A self-centered french-speaking thirty-something north-american male with delusions of having something to say
Help! I’m losing my depth…
Read the intro to this post here
From early on in my teens, it became clear to me that I didn’t look at women exactly the same way as other guys did. I would not even notice the “perfect 10” that my friends were all drooling over, and then I would see a woman pass by who totally stoked my embers and my friends would shrug saying: “Dude, what are you talking about? She’s barely a seven!” It sometimes did happen that we would all agree on the same girl, but it was clear my standards had nothing to do with theirs.
I was much less interested in a woman’s measurements than in something I saw in her eyes… there was something in the way some women walked and carried themselves that just drove me nuts and it wasn’t just to be found in the so-called hotties… in fact it seemed to me that a majority of the girls my friends thought were hotties didn’t have it while most girls who had it were those my friends considered sevens or eights. (The truth is we didn’t grade women on numbered scales like that but it’s easier to tell the story that way) It was even to be found in some girls my friend considered plain ugly. But with me it invariably had the same effect, whatever it was, it didn’t matter how she looked, if she had it, it made me want to have sex with her.
Which is not to say I ever did. (More on that in a future post)
Though my friends often laughed at my quirky taste in women, (often suggesting I might be gay – as guys will do) I always told myself that it was they who were blind whereas I knew what it was really about. They were just attracted to what the overwhelming social conditioning of our times (mostly through advertising) was brainwashing them into thinking they should find attractive. While I, who was a deeper human being than they, was beyond all that. I could see through all that crap and allow myself to be attracted by a woman’s “inner beauty”… her soul.
I was always proud of that. In fact, I would even brag about this to girls, thinking I would impress them with my depth and maturity compared to other guys. And the truth is, I did get a lot of validation from girls about such things. Just not the type I was hoping for… Girls trusted me, but I was mostly the nice guy they confided in while my “less evolved” friends fooled around with them, treated them like dirt and broke their hearts. (again, I plan to expand on this in a future post)
Teen frustrations aside, I’ve still always been proud of my ability not to get fooled by plastic beauty. And I still talk about this to women as it is a quality that distinguishes me from other guys and that many of them seem to appreciate particularly… especially as they / we are getting older. Plus I like the idea that I’m not a slave to the same pretty women as everyone else. So I have always made this one of the things that define who I am. An integral part of my identity
There’s only one problem, it’s not true anymore.
I don’t know exactly when it started, but a few years ago, I started to find myself having reactions (strong ones) to girls who, after I regained my senses, clearly didn’t have it. All they had to have was a tight body and a sexy outfit. Maybe it was the fact that I was now in my thirties… maybe it was all that time spent in relationships with older women… maybe it was just the advent of the Britney Spears navel flashing fashions of the time but gradually, something changed in me until I found that my head was turning and my heart stopping for any sexy young thing that was showing a little bit of skin whether she had it or not… Suddenly, the view of a young woman with a tight body elicited stronger physical reactions in me than my it women ever did. Where the it women, in their infinite variety, provoke an “oooh… wouldn’t it be fun to see how many times I can make you cum?” type of reaction, the armies of identical looking young sexy numbers provoke more of a “You don’t want to know the things I’m thinking of doing to you right now” type of reaction.
Is this what every other guy’s had to deal with since being a teenager? If so, no wonder men are such jerks! …and why did it take me so long to feel it?
Or is it just something that happens to men as we get older, that we become more and more powerfully attracted to …youth
I rather think it’s the latter. But DAMN! It’s a powerful and disruptive feeling. (and I thought this was only supposed to happen when I turned 40!)
I wouldn’t mind so much if it didn’t interfere with my old way of gauging a woman’s attractiveness, but it totally does. I now find myself not considering women I would have considered before just because they stray too far from that youthful ideal. I find myself yearning for a woman that fulfills both criteria (to have it AND a young hot body)
I find myself, as I attempt to rewrite my old dating site profiles for this new “run” I am about to go on, thinking about removing lines such as “I’m more interested in who you are than what you look like”… Damn! I liked that line. But it just doesn’t sound sincere anymore…
Oh my god! I’m becoming like every other guy, I just want a hot babe!
HELP ME! I’m losing my depth.
From early on in my teens, it became clear to me that I didn’t look at women exactly the same way as other guys did. I would not even notice the “perfect 10” that my friends were all drooling over, and then I would see a woman pass by who totally stoked my embers and my friends would shrug saying: “Dude, what are you talking about? She’s barely a seven!” It sometimes did happen that we would all agree on the same girl, but it was clear my standards had nothing to do with theirs.
I was much less interested in a woman’s measurements than in something I saw in her eyes… there was something in the way some women walked and carried themselves that just drove me nuts and it wasn’t just to be found in the so-called hotties… in fact it seemed to me that a majority of the girls my friends thought were hotties didn’t have it while most girls who had it were those my friends considered sevens or eights. (The truth is we didn’t grade women on numbered scales like that but it’s easier to tell the story that way) It was even to be found in some girls my friend considered plain ugly. But with me it invariably had the same effect, whatever it was, it didn’t matter how she looked, if she had it, it made me want to have sex with her.
Which is not to say I ever did. (More on that in a future post)
Though my friends often laughed at my quirky taste in women, (often suggesting I might be gay – as guys will do) I always told myself that it was they who were blind whereas I knew what it was really about. They were just attracted to what the overwhelming social conditioning of our times (mostly through advertising) was brainwashing them into thinking they should find attractive. While I, who was a deeper human being than they, was beyond all that. I could see through all that crap and allow myself to be attracted by a woman’s “inner beauty”… her soul.
I was always proud of that. In fact, I would even brag about this to girls, thinking I would impress them with my depth and maturity compared to other guys. And the truth is, I did get a lot of validation from girls about such things. Just not the type I was hoping for… Girls trusted me, but I was mostly the nice guy they confided in while my “less evolved” friends fooled around with them, treated them like dirt and broke their hearts. (again, I plan to expand on this in a future post)
Teen frustrations aside, I’ve still always been proud of my ability not to get fooled by plastic beauty. And I still talk about this to women as it is a quality that distinguishes me from other guys and that many of them seem to appreciate particularly… especially as they / we are getting older. Plus I like the idea that I’m not a slave to the same pretty women as everyone else. So I have always made this one of the things that define who I am. An integral part of my identity
There’s only one problem, it’s not true anymore.
I don’t know exactly when it started, but a few years ago, I started to find myself having reactions (strong ones) to girls who, after I regained my senses, clearly didn’t have it. All they had to have was a tight body and a sexy outfit. Maybe it was the fact that I was now in my thirties… maybe it was all that time spent in relationships with older women… maybe it was just the advent of the Britney Spears navel flashing fashions of the time but gradually, something changed in me until I found that my head was turning and my heart stopping for any sexy young thing that was showing a little bit of skin whether she had it or not… Suddenly, the view of a young woman with a tight body elicited stronger physical reactions in me than my it women ever did. Where the it women, in their infinite variety, provoke an “oooh… wouldn’t it be fun to see how many times I can make you cum?” type of reaction, the armies of identical looking young sexy numbers provoke more of a “You don’t want to know the things I’m thinking of doing to you right now” type of reaction.
Is this what every other guy’s had to deal with since being a teenager? If so, no wonder men are such jerks! …and why did it take me so long to feel it?
Or is it just something that happens to men as we get older, that we become more and more powerfully attracted to …youth
I rather think it’s the latter. But DAMN! It’s a powerful and disruptive feeling. (and I thought this was only supposed to happen when I turned 40!)
I wouldn’t mind so much if it didn’t interfere with my old way of gauging a woman’s attractiveness, but it totally does. I now find myself not considering women I would have considered before just because they stray too far from that youthful ideal. I find myself yearning for a woman that fulfills both criteria (to have it AND a young hot body)
I find myself, as I attempt to rewrite my old dating site profiles for this new “run” I am about to go on, thinking about removing lines such as “I’m more interested in who you are than what you look like”… Damn! I liked that line. But it just doesn’t sound sincere anymore…
Oh my god! I’m becoming like every other guy, I just want a hot babe!
HELP ME! I’m losing my depth.
