Why Men Like You Don’t Impress Me Much

Anyone could make eye contact with me from across a room or swipe right with their thumb. All it takes is a second of your time. All it takes is a tiny bit of confidence and a desire to get in my pants. You know what would actually impress me? If you took more than two seconds to focus on me. If you dedicated your time to getting to know me. The real me. Not just what I think of Stranger Things or what I have hidden under my clothes.

Anyone could shoot me a one-line text. Sure, I smile whenever your name flashes on my phone. Sure, I appreciate when you take the time to check in with me. But you know what would actually impress me? If you made me smile face-to-face. If you asked me to hang out in person, because flirting with me over a screen wasn’t enough. If you wanted me, and not just the ego boots I give you whenever I send you a cute text.

Anyone could invite me over to watch Netflix. I love lazy days as much as the next girl, but if all you want to do is click on a screen and try to sleep with me, I’m going to pass. You know what would actually impress me? If you took me to an art exhibit, to a bowling alley, to your childhood home. Anywhere. Anywhere that showed you were willing to put in effort to get to know me.

Anyone could compliment me. Pick a feature and tell me that it’s the most beautiful one they’ve ever seen. But you know what would actually impress me? If you found something non-generic to compliment me on. If you made me feel something other than beautiful. If you made me feel intelligent. Valuable. Loved.

Anyone could pick up a guitar and play a song that they’ve already played for a hundred girls before. As sweet as it sounds, as hot as you look with your fingers on the frets, it isn’t going to make me swoon. You know what would actually impress me? If you stopped trying to use gimmicks to get me to like you. If you sat down with me and had a real conversation. I’d rather hear your original words than lyrics you’ve repeated so many times that they’ve become meaningless.

Anyone could kiss me. Press their lips against my lips and wet the area between my thighs. But you know what would actually impress me? If you connected with more than just my skin. If you let me into your heart, instead of just your jeans. If you gave me a reason to want to be with you, morning, noon, and night, instead of just when we’re both lonely.

Anyone could call me their girlfriend. It’s just a word. A meaningless word, unless you inject meaning into it. You know what would actually impress me? If you didn’t just go through the motions with me, so you could stop being single, or so you could get sex on a frequent basis, or so you had someone to bring to Thanksgiving dinner. I want you to want me, and not just any girl who can fill the void. I want you to actually put in the effort I deserve. I want this to be real.