I’m one of the fortunate ones. Twice in my life I’ve found men who valued the big I’s — intelligence and independence — over goo-goo eyes. Unfortunately, those two great men — sufficiently confident in their own masculinity to not only refrain from shackling me, but to encourage my flight — are no longer with us. I am single. But having been so blessed already, I’m not holding my breath awaiting lightning’s third strike.
Charming the prince’s tighty-whities off in exchange for half his kingdom has never been one of the tools in my box. I’d much rather engage in a spirited debate than to smile, flutter my eyelashes and pretend a man is smarter than he is. If he really wants me to respect his mind (and, trust me, this comes long before I give a rat’s crack about his money or his dangling mini-me), his work is cut out for him — and he knows this at the outset. I’m not going to roll over and spread my legs because I need what’s in his wallet. I don’t. And so many of my contemporaries are much the same. We’ve decided that we’re enough — and that if a good man wants to join us — that works. But we won’t devalue ourselves to make it happen.
Following is a fabulous piece I read this evening. I have no clue how to “reblog,” so I’ll just post the link for you.