Where are all the good men? Paballo Molahlehi wonders why women fall under pressure of giving sex to possibly find
love.
"Be careful out there. There will be boys who try to mislead you with exaggerated notions of love when the majority is only interested in one thing."
My late father imparted that knowledge on me after he’d
stumbled upon a love letter his ten-year-old daughter had
written to her crush.
Naturally, I hadn’t the faintest idea what he was on about at
the time, but for some reason, not once did I ever forget
those words. And of course, with growth I came to realize
their value.
Now, as a black woman in my mid-20s, I find myself being
forced to relive his words as I try to find myself in a time of
insatiable lust.
In a time where women are discarded for not relinquishing
what is colloquially referred to as "the cookie"; 'small boys'
with entitlement issues will lay on the guilt trip so thick that
you end up being overly critical of yourself for not being
"easy".
I’ve had to defend myself to guys who felt slighted that I
dared starve them of my vagina when they could just as
easily get it elsewhere, but opted for mine instead.
One even had the gall to accuse me of being petty! And as a
young woman with traditional values (well, somewhat), it
horrifies me to think that this is the quality of man that will
raise our sons.
Not taking anything away from the decent men, I do believe
that they still exist. And maybe I’m naïve for believing that
love and lust can coexist in an era that’s bordering more
towards the latter.
My belief, however, was almost shattered a few months ago
when a dapper gentleman lost his cool and told me I was
being irrational for not letting him penetrate me in the
backseat of his car. I wasn’t going to let him have sex with
me, period. We weren’t even exclusive.
Reflecting on it now, I suppose I should be grateful that he
was cordial enough to take me back home instead of
ditching me in a remote dump somewhere.
Things could’ve gone completely south – he could’ve chosen
to violate me after realizing his courteous attempts failed
dismally. In spite of this, a part of me anticipated an
apologetic phone call the next day.
I convinced myself that once he’d recovered from his
erection, he’d realize that his feelings for me weren’t
shallow. Of course that didn’t happen.
If that’s how a woman is treated for being honorable then I
shudder to think what women who apply the opposite have
to deal with.
Perhaps my rant would carry more weight if us women
weren’t partially responsible for how some of us are treated
by men. We’ve made ourselves so accessible that men just
don’t feel it necessary to work hard for our interest
anymore. For some of them, being committed seems
redundant. We’re just not worth it.
The media isn’t helping either (well, does it ever?). We’re
made to feel emancipated for being promiscuous. Curse
you, Sex and the City!
My concern is the inherent fear of the many women
scorned, that the tale of “the good guy” might as well be
fiction.
It’s becoming much harder for women to be involved with a
man without having to compromise ourselves in some way;
and because we are so desperate for acceptance and to be
desired (desperate for anything that’s remotely close to
affection, really), we give in to every subtle coercion by
every hairy dick named Tom.
Perhaps love hasn’t become difficult to find because we
ceased to demand it as a prerequisite. Perhaps it’s become
difficult to find because we’ve stopped nurturing it within
ourselves.
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