I Want A Man Who Will Listen To My Story, Not A Man Who Just Wants My Body

A blonde bowman lifting up her hands while standing on a sandy hill on a bright day
Brooke Cagle / Unsplash

I can’t tell you how many times a man has commented on my body before he ever spoke about my mind. How many times I played into it, absorbing the compliments as if surface level observations could forge a deep connection between two souls. As if love could be built on comments about how great I look in this dress.

And I can’t tell you how many times a man has looked right through me as I told him my wildest dreams. Only to snap back to reality when I finished, and he’d ask me if I’d like to go home with him tonight. My intellect having nothing to do with the nerves coursing through him. And I wonder if anyone of the opposite sex will ever want to hear my story before they undress me.

Because men have told me my entire life how I needed to be for them,

How I should sit still, and look pretty.

Smile.

Don’t be too loud.

But speak up when I need you to.

Don’t wear that it’s too slutty.

You look like a prude.

I don’t like your hair short.

Don’t say that.

You’re wrong.

Not enough makeup.

Too much makeup, ew.

And on and on it goes.

But I decided to change the game. Because baby this world is mine for the taking. And I didn’t come here to fit your mold.

I came here to make noise.

And I don’t give a fuck if my words turn you off.

Or if my skirt is too short.

If my opinion punches yours in the face.

I want to cause chaos for as long as I can. And I need you to challenge me.

Because you being able to unbutton my top quickly does nothing for me.

That move is played out.

Show me what lives in the corners of your mind. And hunt for what I keep hidden in my heart.

Let me see what you hide away in your rib cage.

Grab my hand and fling me into the unknown. Stand beside me and actually hear me. Memorize the color of my eyes before you make a map of my curves.

Because I’m sure you can make love to my body.

But can you handle a heart like mine? A mouth that spits fire, and a mind that creates magic. Because that’s what I want. That’s what turns me on. Let me see that you can handle a woman who fights to be everything she wants.

That you want to make noise with me.

That kind of chaos blows my mind.

So rock my world, baby. I’m waiting. TC mark

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You look back and you just feel stupid.
You can’t forgive yourself for falling
or believing all the lies.
You reread every text.
You relive every memory.
And it all starts making sense —
he never wanted love.
He only wanted attention.
He only wanted validation.

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