“If we really LOVE people for who they are, then why do we want them to change for who WE are?”
I have never, ever sought to change a woman. I don’t believe flaws and scars to be signs of defect or imperfection. Most often, I find they are beautiful signs of character and depth. I’m not spoiled and don’t feel entitled to pick-apart her particulars. I’d rather just not like you than to Bride of Frankenstein you. There are no demands, delusions, false hopes or expectations of perfection (perfecting—but that’s entirely different). I loathe the very thought of lists or litmus tests. And if, or when, I have caused a woman to change it’s not been by my desire but the unintentional result of my actions/inaction. So that doesn’t count. [Clears throat.] Does that mean I don’t have any “standards” when it comes to the fairer sex? Of course not. Absolutely not. Well, sort of. Okay, maybe. Yes, damn it. “Yes! I have no standards.” There, I said it. Queue the crazy clichés. “If you don’t standard for something, you’ll fall for anyone.” “As long as the world turns, what goes around will always come around.” I know that last one didn’t make any sense at all. But I picked it ripe from the plastic tree that is Tony Gaskins‘ twitter feed—so don’t shoot the messenger.
Now I am not inclined to argue against whatever you feel works best for you, even if it absolutely hasn’t been working and is completely illogical idiocy. But standards are the high-fructose corn syrup of relationships. And you should know not to expect a single serving of sugar-coated BS in this dish. Every time someone raises a relationship standard, somewhere a piece of personality dies. Does this mean mean you should take all comers come what may? Don’t be ridiculous. We already have natural preferences, proclivities, attractions and instincts. Some of us even go so far as to have a “type.” But demands are for hostage negotiations (which would explain a lot in some cases). Litmus tests are meant for politics, but are rarely effective even in that context. And all of these silly lil’ school-girl lists published in magazines are meant for no one that has crossed the burning sands of puberty. A friend recently shared the fact that she employs a rubric in lieu of rigidly strict standards. I could see this thought catching on. Still much too methodical and limiting for my taste, but I’ll show you how it’s done before Tyrese writes a book about it. Do with it what you will*.
*Results may vary
Recently I met a woman who read my column and asked a question that has never before been posed to me, “What percentage of the women you’ve been with would you say have tried to change you?”
Bonus plastic fruit