Why Should I Care If I Intimidate Men?
My strength and independence were grown out of necessity, not desire for them. I take care of myself and my life because there is no one else to do. If something needs fixing, I fix it. If something costs money, I find it. If my mind gets cloudy, I clear it.
I didn’t wake up one day and tell myself I wanted to be a strong, fierce woman. I woke up one day and I was one. I’m not sure when it happened.
Words don’t affect me nearly as much as they used to. I can’t be bothered with other people’s opinions of me, what I look like, what I wear or what I say. I do what I want.
I’ll be 46 years old in two weeks. This is a right I’ve earned. I’ve come by it honestly.
I’ve been told more than a time or two before that my singlehood is possibly connected to a feeling of intimidation I bring out in men. I’m too bold. I’m too strong. I’m too opinionated. That’s too bad. I’m not stepping backward for anyone.
I’ve found that many men will tell you they love a strong woman up until the moment you demonstrate said strength and then you realize they do not, in fact, love strong women.
I see men drawn to the role of the knight in shining armor. If there’s a lady who needs help, they rush to her side and then find themselves awash in her gratitude. She walks off with her knight and I go read a book.
I can’t pretend to be a damsel in distress just so I have a date on Friday night. I have more interesting things to do.
I don’t know how to be any other way and I don’t want to be any other way. I find it silly to feign helplessness just to stroke a man’s ego to make him think I can’t get by without his help.
I don’t need a man to do the heavy lifting. What I need is a man that can do the emotional labor. The man that’s going to dig in when things get hard and not run away. The man that can see the storm behind my eyes but recognize my ability to keep it safely at bay.
I firmly believe that the man who is willing to do emotional labor won’t be afraid of my fearlessness because he himself is fearless. He’s done his work, too. He knows his value and wants to be loved for it. That’s a good man.
I mean it when I say I love is a strong man. And by that, I mean in all senses. Physical strength may make him nice to look at but I can open all the jars in my house just fine.
A strong man knows the difference between me needing his care and wanting it. A strong man finds the place inside him to be himself and wants me to share that space with him. He respects my need to be unflinchingly who I am.
If it means that I continue to spend time by myself because I’m too scary for the men that don’t fit this bill, so be it. I’m happy and hang my hat on creating that happiness all by myself. I have no fear of missing out.
Whether I man finds me intimidating is not my concern. I refuse to change who I am to accommodate a man who doesn’t appreciate what I’ve become.