What Do I Want in a Man? The Re-Hash

*Long post alert*

What Do I Want in a Man The Re-Hash

So …. I’ve been going #BacktotheBeginning on Twitter, sharing all the old posts right from the beginning again. The name gives it away really. One of my recent finds was this little beauty from July 2012 > What Do I Want in a Man?

I had a read through it, laughing to myself, mostly because of the poor writing quality, but also because I was a funny fucker. It’s funny how things change too. Some of the things I wanted back then are still important now, of course, but my priorities have all changed. It’s been five years. I guess that was to be expected.

He must be able to spell.

Well, that’s not important now. I’m a writer. Although I’m very well aware that my writing is far from perfect (just check the typos), I’ve long since come to the understanding that people just don’t care how they write these days. Typos in messages, although cringey for me, just don’t phase other people. Writing isn’t that important to other people – non-writing people. Life is too short to worry about how to spell a word when you can just shorten it to three letters and one syllable. Don’t get me wrong, if I were to find myself single again and some lad sent me a message like, “Sup bbe, whatcha up2?” I still wouldn’t date him. But five years ago I would have corrected his mistakes. I wouldn’t bother now. Do you know why? Because you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, and most of these people can’t see the problems with the spelling and grammar in their messages to start with.

I want a man that looks good.

Firstly, let’s just change that to “I want a man who looks good.” Secondly, let’s just scrap that sentence entirely. Looks are not important to me at all, and that’s something I’ve definitely learned in the last five years. I have a “type,” of course, but I wouldn’t say the chaps I date are conventionally attractive. I think they’re hot as fuck obviously. I wouldn’t have dated them if I didn’t find them attractive in some way, but I know they aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. I’m generally dating the guys that other girls don’t want. I want the bearded chubsters with a tooth missing and no hair.

I just find weird things attractive. Bear is beautiful to me, but other people don’t understand my attraction to him. I don’t care. When I make him giggle and that smile cracks his face, he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. But with no hair, a grey beard, a tooth missing, and more than a few wrinkles thrown in for good measure, I know he’s no oil painting. I’m not either. Especially right now in writer mode – no underwear, no makeup, a baggy tee, Bear’s joggers (with elasticated ankles), and my hair thrown back into a ponytail. At least I washed it yesterday. Before that, I hadn’t washed my hair in like, four days. I hadn’t showered in two …

I want a man that is a man. 

Again, let’s just correct that awful sentence. “I want a man who is a man.”

This still very much applies. I don’t want a delicate flower. I’m a delicate flower enough for the both of us. I can take care of myself, I just can’t be bothered to. I’m 31 years old now. I don’t feel the need to prove my independence to a man. I know I’m independent as fuck. I’ve been looking after myself for 15 or so years, and I think I’ve done a damn good job of it.

I want my man to wrap his arms around me now and just let me cry for no reason on his shoulder. I’m hard as fuck when I need to be, but I don’t always want to be like that. I want someone who can be my secret Bear just two steps behind, jumping in when I need them to … when I can’t be bothered / am too scared to fight my own battles.

Good personality, a man who can challenge me (both in and out of the bedroom), not a lapdog …

They’re all very valid points, and all things I still agree with. I still need someone who challenges me, both in and out of the bedroom, and I’m never going to be the type of girl who enjoys vanilla sex. Well, vanilla sex all the time. I don’t mind it from time to time. I’m getting older.

But sex isn’t as important to me as it was a few years ago. Lots of things aren’t important to me as they were a few years ago. Money, for example. Money is a classic example. (The sex thing is a brand new post all of its own… I know that because I started writing about it and this post ended up being too long so I had to take that bit out. It’s coming though … soon!) 

My opinion on money has changed a lot. I think I need to talk about this in greater detail at some point too, but I seem to be attracted to men who are the absolute worst with money. Brown Eyes, Jock, Big Love … They’ve all been bloody useless. I know I shouldn’t say this, and a hundred women are going to want to slap me in the face for saying it, but I’m the breadwinner and I like it. I don’t care if he has his own money. I earn enough to keep us both going, if necessary, and I wouldn’t necessarily turn down a date with Mr. Unemployed now. Five years ago, I wouldn’t have even gone on date number one with the guy who didn’t have a job, but now I know there’s more than one reason behind NOT being in employment. All I shall say is that Bear has opened my eyes to an awful lot. I’m probably one of those people who needs to step down from their ivory tower from time to time, just like I suggested in one of my previous posts.

So … what am I looking for now? What are my priorities now? 

I want a man who can be a good father. Scrap that, I need a man who can be a good father. I want kids. I definitely do. That’s become more apparent over recent years, and it’s something that has come up a few times with Bear and I. I think Bear would be a fantastic father. He’s not the best, but I’m not even so sure that someone can be the “best”. He tries damn hard though, and more than that, he tries hard to become a better father every day. Surely that’s all you can want from a father?

Flip things around, however, and I’m starting to come around to the idea that I might NEVER have kids. I’m only 31, I’m still young, blah, blah, blah. But I do know it’s gonna get harder and harder the longer I leave it. I’ve done my research … too much of it probably. So, this means I need a man who can fill the void that might be left if I can’t / don’t have kids. I quite like my life without them. I love Bear’s Son. A shit ton more than I ever thought I could love someone else’s kid. Is that enough? Who knows? I do know that I’m more than content with my little setup right now though. This works for me right now, me, my fella, his kid and my cat. It’s a beautiful little dysfunctional family, and I kinda love it.

I don’t need a man who can support me or anything like that. I got this. I can handle the adult stuff … mostly. I’m a bit disorganised and my bills are sometimes paid late because I’m the least grown-up person I know, but I can handle it. I can make all the money we need. I do need a man who is driven though. He needs to have goals of some description, even if they aren’t the kind of goals I would have. Even if he doesn’t really know what he wants, he must be driven enough to better his position. Not frantically, but … y’know, enough. I’m an absolute workaholic. Given half the chance, I would work my entire life away. I need a man who will understand that side of me, but who also has the capability to drag me out of it from time to time. This goes back to needing a guy who won’t be my lapdog. Sometimes I really do need draggin’ away from my damn laptop.

Oh, he’s gotta take photos of me too. I can’t have just selfies adorning my Instagram page. Also: I need them for some of other work stuff I do. Bestie used to have the photographer job …

Things have changed an awful lot. The stuff I once found important just seems to superficial to me now. Bear is probably far removed from anyone my family and friends would put me with, but when they see us together they always say we are made for each other. It’s wonderful to hear it, I won’t lie, and I just hope it stays that way. We have our ups and downs, like most other couples, but I love that man to death. As far as I’m concerned, he’s got everything I want from a man.

Someone left a comment on my original post, back in July of 2012, and this is what they said:

“You do not ask for too much. So all I can tell you is this…If you want all those things in a man, BE those things in a woman.” 

And I took that advice on board at the time too. I like to think that I do have all the qualities that I would expect a man to have – loyalty, good communication, funny, honest, a bit ditzy and more than a tad clumsy. I’m not so sure I could be described as a “good mother,” but I’m not one. I do know that I have managed to keep a cat alive for three years, and I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping myself alive too. I’m just saying, I’d date me.

But what I want in a man isn’t defined by looks. I want an old-school gentleman who’ll slap my ass as I walk past, but only when I want him to. I want him to carry my bags and put up shelves and take the trash out, but I also want him to accept that I can do everything he can do, I just choose not to. Bear and I have pink jobs and blue jobs in our house for a reason. There are some jobs I don’t like doing and there are some jobs he doesn’t like doing. We work it out. It’s got bugger all to do with gender.

I want a man who will respect me out of the bedroom, and totally disrespect me when we’re in it. At the same time, he can’t get offended when other things are important. These things include work, which I spent like, eighty percent of my time doing. If you can’t get on board with that, we won’t work. That won’t change. In fact, the workaholic side of me has just gotten worse and worse as the years have rolled by.

Above all that, I want a man who loves me for who I am right now. Not who I was, not who I could be in the future, but who I am right now. I think I’ve found that man. He’s got most of the traits I would want ticked on the checklist, and a few I didn’t even realise I wanted. He’s not perfect. But I love him.

What do I want in a man? I want someone who works with me, who makes me want to be a better person, and who protects me when I don’t even want to admit that I need protecting.

I’ve ticked all three of my boxes. But MAN have I had to kiss a lotta frogs to get here! Who’d have thought I would have found my Prince Charming on Tinder?!

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