twice. And I got flowers and chocolates and things from a lot of them. To be honest, I seldom knew their names when they came to the door, and by the end of the evening, because I was too embarrassed to ask, I didn’t know either.
That said, the flowers and the chocolates and whatever meant nothing to me. I really have no idea why other women get so excited about these things. They are absolutely meaningless to me.
In yet another city, a guy kept bringing me watches, t-shirts, and other items of clothing from the Far East. He owned a textile company. I really, really didn’t like his taste. So I gave the stuff away. Did he think that I wanted him to bring me things?
I don’t like men because they give me things. I like men when they are incredibly attractive, have an Einstein brain, are highly educated, are refined, and have a strong character. Sorry, my father set me up for life. I researched it. We all look for the characteristics of our opposite sex parent.
I’m Sure You Can Add Your Stories
I’m definitely not good with the opposite sex. I find it difficult to understand what goes on in their minds. If they want me to tell them about my interests, they shouldn’t get upset when I tell them. And if my topics bore them, I understand. They can just cut the evening short. I will not be offended. But please don’t ask me what my interests are when that’s not what you are interested in. I hate talking about myself anyway. I would much rather talk about world issues.
These days I’m a prize bitch to men. They wasted so much of my time, and they caused me so much grief. The irony is that I’ve never had a relationship, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a man that I am physically and intellectually attracted to at the same time. I feel deeply sad about that. I think I would have made a wondeful partner for the right man, and my life certainly would have been better if there had been someone who loved me.
So, on second thoughts, maybe I’ve got everything I’ve just written wrong. Sorry you had to read through it all. :)
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