To Want or Be Wanted...

whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...

They say that hope is sweeter than possession. Obviously whoever said that must either enjoy the sensation of pain or they have never really possessed anything worth holding on to. Now I don't know about you, but if I had the choice of either hoping for a pair of Jimmy Choos or possessing a pair of Jimmy Choos well... do I even have to answer that? So why is it when it comes to love, do I and many other women out there keep falling for the men we simply cannot have? And I'm not talking about celebrities here; I'm talking about real people; tangible, palpable people that you interact with on a daily, weekly or monthly basis. Oh sure, you say you're just friends but really... one of you or sometimes even both of you feel that extra little bit. And it's funny how that extra little bit can make things a whole lot more... complicated, that is.

Being on both sides of this predicament is a challenge, but not to up-play la douleur exquise, it's a hell of a lot harder being the want-er rather than the wanted. I know this because I've been both and while being the wanted is a great ego boost, it's not without its moments of awkward and feeling like an unintentional tease which is without a doubt the worst kind of tease there is. Either way, knowing that you are wanted is a power-trip as supposed to being the want-er where every moment spent talking to that person, being in that persons presence, feeling those feelings that you just can't help in the ends up making you feel pretty powerless. Right now I'm in the unique situation that I've found myself being both the want-er and the wanted. And I'll tell you right now; it sucks.

One of my ex's, let's call him "Vegas", has decided recently that he made a mistake when he broke things off... 2 years ago. He's come up with excuse after excuse about ending our relationship, and although I must admit I was heartbroken, it is also in the past. I picked up and moved on... apparently Vegas didn't get that memo. I stay in touch with him for old times sake, but I can't see myself with him again. I love him, but that kind of love is behind me and I have nowhere to go but forward. Vegas... well, despite attending a top-rated post-secondary institute in a challenging yet very rewarding program, cannot look to the future without being reminded of his past. Now, this is all very sad, but I am of the belief that both of us should not be made to suffer for his decision. The phone calls, the concerned looked, the drinks and conversations are all well and nice, but nothing is going to happen. In this case I am not the one that got away; I am the one he let go, therefore only he should live with that.

I don't mean to be an agace. I returned emails and phone calls out of politeness but more so curiosity. I have to admit it is always vindicating when an ex comes crawling back professing their stupidity and regret, but after a while the "I told you so" high fades and reality begins to sink in: that while this person may have toyed and crushed your emotions, that doesn't give you the right to toy with theirs. Unless they deserve it, but most of the time they don't. So how do you stop being wanted? You don't, that is not in your control. As it turns out, it's the want-er who has the power in this relationship.

Not to say that being the want-er is easier. Absolutely not. It is an exquisite pain, seemingly by choice to the outside viewer but really, internally, if I could stop wanting and re-gain my emotional posture, believe me I would, and sometimes I do. Sometimes everything is just fine and your relationship is neutral in a sense that it is so good it's bad. But then that person goes and does something that pulls at your heartstrings, or stirs up the feelings that just won't stay suppressed that I and many other of my girlfriends find ourselves tripping head over feet and landing smack on our ass.

There is this guy who is currently ma douleur exquise... let's call him "Paris", and has been for a long time. Our relationship didn't start that way; in fact it never does, but as hard as I tried I simply could not resist. It started out with the little things. A look here, a joke there... There was always something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on, and once circumstances changed it grew to a conversation here, a similarity there... and then it got even deeper. I've known Paris for a while now, and I don't know what it is about him, but he can literally see right through me. Unless I am actually clear as glass, to which then I reply "oh" but... he can. And it's scary; normally I have to be poked and prodded and BEGGED to talk and give information and whatnot to people I don't really know but with him... I literally have to hold my tongue and not talk to him on the phone because I feel as if I could talk to him forever... and I haven't felt like this about someone in a really long time.

But just like Paris, France; he's not exactly here and I am not exactly there. The worst thing is he straight up told me that if things were different then... well things would be different. The problem is, this happened a while ago. Like a WHILE ago, and I had thought I had moved on.

I mean, it was awkward as hell at first, but I refused to let it affect what was going on, despite everything. I guess it would have helped if he had been an asshole instead of being... himself. But eventually, or so I had believed, I got over it. Hell, I even started seeing other people and yet here I am, trying to run away from someone I'd much rather be as close to as possible and in every possible way.

It's funny how certain people can rope you back in just as you're about to escape. Now I'm not saying that I'd prefer being trapped, oh hell no. It's just... in this case I can't be let go, even when I want to. I know for a fact that he isn't the one; I need someone more my style and someone who will fit into my life rather than become it, or worse even make me change my life to become theirs; but I feel he is one. And I, as I'm sure almost everyone else, don't like knowing that something I want is something I can't have.. let alone having it in front of my face. My rational mind keeps telling me that it is for the best but seriously... it sucks.

So to answer the question, is it better to want or be wanted? No... they both suck.

Communication: A Dying Art?

I have to tell you something; but first I gotta figure out how...

I've been thinking about communication a lot lately... or moreso the lack of communication that seems to be happening. I know that people say, and these are really smart people so I guess I should listen to them, that communication is the cornerstone of any successful relationship, be it intimate, friendship, or colleague-ship, .. communication is key; except there are so many different forms of communication; verbal, written, body, spoken and unspoken, and lets not forget the telepathic conversations you can have with your girlfriends. And yet, with all the technologies and advances of the modern world, we can still manage to screw it all up. I mean, think about it; if you can't come up with a word to use you can google it; you can delete anything that doesn't sound correct (as I just did), check, double check and re-check to be sure that you say exactly what you want to, when you want to, and how you want to. So why is it that both men and women still claim lack of communication as the #1 downfall in marriages and relationships? I used to wonder if it was as simple as the different communication styles that men and women have... women like to talk and men like to do (no pun intended). But as the roles and expectations of men and women are blurred with every passing day, so do in a sense our communication styles.

I've had the pleasure, or should I say dis-pleasure seeing how that relationship ended, of dating a guy who was really into the whole "metro" thing. Don't get me wrong here; there are plenty of aspects about that kind of lifestyle that were purely beneficial for someone like me who was used to dating manly-jocks; he always looked good, dressed well without my help or insistence, took care of himself and was into communication, he enjoyed talking on the phone, having deeper conversations.. holding hands, cuddling and romantic dinners he cooked himself. You know, the "sensitive guy" we women always seem to want. At times it was like I was dating a chick, except not, as no matter how metro a guy gets he is still deep down a man which has its obvious benefits, or should I say necessities for an intimate relationship. He was still the main bug-killer, the one who'd reach for the stuff I needed off a tall shelf, the guy who'd install your shower-heads and fix your broken doors but still retained that sensitivity despite all these masculine activities.

The downside, or maybe up-side if you look at it another way, of dating a guy who's very much like a chick, is that you get to see first hand all the annoying tendencies and forms of communication we women tend to have or are stereotyped with when dating someone you really like; all the necroses that guys complain about; the neediness, the possessiveness, the insane bouts of jealousy, the hissy fits and crying to manipulation central... really ladies; the way we communicate sometimes is so NOT cool! I know that we don't mean to do it, and even when we do mean to do it because there are girls who do, we don't honestly understand the ramifications of our actions until, as the saying goes, it happens to us and the stiletto is on the other foot.

I used to refer to this as the "needy-chick syndrome", now known as the "needy-chick/needy-guy syndrome", which is kind of like domestication except for the fact that often one person takes this lifestyle choice a bit too far to the point where one persons' choice becomes the others obligation. It starts with the little things; one phone call a day becomes 2, becomes 3, becomes 4... a weekly sleepover on weekends becomes a nightly trek to one persons' apartment, and when you want to sleep by yourself in your bed he wants to come with you. A weekly lunch date during your 40s hours becomes an every day thing, even when you had breakfast with this person and will undoubtly have dinner with him and then go to bed with him. Nights out with your girl friends are met with resentment or "I'll come with you’s!" or "Meet me later" or even worse, met with nothing but silence... This NC/NG syndrome is a form of communication that I personally cannot STAND. It is communicating to your partner without actually communicating: you're telling them as supposed to discussing with them that hey, I don't just want you, I NEED you. At every possible moment of every possible day... and that is soo annoying. It is probably the worst possible form of communication because this kind of behaviour isn't conducive to compromise, as people tend to get defensive or worse, deny their actions and well, communication gets the kibosh and eventually so does the relationship.

Now of course, not every relationship ends like this, or at least that's what people keep telling me. But I can't help but be cynical or even a bit hesitant when it comes to my style of communication, and how well it meshes with the men I decide to date. I obviously could not communicate to "Philippe" how much his behaviour disturbed me, so how in the world am I supposed to communicate to whoever else comes along something just as important? I think the problem was that there was absolutely no communication between us; there was communication at me, but not so much with me and as soon as that started the relationship stopped... so I dumped the douche bag.

I think that in the end at the heart of any relationship lies communication; voluntary or involuntary. Whether it be spoken or unspoken, normal or bordering on the insane, male-or-female influenced, communication still makes or breaks a relationship... despite how good the sex is.

Domestication: Friend or Foe?

Is it better to be an undomestic diva or a domestic door-mat?

I've been discussing this disturbing trend with one of my new co-workers, a 20 something full-time office chick/part time student whom I've be-friended. We're both on the look-out for new wing-girls, you know, the girl friends who are always up for a night out dancing, boy-hunting and just plain fun. Not to say that our current girlfriends aren't fun anymore: quite the contrary, when we DO see them they are a blast. But herein lies the rub; we hardly ever see them anymore and when we do, they seem to have permanently attached themselves to their boyfriends hips.

On one hand, who can blame them? Being attached to someone's hip has its obvious benefits. As one of my girlfriends often says in her quest for a significant other, "Coupled people do not go out clubbing; they stay in and fuck." And when they do emerge from the bedroom, they are so immersed with each other they may have well just stayed in there. Other perks included in domesticdom are semi-permanent dinner dates, movie dates, someone to stay in with when the weather gets bad, and someone to accompany you on all those boring mudane tasks us single and fabulous (!) girls must do alone. So, from the outside looking in, domestication doesn't sound so awful.

However, and there is always a however, freedom-loving Manolo lites, including yours truly, can and have fallen into the domesticdom-trap. Anyone who has been in a relatively serious long-term monogamous relationship can attest to this: after a while you start to act, think and believe as an entirely different person, and from the inside looking out, things can get a bit foggy.

Last summer I found myself in a semi-serious relationship with a guy, lets call him "Phillipe", and sure as hell I found myself domesticated. I would sleep at this guys place almost every night, even though my apartment was on the street where I worked and his was across a bridge and often required 2 buses to get where I was going, not to mention losing the 45 extra minutes of beauty sleep I so thoroughly enjoy. And if that wasn't enough, after spending the night and morning with him he would meet me for lunch when clearly I should have been socializing with my girl friends, or at the very least a co-worker whom I've now developed full blown crush-affair with... hey, a girl's gotta have her priorities! And even after spending the morning with him, having lunch with him and talking to him on the phone, "Philippe' still managed to convince me to either spend the night as his aparment again or crash at mine, although his preference was obviously his place, despite the geographic proximity of our work-places to my apartment. If my behaviour was any indication, my girl friends must have been driven crazy! "Philippe" had managed to go from being my summer boyfriend to being my summer. Only now do I realize just how much I missed out on after falling into what I call the domestic-trap.

Looking back on this as I enter my summer in singledom, I can see the ups and downs of domestication. Sure, domesticdom has its perks, but myself and anyone else who has been in a long-term monogamous relationship has to be careful not to become a "domestic doormat", women (and men) who freely give up their individual lives to become one with another. As a freedom-loving Manolo-lite, I thought myself immune to such trickery, but "Philippe" and countless other men I know have successfully tamed some of the wildest women I know, including myself. I am talking about girls who under normal circumstances would hit on bars and boys for drinks and dances who now drop similar plans for a movie night pour deux... in other words, sans moi. The worst part is, I often find myself losing touch with these 'domestic doormats' in hopes to salvage what little social life I have left.

Not to say that their social lives are completely void, oh no. Their calendars are always free for 'couples nights', implying that if I want to see them I'd best get myself a boyfriend or at least someone I am casually dating to tag along for the ride... I guess I am simply not a fan of needing a boyfriend to hang out with my girlfriends.

Now, I know it is not fair or correct to couple all taken-girls into that one awful category. On the contrary; I know some pretty fabulous halves, women I like to call "domestic darlings". These girls are in monogamous relationships and spend quality time with their boyfriends/lovers/significant others. However, they have also mastered the art of having a life outside of their relationship.

Some of my girl friends, the very lucky ones, have boyfriends/lovers/significant others who encourage these girls to keep their social lives and their girlfriends, and when they join us for a night out they are never overbearing or controlling; in fact they are quite fun. One particular girl friend, lets call her "Angelica" and her fiance, let's call him "Joe" have perfected the art of having a lover AND having a life. I would even go as far as to say, it is the type of domestication a Manolo-lite like me wouldn't mind having. But as I said, this summer I've found myself a happy resident of singledom, meaning I'm a bit cynical... I'm hopefully enough to keep looking for a relationship like that, but I'm smart enough to realize that "Angelica" and "Joe" are the exception to the rule.

So what's a single (and fabulous!) gal to do when she's stuck between the singledom haven and domesticdom wonderland? I am not about to give up the freedom and spontaneity of singledom for the pleasures and stability of domestication... I just hate the fact that so many of us have to chose between one or the other.

Brains versus Beauty...

Since when did we have to choose?

I have been asking myself lately, among other things, if there really are women in this world whos sole purpose is to make us feel bad about ourselves? The only answer I have been able to come up with is "maybe", but recently I have been encountering women whos sole purpose in life is making me question mine.

As far as I am concerned, a defining characteristic of the modern Manolo-female is her intelligence. In fact, these days you are more likely to encounter a female on a university campus than a male and soon enough, most of us will be working for a modern Manolo-female instead of a male. On the outside she appears to have it all: an intelligent mind to match her sexy body and she remains what us twenty-something Manolo-lites are striving to be not only for ourselves but for men as well. I was under the impression that smart was sexy; but why then, given the choice of a smart, sexy Manolo-lite, do some men still prefer the pretty little airhead immortalized by the likes of Pamela Anderson and Jessica Simpson? It seems to me that although the modern man professes the desire for a competent, ambitious and driven woman, he continues to prefer the company of a scatterbrained, yet gorgeous female. I can't help but wonder why, when given the choice between sexy and smart and just sexy... why do men still go for just sexy?

I have a friend, let's call her "Daisy", who embodies the definition of the "Just Sexy" female. She is tall, skinny, blonde, beautiful, and has the habit of saying the most mindblowingly odd things you could possibly imagine. Although carefree and charismatic, her knowledge of current events, street smarts, common sense and educational topic of choice is not her forte. And yet, for one reason or another that I have yet to figure out, she manages to have four men, four really great men gravel at her feet and answer her every beck and call. So why is that?

According to askmen.com, modern men should raise their personal standards and expectations in their search for the perfect girlfriend. She should be smart, sexy, sweet, ambitious, self-reliant, independent and mature; the kind of woman you would find at a library, museam or cultural event but who is not adverse to the odd sporting event and a pitcher or two of beer. However, despite the aformentioned qualities deemed necessary in a female, these so called modern men still flock towards the young, fun and intellectually numb women they find at the bars, the clubs, the malls or wherever else they congregate in mass numbers. So why is that we, as Manolo-lites are told to be smart, sexy, sweet, ambitious, self-reliant, independent and mature when the hot, fun, scatterbrained girls are attracting and getting all the guys?

Now I am not saying that my friend is stupid. On the contrary, she is actually quite clever. She has everything a Manolo-lite wants without all of that hard work. And although this situation is quite frustrating, fear not my lovely Manolo-lites: there is a gold lining to this charade. The way I see it is, whatever man, modern or not, who would lower his expectations in a woman for the moment is doing just that: for the moment, which leaves us with the men who appreciate brains in a partner just as much as beauty. As annoying as it is to watch every available guy at the bar gravitate towards your pretty clueless girl friend, true Manolo-lites shouldn't waste our time with men who can't handle our minds as well as they can handle our bodies, nor should we settle for one or the other. The "Just Sexy" female gets them easily, but nothing worth having comes easy.

So, on behalf of all Manolo-lites, I would like to thank all the "Just Sexy" females. Next time you and your girl friends are out on the town and your "Just Sexy" friend is getting the most attention, remember this: think of her as your Darwinian card: by attracting and being naturally selected by the low-riding men who are looking for either a trophy or a good time but not necessarily a long time, allow the good, intellectually superior females to find the good, intellectually superior males who require a higher form of stimulation than a pretty face, a nice rack and a gullible yet trusting mind. They just make our search simpler by weeding out the population of men better suited to a "Just Sexy" female versus men better suited to a Manolo-lite. So yes, maybe there are women out there whos sole purpose in life is to make us question ourselves... but only for the moment.

No love...actually.

When the love ends but the relationship unfortunately doesn't...

When it comes to relationships, a bit of give and take and the all-mighty compromise is necessary for its survival. Some relationships are meant to be and others start out great but eventually fizzle out and end for one reason or another. We've all heard of lingering emotions after an official breakup, but who has heard of a lingering relationship?

I was once in a relationship for approx 1 and a half months. It was long distance with someone whom we'll call "Ben". I had met "Ben" through a mutual friend. He seemed decent enough but as things changed I found myself unable to balance school, work, social and personal time with him being 200 clicks away. The latter half of month 2 was spent trying to break things off as I figured breaking this off early would spare us both the time, money and heartache that comes with a long distance relationship. Unfortunately for me "Ben" just didn't get it. When I finally managed to break things off "Ben" still didn't get it. Then came the calls and the emails. I reiterated my stance that no, we are not going to get back together despite his insistance that in 2 weeks I would come crawling back.

Well, 2 weeks passed and not only did I not come crawling back, I started seeing someone that I really liked. Of course "Ben" learned of this and you guessed it! He still didn't get it. Then came the note taped secretly to the back of a favourite cd he had kept hostage followed by a visit to my brother asking for a second chance with me.

At this point I had had enough. A 2 month relationship was being elongated against my will for over 7 months after the fact. If I said "no" the first time, what makes you think that I will say "yes" the millionth time? When a former significant other, be it a boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife, for no matter how long you have been together tells you "I don't want to be with you" or "This is not going to work" it does NOT and I repeat does NOT mean "Try harder". It does not mean keep calling or emailing trying to convince your ex otherwise. That is not called love. That is called manipulation.

Now, this is something that everyone I know, including myself, is guilty of. We've all called or emailed an ex once or twice asking them for a second chance, but usually, normally, when the calls are not answered, the emails are sent back and the belongings are returned, you give up. You move on. You realize that no matter what you do or say this person is not going to change their mind. When you think about it, if you have to manipulate, trick or force someone to love you and to stay with you... then maybe its not right. Nobody likes having their free will messed with, especially concerning something so important as an intimate relationship. "Ben" refused to believe or listen to anyone but himself when it came to our dead relationship. Instead of accepting the facts, which were might I add right in front of his face, he chose to argue his way through and push his opinion upon myself, my friends and my family.

Now, maybe we all didn't learn the same things in kindergarden, but throwing a hissy fit will not get you what you want. If you even have to throw a hissy fit instead of maturely accepting your former significant others wishes, with time of course, then the question remains: is this ending a result of non-compatability or non-compliance? Is he or she not giving you what you need or what you want? Instead of trying to force someone into agreeing with what you feel is right, if you have to force someone to comply with what you feel is best then you know what? The relationship is already over. If one person is making all of the decisions without respect or consideration for the others feelings or opinions then you're not even in a relationship. No sense in trying to convince someone into remaining in something that is actually nothing.

The Nice Guy...

Is there really hidden treasure buried underneath the guys you call "friends"?

I recently caught myself saying those words that every twenty-something girl says to her friends when faced with a surprisingly common problem. It is something I am sure every woman in her life has said to her friends, her family, or even her boyfriend to describe a "nice guy" in her life. Those words are "we're just friends". The problem is I found myself rejecting a great guy, a co-worker actually, simply because we are, in my opinion "just friends". Unfortunately I found out that I was wrong.

Twenty-something girls, at least us "Manolo lights", seem to be doing this all backwards. We are attracting the "nice guys", the guys who call you when they say they will, who talk to your face on a date instead of your chest, who buy you coffee or lunch without expecting a glorious make-out session afterwards that he can brag about to his buddies or anyone who will listen. They are cute, kind and oh so available. The kind of guys who will go shopping with you without complaining, who don't care if you answer the door in sweats, who see you for who you are and love you regardless. And in return, we label them as our "friends" and run to them when the assholes we actually date show their true colours. But for some reason we don't want them. They are the kind of guys we love to hang out with, but we don't hang out with them because we love them. No... We hang out with them because "we're just friends".Why do we do that? Why don't we date the nice guys?

The rationales I've heard over the years are as follows: "... Don't want to ruin our friendship" ... "It would be too weird..." "He is like a brother to me..." and so forth. It's as if twenty something girls and guys would rather have their hearts broken by the toxic players than date a "nice guy" or a "nice girl", yet claim to want exactly what the "nice guys/girls" are. Why are we looking for that special someone who is right in front of our faces? Why are we unwilling to take a chance on a "nice guy"?

They say that "nice guys finish last" and you know what, they do. "Nice guys" don't take as many chances with women, be they "Manolo-females" or "Manolo lights" as the toxic players and even when they do they're labeled as our "friends". They finish last because they put themselves last and in turn, we put them last too. As much as we want a "nice guy"... we don't. Or at least that is the message we are sending our "nice guys"; that if you want us, stop being nice. Then there really would be no nice guys left. But they don't stop. Real "nice guys" remain "nice guys", even when faced with rejection. Maybe one day, they think, we'll realize that although our "nice guy" is good as a friend, he's even better as a lover. That he may not be what we are looking for at the moment, but if given a chance he just might be?

My co-worker is the classic "nice guy". He has a successful career, his own place and fantastic ambitions. He is funny, kind and really sweet. I'd be hard pressed to describe him without calling him a "nice guy" because that is exactly what he is. However, I just can't get myself to like him as anything more than as a friend. Why, when faced with a perfectly wonderful guy whom my girl friends would date in a second, I can't because he has that "just friends" label and I end up doing nothing. I know that this particular "nice guy" would treat me like a princess, I just can't get over that "nice guy" hump.

Maybe "nice guys" are destined to always finish last. I wonder if I'll ever be able to say that my "nice guy" finished last because he makes sure I finish first.