Guys are such jerks.
At least those I dated. I always seem to attract the bad ones. I am a pretty girl, standing at 172m, a part-time model and known to have flawless skin. So why is it that the guys I have dated are all jerks? I admit that I have my own set of criteria and standards when it comes to dating. He must be taller than me, built body and good looking.
It took me years of dating to abolish my criteria.
The guys I dated? Horrible! I have heard things like I shouldn’t eat so much or else I will get fat. This was during my birthday, we went for a buffet and when he saw how much I was eating, he said ‘Didn’t know you can eat so much.
But you shouldn’t or else you will become fat. Why not just eat the salad?’ I rolled my eyes, I was happy and I have a hearty appetite when I am happy. Duh. Another one only wants me to wear skirts, dresses or tank tops when with him, because jeans and tee are too unfeminine. Then there’s the one who would cancel all plans we made if ever I went to meet him without make-up. He would literally drag me to Sephora or whatever make-up store and buy for me on the spot. Hello? I have flawless skin, I don’t need constant make-up to feel beautiful. And this other one who constantly had s on his mind, always pawing me here and there.
So the above all are bad enough right? This takes the cake. We were on vacation and at a crowded swimming pool, when he said to me, very loudly ‘You know what? You should get implants’. Kid you not. He said that in front of so many people. I was so humiliated and embarrassed.
I am a good C cup, why on earth do I need implants?!
I am 27, tired of dating all the wrong guys. I see a few of my friends in happy, stable relationships and get all envious. I just want someone who can love and embrace me for who I am.
Doesn’t mind that I eat a lot when I am happy, lets me wear whatever I want, loves me even with no make-up on, respects me and treats me as his equal. At this point, looks don’t even matter, as long as we get along and sparks happen, then that’s good.
But where are you, my Mr. Right?