It was recently brought to my attention that I had been taught that it was my job as a woman to adhere to an impossible double standard: to be both irresistible AND to resist.
In my 12 years of Catholic School, my teachers hammered into me the belief that, as a woman, I was responsible for deflecting men’s advances and that, if I even thought about raising my skirt an inch above my knees, the floodgates would open, and sin would rush in.
Simultaneously, smoky-eyed runway models were dancing figuratively in the background of my childhood, just as they literally danced in the background of Robert Palmer’s iconic “Simply Irresistible” music video. Pop culture was telling me that if any man, especially a commitment-free man, was actually able to resist my temptation, I was simply not “enough.”
I had never thought about the complexity of striking a balance between these two expectations, nor had I thought about what I should do or feel when a man was the one who wanted to “take it slow” rather than me. That is, until last week.
I am recently divorced and dating for the first time in 21 years. I met a man who I feel certain has feelings for me. I also have feelings for him and have felt a mutual attraction from the start. We went out on our third date last week. We had a lovely, connective two-hour conversation over dinner. I assumed he would want to take advantage of the third-date rule and at least try to kiss me as he walked me to my car. Instead, he politely held the door, walked me to my car, and gave me a warm hug. As I drove home, I started to wonder whether I had imagined his feelings for me or whether I had done something to lead him to believe that I didn’t want him to kiss me.
And then…I got a text message from him saying, “I’m bored. Can I come over?”
At this point, it’s 9:30 p.m. on a weeknight. He’s told me that he values sleep and likes to wake up early. There was only one conclusion to come to: He wants more than a warm hug.
“Hah!” I thought. “I knew he liked me. He thought he could resist the temptation of the irresistible me, but he could not. I AM IRRESISTIBLE.”
“What should I say?” I thought. “Your Catholic school teaching is telling you no, but you’re a modern woman who’s in a midlife metamorphosis. You’ve committed to stop ‘shoulding’ on yourself and seize the day.”
I decided to take the leap. “Come on over,” I said. My adrenaline was pumping as I answered the door and asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Just water,” he said.
He sat down on the couch. I cozied up next to him in a subtly seductive way, AND…he proceeded to talk to me in a purely platonic, chit-chatty way. After about an hour, I finally said, “I’m tired, and I need to go to bed.” He agreed that it was getting late, thanked me for the water, and hugged me goodbye.
This is not something I expected. I was taught that ALL men want to make it to first, second, third, and home base as soon as women give them the green light to do so. What am I supposed to feel or do when I am RESISTIBLE? My gut reaction was to feel ashamed and as if I am not “enough.” But is that fair to myself or to the man who really does want to “take it slow” and get to know me without the fog of desire?
My failed green light in this experience has brought to light many stories I have been told about the roles men and women “should” play in dating and in life. I’m realizing that my freshman dorm RA taught me to blow my standard-issue rape whistle just as loudly as Cindy Crawford subconsciously taught me to blow seductive, lip-smacking kisses. Is there a healthy in-between?
I’m sharing some of these questions I’m asking myself to form my conclusions in hopes that they may also spark realizations and conclusions for you.
- I think I want to feel irresistible. What is driving my desire to be irresistible? Do I really want or need to feel irresistible?
- In what ways might a man who is able to resist me serve me?
- I think men “should” always be the first one to make a move. Do I really want that? Is that a fair expectation in a modern post-Me Too world?
- I feel ashamed when I give the green light before a man is ready to go. What are the stories I have been told to green-light that shame? Do I want to continue to believe those stories?
Does this story provoke any imperfectly honest questions for you?
