Fabrizio del Wrongo writes:
This article got me thinking: Where relationships are concerned, is it possible that women are bigger fantasists than men? I’ve known quite a few gals who seemed to construct fantasies around me — that I was some kind of struggling artist, a soon-to-be significant person, a just-waiting-to-be-ultra-successful guy who had been held back by bad luck or lack of direction, and so forth. Apparently this was more fulfilling than facing the fact that I’m just a normal schlub who likes to relax, listen to old Gang of Four records, and have his balls played with once in a while. Over the years I’ve learned that you should never try to deflate a gal’s fantasies, especially the ones concerning you.Β She’ll just stop playing with your balls. Like Fox Mulder, girls want to believe. So maybe we should let them? For what it’s worth, I think gals want guys to fantasize about them as well. I once made the mistake of suggesting to a girlfriend that she quit stressing about school and her career, find a decent job she could tolerate, and just enjoy life for what it is — by which I meant a chance to have lots and lots of sex with me. After all, she wasn’t likely to figure out cold fusion or re-discover penicillin, so why get hung up on all of this approval-seeking shit? I might as well have told her that I hadn’t voted in the last presidential election (I hadn’t). She never looked at me in the same way again.
I guess that everyone falls in love with an illusion, and maybe we’re happier when we can retain those illusions, untrue though they may be. Perhaps the truth is not an unalloyed good, in some cases.
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Personally, I don’t care for having my balls played with. That’s what I have a cock for.
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At a certain point (long ago, back during my single/dating years) I decided to stop fighting the projections g.f.’s were casting on me and just let them fantasize away. Why interfere? Got laid a lot more once I made that change. Of course, the galz also went twice as berserk once they woke up to the sad reality of me, but what the hell.
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A woman told my mom that the fact I was born on Christmas Day meant I was destined for very great and important things. She was so right; I’ve become a superstar blogger / commenter! π
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These fantasies women have about men aren’t really about the men, they’re about the women themselves. She wants to believe that she’s really a princess and you’re her Prince Charming. She doesn’t want to believe that you’re just a “normal schlub” because that would make her a “schlubette” and not a princess. Also, she wants to believe that she (as opposed to other women) can spot a “diamond-in-the-rough” and by her magnificence transform her man from a “normal schlub” to a Prince Charming, like she obviously deserves. These fantasies are completely about her and the particular man is quite irrelevant to them.
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Exactly, which is why, as Paleo Retiree notes above, the letdown is so horrible to them, when cold, hard reality hits them in the face.
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