I find it incredible that, regardless of all of my fight against Walt Disney and his ingrained cult of Princesses and Princes, that I still can melt into a girlish state when my new guy is around. Regardless of my mood, he lifts me up just touching me. I rarely enjoy a man that is touchy-feely, probably because it felt like a weird ownership thing, like a cat rubbing its face on all your stuff, or a dog peeing on every tree, leaving its mark. In this case, I actually enjoy it, and have no problems with it.
I have always said I have wanted a guy with a sense of humour, loves sports, can wear a ball cap and a suit at the same time, is stronger than me and can lead. Seems like that isn't too hard, but at my age, perhaps the fishing pond is a bit limited. Sure I can bend my rules, but those are all pretty much deal breakers. I want a guy's-guy, not a soft guy, not a girly-guy, not a girlfriend. A guy that can stand up to idiot men bugging me, a guy who gets along with my friends, a guy who is family-oriented, and one that likes to eat.
My pitbull has turned me into a daisy. As long as I keep feeding him and he keeps watering me, we'll be great.
Jen McIntyre | Create your badge