I may not seem like it, but I’m pretty handy.
And strong, like physically.
I think I would have fit right in to the mystical Amazonian tribe of women.
I’m just slightly taller than the average woman, 5’5 and my body is naturally sturdy, slightly thicker than average. I’m not a huge girl, but I’m not dainty either.
I sort of tower over the women in my life, both in personality and presence.
Ever met or see a woman that seems to walk to the beat of her own drum, the type that exudes this calm, self-assured confidence that screams “I don’t give a fuck”?
I might be one of them.
Men typically don’t know what to do with me.
Because really, I don’t need a man.
Not even to open up my jars.
I put together most of the furniture in my apartment.
I have these two 7ft tall bookcases from Ikea that I loaded into my truck, unloaded, carried upstairs and put together, all by myself.
The bookshelves are about 60lbs each and came in long, rectangular boxes.
I also unloaded and carried my 70lb desk (which also came in a box) upstairs and put that together as well.
I was fortunate that my dining set was delivered to my door in a huge, heavy ass box which I then pushed inside my apartment and put together, also all by myself.
I have other furniture that I’ve carried and assembled myself, but these are the most noteworthy so far.
Heterosexual women are my biggest fans.
They find me the most attractive, approachable, easy to trust and talk to. Women who I’ve never met have struck up conversations with me and I’ve been told countless secrets that had never seen the light of day before that. My female friends tend to admire me and the fearless, balls out way that I live my life in that I’m not afraid to do shit alone and take risks.
They also appreciate my confidence and the way I pep talk them to not to give a fuck about what other people think or say. I also get lots of compliments from them about my style, the way I dress and how girly I can be because even though I’m an Amazonian, I love me makeup and dresses.
You would think I’d be swimming in men given all my fantastic traits (sarcasm here) but like I said, I think I’m intimidating to them.
Fuck, sometimes I intimidate my own father. That says something, right?
My mom was describing me and my sister’s to us once, saying how we should carry ourselves because of how we come across to strangers. She said that a robber/rapist/general bad guy would see my sisters alone and think “this will be easy” and have their way with them, but that same said bad guy would see me alone and think twice because I look scary until I start talking (her exact words). My interpretation: I look intimidating until someone talks to me and realizes I’m a sweetheart 😉 Ha, ha!
What is it about me? It’s not like I walk around with a scowl on my face. I look people in the eye and smile. I have manners. I’m quiet and patient, observing things that others might not be aware of. I pay attention.
But there’s nothing cute or petite or waif-like about me.
I don’t need saving. I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do.
I don’t need a leader. I’m my own fucking leader.
Hmmm…maybe that’s it…
Basically, I need someone with a lot of confidence (read cocky does not equal confidence) who is just as secure in himself and doesn’t want a subordinate but also doesn’t want a second mommy either.
I’m an equal. I need someone that’s okay with that. No, actually I need someone who wants and appreciates that. And finds it motherfucking sexy!
I don’t want to be in charge. I’m not a control freak who likes to bust balls for fun. I want a partner, in every sense of the way.
Because once I know I have an equal, it makes me feel secure to indulge my natural desire to take care of them because I know it won’t be taken for granted or expected that it’s my “role” or job to do so.
It’ll be known that I do it because I want to, as my love language.
Too bad WordPress isn’t a dating site, I think this would be a good dating profile.
Eh, but even then I’d still probably get offers for “freaky fun with a younger man” or asked if I want to date a couple…