The Romance That Affects Men: Fact or Fiction?

Do guys even remotely compare to women in aspects pertaining to romance?

This Is a question I need answered. A few hours ago, having just seen Breaking Dawn Part 2, I found myself pondering if the few men in the theater left feeling at all similar to the women. I'm assuming I was not alone in my quiet reverie on the drive home feeling the oxytocin induced wistfulness, a common side effect of chick flicks. Ladies, you know the feeling. That moment when you sigh really big and your hope makes you long for the delusion just witnessed on the silver screen. I have previously written about my beliefs of the effect romances have on women. Here is a brief synopsis: We read about and/or watch romances that fill us, the hopelessly deluded of us, with the hope and idea that that kind of love truly exists. We then spend "x" amount of time trying to find such an epic, vomit inducing, over the top, yet so appealing, real life version of this fictional love only to have reality fall short. Go figure.

However, I'm interested in whether or not love affects men in a mushy manner. I'm sure that most movies, especially Twilight, have little to no effect on the majority of the male populace. I'm also sure there are men out there who might get a pang of what women feel but would never own up to it. The social norms and gender roles placed on men and women dictate the we, the women, are the sappy romance types, while the men are the hard, logical, less emotional types. My question still lies in romance. It's something scarcely talked about and I know why. But to hell with gender roles. We all know Freud had an oedipal complex for his mom and projected that onto the rest of mankind.

So men, riddle me this: What gets to you? What, if anything, causes you to have your own oxytocin driven reverie of wistfulness? And gentlemen, romance and wistfulness do not equate to late night internet videos watched alone. Let's keep it clean please.

Fifty Shades of Hoopla

It is likely that there are few people in the world who love to read as much as I do. However, it has become apparent that I may be the only person, with the exception of my best friend, who has the capacity to separate written fiction from reality.

Fifty Shades of Grey is a great book. I enjoyed reading it and would normally recommend it to others. Now, I'm not so sure. Since the boom of the Mr. Grey obsession, I have discovered that women are obtuse. "We" read a book and do what, ladies? We try our damnedest to bring the narrative to life. I am not saying this is necessarily wrong, for I too have fallen victim to the desire for my own Mr. Darcy. I have yearned for the literary male perfection that fills the pages of most fiction. Have you picked up on the key word yet? It's FICTION. One of the alluring and fantastic aspects of the written word is it's potential to transcend the ordinary. Who wants to pick up a book and read about the hum drum rushed nuptials that is the commonality in America? Compared to society's 15 minutes of shame marriages, the Christian Grey/ Anastasia Steele relationship seems ideal.

Well, I beg to differ. This story is yet another example of a girl who is lucky enough to be the exception, not the rule. I have nothing against BDSM and honestly, am all for it. Be that as it may, am I the only one who understands what really goes on in a dom/ sub relationship? To take it to the level that Grey did, he honestly wants to break Ana down. That is the appeal of having a submissive. Grey doesn't want to separate the activities in the "Red Room" from the way he treats his subs outside of the room. Here comes the cliche. Of course, Ana would change that about him. She brings out his desire for "hearts and flowers" and all things "vanilla." Yep, this is sweet and romantic and even banal. BUT, it isn't reality. Trust me, the men like Christian who need to take the Dom role to that extreme are warped. Grey was abused, orphaned, and in agreement with Ana, molested. My point is that in the real world there are Christian Greys but they are not willing to try for hearts in flowers and their baggage is too much for a hoard of subs to carry.

So, my problem does not lie in the narrative but in the growing public opinion. I loved the book. It was romantic, sexy, and the pithy banter is still buzzing my brain. But, when I closed the book, it's back to reality. The conception I hear from most about the book is this, "If men want a handbook on women, they should read Fifty Shades." Ha! Darlings, male brains do not work in this manner. They will read a little from this book and take from it this: "Ahh, so the key to women is they want me to beat their ass and tell them what to do." To quote my extremely intelligent best friend, "If women are going to be that stupid, they deserve whatever they get." Agreed. It's okay to fantasize. Open a book and let the pages be an escape. I do it every day. Just know that I am not being a pessimist but a realist when I say that I highly doubt you are going to find Christian Grey in the real world. By all means correct me if I'm wrong, but I know of no one who has found a 27 year old multi-millionaire, who is Greek god gorgeous, witty beyond measure, and willing to work through his tremendous qualms about women all because he found one woman who strikes his fancy. I believe in romance, epic romance even. Nevertheless, the lesson I'm still learning is one I wish to teach as well. Don't waste your time scouting for the fictitious Mr. Grey and miss out on the real thing.

Brandy Fisher
From HER ivory tower of realism.

Thanks. Now I remember why I'm single.

I truly do not understand cheating. Recently, I have been the target of several guys in "serious" relationships trying to mack on me. WHAT?! There are few absolute truths in the world. Let me share one: If he will cheat on her with you, he WILL cheat on you. Why in the hell would I willingly be a part of an affair. No one deserves to be cheated on and I'll be damned if I will be the other woman.
 I don't believe nor understand it for several reasons. First of all, why cheat? If you're not happy in your current relationship GET OUT OF IT. Why must people have their cake and eat it too. I can not wrap my brain around this concept. I have never even had the desire to cheat but let's say for argument's sake I have. I would break up with the person and pursue other people. Secondly, i get so tired of hearing "but I love her." NO YOU DO NOT. If you did you would not cheat on her. It's that simple. I have had the world's most horrific boyfriends and I still never swayed. I'm also sick of hearing, "I have needs and she isn't meeting them." Once again, break up with her. I'm sorry but if she's holding out on you and sex is your primary objective in the relationship, you'll be doing both of you a favor by ending it.
In conclusion dear unfaithful males, you could not have insulted me any greater than by assuming my moral standards are that low. P.S. I hope you get syphilis.

Where is my Sheldon?

I need a Sheldon in my life. I want someone who thinks that George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry should be etched onto Mt. Rushmore. Someone who knows who is from the planet Kashyyk and what would happen to you if I said "Tarantallegra." I love science fiction. I want to live in a world full of gungans, hippogriffs, and vulcans. I don't even care anymore that all my friends mock me for this. I just want someone who gets it. Yes, there will be days I will watch all six episodes of Star Wars. I will reread my Harry Potter books every summer. I think sparkly vampires are awesome. I talk to my car like it's a transformer and am convinced my smartphone is out to kill me. I like to imagine. I like to fantasize about the improbable. So maybe I am a bit of a nerd, but frankly I don't give a damn. I want someone who's number two on their bucket list is to go to Comic-Con. These people exist. The clincher is finding one who doesn't live in his mother's basement.

The thought manifests as the word.

I finally figured it out. I pick men I know I can't have therefore they can never let me down. I have placed such high expectations on relationships that disappointment is inevitable. I grew up in a world lost in the pages. As little girls most dream of marrying prince charming, I was consumed by the Mr. Darcys, Rochesters, and Rhett Butlers. I convinced myself that however imperfect these loves may be they all had one unifying component: intensity. These couples experienced a love so strong it hurt. I want that. I want to fall so hard for someone I simply can not bear the thought of a moment of his absence. Spoiler alert: it's rare, endangered, and quite possibly ancient folklore. I have put this ideal love so high on a pedestal that no man can possible live up to my expectations. Back to square one: Why I ever fell for the one I fell for. I knew he would never settle down, was superficial, and had parked me in the friend zone long before. Why not fall for him? If I could never have him, my perfect idea of what could be would never be crushed. Reality is built upon crushed dreams...on the naive and somewhat pathetic dreamworld of a girl who refuses to accept the truth. I am not looking for perfection. I want a companionship worthy of telling, a story of such intensity only ink could contain it, and a man I am beyond lucky to have found. Another part of my self realization is that I am not ready for this kind of love. I'm too damned young to find something as such so soon. Hence, why I fell for who I fell for. I may yearn for this love, look for it around every corner, and intensify it every time I read Pride and Prejudice, but I find it in my hope. At least there it's real. A thought I can't undo. 
"The thought manifests as the word. The word manifests as the deed. The deed develops into habit. And the habit hardens into character." --Buddha 

Don't worry about today, it's already tomorrow in Australia.

Why is it so hard to accept what is obviously the WRONG choice? We spend our lives trying to make the right decisions. Pick the right school, choose the right major, fall in love with the right guy, blah blah blah. However, we over analyze and try to justify our wrong choices as well. Why? Why can't we just accept that some choices are just the wrong ones. If we know we're going to make them anyway, why try to paint the decision in a more acceptable manner? When we drink too much, we say it is because we needed to cut loose or we had a bad week. At the end of a poorly chosen relationship we make excuses for why we were with that person. Why is it so hard to just admit that we're victims of human nature who fumble and fall before we find the right path. Maybe we got drunk because we're thrill seeking booze hounds. Maybe we jump into bad relationships because we tire of being alone and selfishly use another person to fill the void for the time being. Sometimes we know we shouldn't and that's exactly why we do.  I'm tired of making excuses as to why I make poor decisions. I work hard, am a fierce friend, make good grades, and am aspiring to do something great with my life. Sometimes the poor decision is just too tempting to pass up. Good judgment comes from bad experience which comes from bad judgment. I'm not trying to make all the wrong decisions before I make the right one. I'm trying to have my cake and eat it too. I cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, this poor choice I'm longing to make won't come back to bite me in the ass. Here's to hoping.