earthshyne
Senior Don Juan
Once upon a time, a long long time ago, there was a man who decided that if he was pleasant, polite, treated women with respect and always held the door open for them and so forth, he would be loved and respected. To further understand the female gender, he read books about feelings, he learned how to cry, he watched WTN and every movie with Julia Roberts in it. He got in touch with his feminine side. Though never remotely homosexual, he began to see men in a different light, too. He saw his old personality reflected in the men around him.
He evolved into a SNAG – Sensitive New Age Guy
He started to develop an appreciation for Oprah – after all, she’s rich beyond avarice – and would read Maya Anjelou poems.
He shunned most sports, except baseball. He took his ladyfriends to cultural events, like the symphony, the art gallery, and went for long walks with them through the woods or on a beach.
He was gentle. He was kind. He was caring.
He listened to their troubles. He supplied them with warm blankets when they were depressed or were having their periods. He helped them in any way he could
When a woman treated him poorly, he excused their behaviour. “Maybe I did something wrong. Maybe she’s just not feeling well. Or maybe I could have handled the situation better.” But he always gave her the benefit of the doubt.
Occasionally, he would notice that women would take little stabs at him. They would drop a line about “backbone” or “weakness”. They would sometimes laugh at him. But he knew better. He knew, in his hearts of hearts, that they were just laughing or being nasty because they liked him around.
He began, however, to notice a pattern. As he got closer to some of his ladyfriends, he would attempt a romantic advance, only to be rejected.
And the rejections came hard. They came fast. They came furiously. They flowed over him and around him, a Niagara of denials. They bruised his muscles and scorched his skin. They glared in his eyes and pierced his ears.
He hurt. As a matter of fact, the pain became so intense that he pondered suicide for a short time.
Finally, in a moment of frustration, he remembered the adage that if you don’t like what you’re getting, then change what you’re doing.
He took his power back. He began to strenghten his spine. He said no. He began meeting new people, men and women who respected his character. His attitude changed from one of pleasant compliance to forceful vigour. He would still, of course, be respectful and kind, but he would no longer try to play the game according to the women’s rules.
To his utter astonishment, it worked.
Men respected him. Women were attracted to him. He had the pleasure of meeting, intimately, a great number of very fine women. He developed relationships with some of them, although the “L” word was never an issue. He even got to know some interesting personalities in the “adult” entertainment industry, stunning women who were funny, smart, powerful and rich. Their career choice did not appeal to him that much, but they were fun to be around.
Now, his only regrets were the years – decades, in fact – he wasted in trying to play a man’s game using women’s rules.
From SNAG to success.
This, my friends, is an absolutely true story.
He evolved into a SNAG – Sensitive New Age Guy
He started to develop an appreciation for Oprah – after all, she’s rich beyond avarice – and would read Maya Anjelou poems.
He shunned most sports, except baseball. He took his ladyfriends to cultural events, like the symphony, the art gallery, and went for long walks with them through the woods or on a beach.
He was gentle. He was kind. He was caring.
He listened to their troubles. He supplied them with warm blankets when they were depressed or were having their periods. He helped them in any way he could
When a woman treated him poorly, he excused their behaviour. “Maybe I did something wrong. Maybe she’s just not feeling well. Or maybe I could have handled the situation better.” But he always gave her the benefit of the doubt.
Occasionally, he would notice that women would take little stabs at him. They would drop a line about “backbone” or “weakness”. They would sometimes laugh at him. But he knew better. He knew, in his hearts of hearts, that they were just laughing or being nasty because they liked him around.
He began, however, to notice a pattern. As he got closer to some of his ladyfriends, he would attempt a romantic advance, only to be rejected.
And the rejections came hard. They came fast. They came furiously. They flowed over him and around him, a Niagara of denials. They bruised his muscles and scorched his skin. They glared in his eyes and pierced his ears.
He hurt. As a matter of fact, the pain became so intense that he pondered suicide for a short time.
Finally, in a moment of frustration, he remembered the adage that if you don’t like what you’re getting, then change what you’re doing.
He took his power back. He began to strenghten his spine. He said no. He began meeting new people, men and women who respected his character. His attitude changed from one of pleasant compliance to forceful vigour. He would still, of course, be respectful and kind, but he would no longer try to play the game according to the women’s rules.
To his utter astonishment, it worked.
Men respected him. Women were attracted to him. He had the pleasure of meeting, intimately, a great number of very fine women. He developed relationships with some of them, although the “L” word was never an issue. He even got to know some interesting personalities in the “adult” entertainment industry, stunning women who were funny, smart, powerful and rich. Their career choice did not appeal to him that much, but they were fun to be around.
Now, his only regrets were the years – decades, in fact – he wasted in trying to play a man’s game using women’s rules.
From SNAG to success.
This, my friends, is an absolutely true story.
