“My ideal bloke should be strikingly handsome, he should have ‘abs’ to hold onto, he should be a faithful, Godly man with a good sense of humour, and oh, most of all he should be independent!”
Says a girl whose heart had been broken once before.
Ladies, I know every one of us has their concocted depiction of their perfect man, their ideal chap, their own masterpiece, their own Adonis, their true god of Luurve!
The one who overpowers us with his passion, makes it happen EVERY time AND knows how to do the dishes, cook, clean, change diapers etc etc.
Yes you want that one too, admit it!
But how many frogs does a girl need to kiss before she locks lips with her Prince?
I also know that men have heard women’s prognostications, each with their own elongated list of ideals… I mean, you do that too, don’t you?
But we women talk, alot, it’s true, I hate to admit that even I have a picture of my own ideal man (at the back of my mind)…Every Queen needs a King, right!
Well, this broken-hearted girl refuses to settle for less, she refuses to accept that her ideal might not even exist, “I shall wait for my MR RIGHT,” she mutters. And still she waits like a crispy dry plant waits for the Namib rain that never comes.
A wise man once told me that waiting for a perfect man is like waiting for hell to freeze over… It is futile as dusting!
As I mentally moulded my perfect man and fused him with the passion in my belly, what did I go and do?
I fell for a lad who I THOUGHT was the one! I have hit the jackpot! I have made it in life as some of you say… I desired him, I craved for him, I lusted for him and so I assumed that he also felt the same way as me.
I fell for him like how I love chilli bites with animal passion. To cut the story short, and spare your blushes it all went down the toilet, my school girl blushes were lost in its flushes. So there I was, just another notch on some boy’s bed post.
It vanished. The ideals had fooled me; it became apparent that what you see is not precisely, what you will get. My make-believe man disappeared, along with my list of ideal man’s ideal attributes.
What went wrong you might ask?
Nothing that shocking apart from a woman with imprudent ideas that shaping a man is possible, even desirable, of course, I had impudently allowed myself to believe that I was getting what I thought I saw, a manly hunk to love me and care for me. I wonder what he thought he was getting?
Therefore, dear reader, what did I LEARN:
- people always give you the flank they want you to view, just for that time
- they will feed you with what you want to eat and then, when it all goes ‘belly up’ you conclude inevitably… “He’s using me, while you are lying to yourself”
- Ideals are just a way to escape reality, the mediocrity that is reality.
And so, the joke is on me for trying to be an architect of a human. How one could shape and expect perfection! I had to look at myself and shake it all off to move on!
Am I omniscient somehow, am I a God? Why do I need a perfect man, why do I want perfection when I am not even perfect myself? I went my own way and I messed up, but how can I do better next time?
Here is my truth:
An ideal spouse doesn’t exist. Just like how the Tooth Fairy doesn’t… Or the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus (sorry kids it’s true)
Maybe these are all bright eyed assumptions that we ought to believe, like when a boy tells you you can’t get pregnant your first time, or by doing it standing up (he told you that one too?) Mmhmm.
Fairy tales that we keep visualizing and recycling from generation to generation. I am guilty with apologies, shamefaced for doing exactly what men do, trying covertly to rule a man, remodelling him into my own flawless image. I was guilty when I formed the idea of an ideal man in my head.
Why would I change him, or even attempt finding him and why do I then judge with contempt all the ordinarily moderate and thoroughly normal, decent men I see all around me? As if I was so perfect myself! I’m bad, I need to be beaten (guys, that is NOT an invitation, step back nasty boys!)
I guess what I’m trying to say is that nobody can be ideal, nobody can be the full package, both men and women are a work in progress, we were born with flaws, all of us! These ideals could easily corrupt our minds as we embark on the journey of life together with our poor unsuspecting spouses because, with all our searching, probing, yearning and lusting… next thing you see, you are in your late forties, STILL waiting for your ideal.
Well, after my long list of ideal men, I have flushed that down the drain! I now have a new conviction:
Settle for the achievable ⇒ Lower your guard a little ⇒ Never judge by first impressions ⇒Learn to compromise ⇒You are a work in progress ⇒ Learn to compromise!
This is a matter of perfection versus the beautifully mediocre!
Girls! Settle for the achievable, drop the outrageous targets or have no mate at all.
Mr Second Best comes after Mr IDEAL (in my girly dreams) and he might just be the best thing that ever happened, given half a chance. And he’s certainly better than Mr Nobody! And Mr Second Best might just become Mr Wow!
Mr Ideal will never happen because he does NOT EXIST…you heard it here first, girl.
One could still find a dapper, comely and Godly, clean-cut person out there only if we could judge less, or we could lose at our own game, forever running around from one person to the next. Better to find a man who loves the Lord and his mum and knows his way around a woman’s heart, body and soul.
Many women will try to change their men and men try changing their women, but the chances are high of becoming flipping control freaks. Who needs shenanigans in their lives? Not me. Don’t shape her, don’t change him, compromise, or move along. Let the Lord change us both.
People have work to do. People need to be free…sorry Mr First guy!
But that’s just my take on this, over to you, readers…
©Lady Twiiti 2017