I’d like to begin with a simple fact: Edward Cullen and Christian Grey DO NOT EXIST. Also, a big fat “fuck you” to Stephenie Meyer and E.L. James for putting the idea of these fantasy men into the brains of hopelessly romantic women. You’re both assholes. But in all seriousness, books like Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey have given women this false sense of hope that Prince Charming is really out there somewhere, when in reality he’s just some fictional vampire or a kinky billionaire who was raped and beaten as a child.
I mean, we’re not dumb. Obviously these characters don’t exist, but when a borderline godlike-looking guy comes your way and charms your damn pants off, you’re a lot more vulnerable and likely to fall for it, because we keep believing in perfection. Remember that whole “if it seems too good to be true, it probably is” thing? Yeah. That shit still applies, whether we like it or not.
Let’s rewind for a second here. I was in a situation very similar to this recently, and as I sit here polishing off a bottle of Moscato and listening to Adele (pity me), I can’t help but laugh at myself. I literally fell for the exact show that I’m about to advise you to steer clear of.
He was confident, sexy, and had gorgeous eyes and a killer smile to match his perfect body. Helloooo, sir. Where had you been hiding? He took me to coffee and I was swept off my feet immediately. His perfection went beyond just the looks, too. He was smart, very smart, and he was funny, AND he was wildly successful. A 22-year-old entrepreneur raking in over $300,000 a year? Just show me your playroom and let’s rock ‘n’ roll, mister.
At first, he was fantastic, spoiling the hell out of me with flowers, chocolates, surprises and romantic dates left-and-right. He was kissing my ass, worshiping me, making his fortune by day and spending it on me by night. Valentine’s Day came, and our chapter room was covered in stuffed animals, and roses, and candy, and breakfast complete with doughnuts and orange juice for everyone in the house, all thanks to him. He wanted to “impress my sisters” to impress me.
I thought I was seeing Mr. Perfect, until my sisters started to hate him. I couldn’t understand it, until I started to re-evaluate the situation. He was spoiling me, yes, but he wasn’t treating me well. He was constantly talking down to me, as he talked himself up. He bragged about his accomplishments constantly, even in front of my friends. I had to call him out on it, and it would always lead to fights. He was beyond arrogant, and my feelings were only further solidified when I objectively looked at his Facebook. It was filled with mirror pictures, selfies in douche tanks, flexing his muscles, and wearing suits with captions like “boss up.” I was seeing a Facebook douche, the worst kind of douche. Shit.
So, what’s the moral of the story? The fact that there are plenty of guys out there who will fake it until they make it with you. My warning to you is to steer clear of them. Like I said earlier, if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Good guys do exist somewhere in this wild universe, but they aren’t perfect. They’re vulnerable, they make mistakes, and they certainly don’t sparkle or suck blood for a living. It’s all a sorting process, so sort them out, and in the meantime, have a little fun.
- Image via thebigwoo.hubpages.com
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