How Low Will You Go?

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Prince Charmings, Hollywood happy endings , and the perfect pairing of Barbie and Ken are all to blame. They form our expectations and set the standards on the kind of story, relationship, and men we want to have in our lives.

These tales of a prince from another castle and how his kiss awaken a princess from a long sleep and guys desperately running after a girl he decided to let go just to catch her right before she boards a plane and other bone-tickling stories all make us giddy. And yes, it all makes us want to feel that someone could be that desperate for us.



We spend days and nights dreaming and daydreaming of the day we get to be chased and we get to be kissed and we get to be begged to stay.

Then life happens... men happen... jerk men happen... and bullshit, a lot of bullshit, happen.


That guy that used to make us feel like there are butterflies in our stomach start transforming into a mega asshole with an unbelievable superpower to say the right thing at the right time only to do the wrong thing all of the time. Before we know it, our hearts are beaten up so bad, the punching bag of Manny Pacquiao would be put to shame.

Then, we meet that guy who efficiently and patiently helps us fix our hearts… only for him to turn out to be a damn useless pig with an ambition smaller than his balls.

Several more guys come and go… each with either an unbearable amount of insensitivity or amazing level of stupidity.

I am not saying guys are the only ones to blame. It is the decisions we make that put us in the situations we end up in. We accept the kind of love we think we deserve and we stay in the relationship we think we should be in.

But it doesn’t change the fact that every tear and every pain, no matter how markedly unreasonable and unnecessary, change us. It changes the way we look at things, it changes what we expect of life, and it sure as hell changes the kind of guy we go for or relationships we enter in some way, at least.

Before we know it, we realize that Prince Charming is not real and Hollywood is filled with badly written scripts acted by talentless actors being coached by clueless directors. We suddenly realize that there is a huge difference between fantasy and reality. Unfortunately, the latter is where we are dwelling in.

We change our standards to what is possible, attainable, and real. We stop waiting for a Prince that is destined to rule a castle. We stop waiting for a successful or famous guy to run after us when we leave and scream to the world every little we do that they love while he is drenched in rain and our mascara miraculously stay in place.

Slowly, we accept that guys are polygamous, some emotionally, some physically.

Slowly, we accept that guys are incapable of knowing anything we don’t verbally declare. 

Slowly, we accept that guys are just natural stupid jerks but they don’t mean it.

Slowly, we accept that there are very few men left that are willing or able to pay for dates or open doors for us or pull chairs for us.

Experiences teach us that. Heartaches teach us that. Memories teach us that.

The damn question is… how low should our standards really go?

Should it at all?

 

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