I just want to be friends
“Wary of what this married guy wanted she typed back cautiously to him, trying her hardest to sound neutral so he wouldn’t sniff out her emotional and vulnerable availability. She had been single for a long time because of her last relationship, which ended horribly, and she didn’t want to repeat it.
What the fuck did he want? Don’t married guys have women already?”
I don’t pretend to know what goes on in a woman’s mind but I assume it’s something like the above when someone like me approaches them and tries to wiggle their way into the friendzone.
I like women. That’s all. I want to be friends; is there anything wrong with that?
I know myself. I know the people that I’m going to get on with like a house on fire and I also know the people that I need to stay well clear from. I generally get that idea within the first few moments of talking to people, men and women. I connect better with women because I’m an emotionally available man — I’m not scared of my emotions nor am I afraid to be accountable for them. The problem with this is men are always on the prey and women are forever on the defensive. I sort of have an idea what it’s like. I’ve been out a few times with some super attractive females, as friends, and watched as the offers would come rolling in.
It’s not easy being a woman. Especially when you have to be on your guard.
I get it, when you’re young and naive it’s nice to have somewhat added attention when you’re out, it makes you feel special, it makes you feel important, or at least it did me, being a man that received more attention than his friends in my younger years. There comes a point when it just gets tiresome though. When you’ve walked the walk, and talked the talk and by now you’re confident enough to do your own selecting that these ‘hindrances’ just get in the fucking way.
Along comes Married Joe and wants to be your friend — what’s his angle? There’s always an angle. With men, there’s never ‘just friends’
See, this is where my gender has it wrong. I continually lose out on friendships with some awesome women because of the way they have been treated in the past. The friendzone is for creepy dudes that hang out with you and secretly want to fuck you; or there’s at least some play involved.
Men are visual, there’s no doubt about it. We are aroused by visual stimuli and unfortunately because most of us aren’t emotionally in tune with ourselves we tend to get mixed up between friendship and relationship. We get visually aroused by our would-be women friends. Not all men, but a damn lot of them. It’s a direct result of emotional immaturity, when all we want to do is shag pretty girls.
It’s a shame for men like me, I feel I’m continually battling an uphill struggle of exes, predators, and people that have hung in the friendzone with ulterior motives; some men just want to get to know you, laugh with you, cry with you; just be a good damn friend.
I’d love to write a course for men — How to be emotionally available with proper boundaries around your friends. I think it may take off. It’s a start, anyway. Something needs to be done. I keep banging on about the Victorian era and how much of a reverse effect it has had on society today. Fathers beating their sons for showing a hint of any emotion, and on the other shoe, women mistaking a man’s emotional maturity for an interest.
Ah, that’s another thing. Because men aren’t usually open and honest with others then sometimes just showing a hint of compassion to another female can have them having the wrong idea, that there’s an interest when there isn’t. An emotionally available man needs to be guarded too, but that’s a story for another time, a different chapter of another book.
For men, knowing yourself helps. Knowing who you would get on well with and knowing what types of people would act like a poisonous cloud over your head, waiting to strike at any moment. How do you know yourself though? My Mum asked me that exact question two days ago.
“Raymond, how do I find myself?”
She’s in her 60’s
I’ve never known her to have any male friends in all her life. Well, she did have one and then he disgusted her by getting drunk and then hitting on her — see a trend here, men? It’s why it’s so hard with me to connect with other women, especially survivors, who, unfortunately, are my favourite type of people, being one myself.
Time to grow up men.
Time to stop objectifying women; time to see the personalities behind those slim legs, big boobs and pretty faces. Time to see that women are definitely people too, and women, like men, want to make friends too; but ultimately, we fuck that up for ourselves. Just ask any woman, ask her how many of her male friends were actually friends in the end, ask her how many of her male friends haven’t hit on her in the past.
And we wonder why women are spent? Tired of our bullshit? Come now, let’s start healing the bullshit together, and stop thinking with our penises, or at least realise that there’s more to us men than our cocks; something women need to realise too, but again, that’s a story for another day.