Let’s get one thing straight. You are wonderful.
I bet you’re the perfect cook. I bet you’re super sweet, funny, smart, educated, keep a nice home, and would make a perfect wife and mother. You probably work out, too, and eat healthy.
I look at women like you with your pretty hair and pretty make up and think “wow”. Like, 100% of the time. Wow.
I’m friends with wonderful women like you. I hear you share your heart.
And I know sometimes you wonder why some guys choose lesser women over you.
Lesser women like me.
To you, I look like a flamin’ hot mess. My house is messy. My truck is messy. I eat too much fried chicken. I’m on a kick where I only wash my hair every 2-3 days because I think it’s healthy. It also takes my morning “get ready” time from 15 min to 10…and that includes a shower.
I run my own business and sometimes my opinions are strong and expressed in anecdotes that literally peel people’s eyebrows off their forehead.
I will tell a contractor exactly what needs to be done, and not flinch if we need to discuss how to remedy it if the job isn’t done how we agreed.
I have zero tolerance for drama. Issues? Problems? Fine. Bring ’em over and we’ll have coffee at the kitchen table and figure it out or just stare out the window together and watch wild turkeys. Drama? No. Not from women, not from men, not from anybody.
My children and I live a spontaneous, free life. We go when we want, where we want, and the world is our oyster. They are smart. They are curious. They are brave. My son usually has a runny nose and 40,000 things he wants to say. My daughter’s hair is usually sticking up around her face and she talks like every sentence is going to win her an Oscar.
I’m too much. I’m too curious. Too passionate. Too educated. Too nerdy. Too thick. Too messy. Too disorganized. I’m too much of many things, and I know it.
But you know what? I love my life. I mean really love my life. I’m thankful for a high school teacher who encouraged me to go to college. I’m thankful I found the gumption to earn my MBA alongside changing jobs, getting married, and having my sweet baby girl.
I’m thankful for a mom who drug us kids all over the country in broke down RV’s, vans, and whatever else she and my aunt could get their hands on to haul us. We spent two months a year traveling with a US atlas, dozens of thermoses full of black coffee, and us kids playing MAD LIB and “I spy” in the back seats. We saw anything we could think of and some things that just popped up along the way. I never realized people were scared to travel until I was 36 and started traveling again after my divorce. It definitely seems to be an oddity for a woman to travel alone or just with her children. To me, following our curiosity is the most familiar way to live. It’s home.
Men don’t choose a woman because she’s perfect. They choose a woman because somewhere, on a down deep undeniable gut level, they can feel that a woman has chosen herself.
A man instinctively knows that when a woman has chosen to keep her well full, she will always be herself. She will always be joyful. She will always be peaceful. She will always be energetic. She will always be beautiful. She will always be passionate. She will always be kind, and funny, and generous. She will always be authentic. She will always have the capacity to find love for him.
He knows that even when she has a low day, or is dealing with trouble, she will always come back to herself. She will always come back to her love for him.
Men choose a women like this because he knows this is who she is and none of who she is relies on him to be perfect.
In the few minutes I sat down to write this I have stopped a dozen times to referee a sleepover, make pancakes & bacon, change over laundry, go outside and water plants & look at pretty rocks with my 7 yr old son, and take a shower. And, no, I did not wash my hair. It’s in a bun with my stringy bangs bobby pinned back. And it’s fine. And I am well loved.