My pants might as well be made out of carbon steel for all the accessibility they provide. It’s that hard to get into them. It’s not that my sex drive sucks. I love sex 187 times more than Joe Average. It’s just that I love my life, too — far too much to exchange it for a mediocre relationship.
I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with men who have made me spectacularly happy. I’ve travelled to the stars and slid down every rainbow, so I’ve learned what kind of men I adore: those who love their lives as much as I love mine because that’s the only way I get to keep all my magic.
If you’re the type who wants to weave your partner into every aspect of your life, I’m definitely not The One for you. I don’t want to go to every one of your parties. I don’t want to join you for every damned visit to the shop because I don’t want to kill every sparkling piece of intrigue between us until all we have left is domestic boredom. I prefer passion and keeping my beautiful life intact. Those hours apart are valuable. I treasure them even though I treasure you.
A man who loves his life is not looking for a woman to change his life. I’ve been involved with a man who thought I would solve all his problems. I’m a woman, not a solution. That doesn’t mean I’m looking to be an option. There are a thousand universes between clingy and not giving a single fuck, so it’s a happy medium I’m looking for—two whole people, not two halves. I can (eventually) make you the most important person in my life, but not the most important facet. I live more easily with introverts for exactly this reason. They need time alone, therefore they respect the fact that I need time alone. The last extrovert I dated wanted to turn me into an extrovert. You might as well try to turn me into a mushroom. You’ll enjoy as much success.
I will hug the shit out of you, adore you to pieces, and spoil you rotten, but I’m not looking for an accessory. I’m not looking for a Siamese twin. I’m looking for a partner.
Relationships have the power to enhance your life or destroy you. I’ve had both, so I’ve become reluctant to have relationships with people I’m unsure about. My lifestyle is too hard won and too well loved for that. In Mark Manson’s words I need a ‘fuck yes’ in order to get involved with a man, and I want a man who’s ‘fuck yes’ about me, too.
I just walked my entire city torturously choosing every tiny piece of my new living room. It’s precisely how I want it to be. If you want me to add a painting here or a scatter cushion there, I’m going to think pretty hard about it because I love what I’ve done. I’ve worked far harder to create the enchantment that is my life. Why would I change it with less thought?