Before I start this article I personally love men, god that sounds like I am about to get out my gun and say something vile. I am not. I have masses of friends and they are usually all men.
Of course some men hate many things, the biggest one being commitment. I understand. I feel easily trapped between a pram and a Wholefood trolley, and there is nothing worse for me than feeling restricted, that I cannot type all night, and having to kiss someone I am supposed to fancy.
I actually find few men who do not wish to commit but sadly I am the one who likes to keep all options open, so I know what a man must feel like too. There are some men who say they are always looking for something better, someone who behaves like a whore but has a soul with his mother. A very difficult combination. They will often cheat, because why not, until a ring is on the finger why would it be wrong? I feel the same way. I sort of want a passionate story to end with a ring, all the passion and a dress together.
There are of course men and women who are totally taken in by their other halves, who buckle under the whip and do not look anywhere but adoringly at their desire.
I cannot, the minute I feel like someone is keen I will make sure that they no longer look at me the same way.
I am very female, I cry when in love, I bore my friends to death about every movement of my hearts desire, but if put in a corner, I am a vicious rat waiting to pounce. If a ring is pushed onto my finger, it feels like it is strangling my flesh and I get the vapours.
I start to loathe the smell of the man, it really turns me off.
This morning I discussed this with a friend and they suggested I should see a therapist. It feels alien to go and talk about something to a complete stranger, so I shall leave it in the lap of the gods and read a good book instead. Some things are just too tricky to change.