What it doesn’t mean:
1/ Someone who can afford to pay for your rent, your trips to the Bahamas or your new Chimmy Choos- I call men like that sugar daddies or surrogates or to be vulgar sex for cash. And frankly a lot of you do it, even if you believe you really love him (but honestly do you love him because he can afford to give you these nice things or because you are so crazy about him in the first place, cash or no cash?)
2/ Someone who you try to mould into for the sake of your ideal of how you wish to be loved or treated. I wonder if it’s not better to be loved for what another person is capable of giving you and you ladies accepting that instead of holding him to unrealistic expectations in your mind.
3/ Holding him on a leash and demanding he behave in a way that ultimately suffocates him- that my dears is not love but bait for sex and love.
4/ That you show him off like a show pony and get him to solve all your life dilemmas and forget about your own existence because now you are in love and love conquers all. Because here’s a free listen for you all- ‘love does not in fact conquer all.’ Did you hear that ladies?
5/ It doesn’t mean usurping your mental traumas and holding him ransom to your insecurities- that is not love, that is a hostage crises. And frankly I hate hostage crises.
Now that we’ve clarified in this author’s opinion of what it means to be a boyfriend let’s have a look at what jezebel had to say what makes for the ideal checklist of most desirable ideal boyfriend:
I kid you not: (in Jezebel’s defense- this initial checklist was written by the author when they got out of college one assumes many years ago- the updated abridged checklist appears on the next page)
I wanted a man who wore polo shirts and smelled like a fragrance counter. I wanted a man who knew about football and who attended Catholic mass on a weekly basis and who got good grades in school. I wanted a man who wore baseball caps and who was kind to children and who told me I was pretty. That’s basically it. We’d meet and we’d date for 2 years and we’d get engaged and I’d be married by like 25 and rolling out the infants by 28.
Kids are you puking over yourselves like we are? Doesn’t it sound like this author was raised in a barn outside Sunday mass? Seriously where did she learn about her particular expectations- Cosmo magazine, her high school friends, her pastor, her grandma, or some billboard hanging outside some zealot fundamental missionary cause?