If A Woman Likes Me, Should I Run?
To nip this embarrassment thing in the bud for us both.
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The block was hot this week on these internet streets. I thought it already was, questioning the foundation of democracy as we descend into fascism; but fuck it, let’s question if men and women can even date each other.
So what’s the article causing the mf hullabaloo? Is Having A Boyfriend Embarrassing Now?
A title also from somebody Myspace blog in ‘06.
But to be fair, this piece is related to other greatest hits from major publications this year including: The Trouble With Wanting Men. Which considers heterofatalism—a term describing a feeling of significant pessimism in men ever becoming be a worthy, meaningful romantic partner to women.
There’s two important aspects to this article, and any for that matter, that suggest such a hyperbolic, divisive opinion. Optics v. Reality and Content.
Regarding optics: who is saying what—because we’ve really lost the handle on that one. Social media loves to create multitudes that do not exist. Just because an opinion reaches millions does NOT mean millions hold that opinion.
The author of this editorial—it literally says ‘opinion’ at the top of the page—suggested this. Not capital W, government name Women, not even Vogue as a publication through its editors. Most of her sources in this one were Friends and Influencers, et al.
There was also an opinion piece by the New York Times, this same week, titled: Did Women Ruin the Workplace, which was then switched to ‘Did Liberal Feminist Women (hey, maybe throw in a 4th Fox News term, NYT) Ruin the Workplace.’ Which was then switched to ‘Did the 19th Amendment Ruin the Workplace?’ (I’m joking, but this country is also a living Onion article). NYT actually forgot to change the URL, so its original title is clear as day (as of this writing). Which is hilarious to me being that mfs act like they know everything.
Yeah, let’s go back to our jobs with the half women workforce and see how that opinion tracks in your daily life—beyond something that, if you said it aloud, would get you an HR meeting AND the extra modules.
The problem really isn’t the opinion. People believe all kind of wild shit. Some people believe in mass election fraud. Some people believe in mass immigration crime cabals. Some people think drums are better than flats (see VSB cofounder Damon Young’s empirical research on this falsehood). The problem is the proliferation of the opinion disproportionate to those who hold it.
Back in the day, if someone thought having a partner was embarrassing—male, female, homicide detective—even if it made it to the New York Times, it would make it to page 17 in a lil’ text box; those who read the Times would chuckle IF they got to page 17, laugh it off with their companion, and then read Garfield. At most, the author would somehow get to argue this on Letterman right before he introduces Destiny’s Child.
But Vogue isn’t by subscription only in a glossy magazine anymore. Anything anyone writing for the publication creates can become a trending topic. The cycle is: posted online, reposted on social media through the publication and its millions of readers and followers, and since almost any algorithm will immediately add up: recognized publication + partisan title on relationships = viral, it’s a given it will end up on most feeds. Even those (not mine) whose feed/explore page is otherwise baseball, ass, food, and cats.
Regardless, whenever I read something, I ask myself: what were we supposed to do with this information? And I think a guide would have been helpful.
How To Not Be Embarrassing As A Boyfriend:
Know when to cut your head off (in a picture).
Know when to ghost yourself when you’re a breath away from cramping her style.
Know when to not distract her from all the shit she gotta do, but be interesting enough to distract her from all the shit she gotta do because…
Don’t be boring. All of Boredom is on you; you are the Boredom Prevention Dept.
Buy her followers if she loses influence as an influencer once you enter her life as a man of net-negative influence.
Embrace your title as an embarrassment. Be self-deprecating to reinforce her feelings and understand that confidence and charisma are really attractive.
If you’re unsure if you’ll embarrass her at some point in the future, it’s best to leave this seemingly reciprocal romantic connection & book it the other way.
On the content level, on a serious note, a few things to consider:
It does not benefit men’s mental health to be categorically a joke.
Anytime we say “men are___” imagine saying it to a 12 year-old-boy. It always gets to the children. At what age is should we tell that boy he may be an embarrassment, an unfortunate desire for girls?
Normalizing absolutist, pessimistic ideologies, like heterofatalism, can lead to equalizing all male behavior. Doing so devalues discerning between what’s harmful from what’s unfulfilling from what’s loving—and everything in between.
Because let’s face it, like going right back to work with your BALLIN women colleagues after the NYT’s ridiculous headline on women in the labor force, people are still going to meet each other. Men and women will still be intrigued by one another, attracted to each other, spend lots of time together, have sex and intimacy, and even attempt build a future together. Abstinence just leads to uneducated sex. Raising girls in a household where all men are just naturally walking, uncontrollable libidos and premarital-sex is shameful only teaches teens how to lie better. And aggregating men irrespective of what makes us unique and the content of our character only sets the stage for the most manipulative, controlling, misogynistic of men to make shit worse.
All this messaging does is leave more men than yesterday feeling like, no matter what they do, they are embarrassing, a burden, unworthy of desire, etc., and need to be perfect to not be considered those things. For, the true fatalism is if we do not allow men the capacity to be phenomenal romantic partners for women.
And this philosophy leaves more women than yesterday in this dating pool malaise when considering with whom to share the most intimate parts of their life, irrespective of when the water is toxic.
Essentially, red, green, yellow—don’t matter. Within fatalism, all flags just become grey. And we all look a little embarrassing waving that one.