You're not baggage claim, you're a luggage thief. You aren't doing anyone a service - you're fetishizing that which does not belong to you because it's easier and safer than dealing with whatever your personal crap contains. I'm going to guess your mom is kinda crazy. Mine is more than kinda. As a consequence, I dated a shit-ton of absolutely bat-shit women. In other words, I speak from experience. So lemme throw 20 years of collected wisdom at you and give you a brain hack: Find the "sane" in the crazy and the "crazy" in the sane. This serves two purposes: It gives you something healthy to see in the crazy people and makes the sane more attractive to you, and therefore more datable. The crazy people know they're crazy. They aren't generally happy that they're crazy. You popping a hard-on over their craziness doesn't make them feel any better, either - it's like chubby chasers for the morbidly obese. Not only do they know they're morbidly obese, they have to deal with the fact that the only people who find them attractive are messed in the head. By focusing on the things that make them normal, you reassure them that they're normal and that normal people can love them. The sane people know they're sane, but they equate "sane" with "boring." By finding the wild'n'crazy shit associated with perfectly sane women you help them convince themselves that they are a little different, that they are unique, that it's okay for things to not always be perfect and that rebelling a little is healthy and normal. More than that, though, it allows you to approach them as people within your dating pool and trust me - you'd much rather end up with the sane ones. My wife is completely normal and sane. She's also incredibly hot, a doctor with a thriving private practice and an impossibly good baker, knitter, vintner and jeweler. There was a perfect window of opportunity, though, when she thought she was a ruined woman (her first marriage collapsed). And I was able to see her as "damaged" for just long enough to realize how stupid my standards were, how badly I was screwing myself out of happiness and that goddamn it, I was entirely within my "rights" to pursue women without excess "baggage." And that's why I've been married to a hot doctor who wears size 2 pants for ten years... instead of a bisexual wiccan ex-stripper with a latex allergy.
good guess. I also like what you're saying for the most part so thank you for calling me on my shit. However, I'd like to pitch you the question of how you can determine who's crazy and who's not, if you're looking for the opposite in everyone. All of a sudden you're digging for traits that aren't really there, trying to craft a girl you like out of someone who is in reality the absolute opposite. I can tell a girl who's into pop country that she has a unique and cool taste in music. I did once, and she totally didn't see through my effort to hold back cocking a gun against my own head after I said that. But then if I say, "I really like that you're into all sorts of music," that's just a lie and she knows it; she doesn't want to be into all sorts of music. She's daft. So why should I tell every Mary Poppins that I like her swag? Is she not capable of learning and exhibiting the traits she likes, and eliminating the ones she doesn't on her own?I'm going to guess your mom is kinda crazy.
Dude, I'm not telling you to lie, and I'm not telling you to fool yourself. Let's imagine two girls, shall we? We'll name them Ginger and Maryann. Ginger is a narcissistic vamp who is only attracted to gay intellectuals. She's prone to histrionics and leopard prints. Maryanne sees the good in everyone and sees no point in being anything but happy. Both of them are pretty hot, by the way. You'd be naturally attracted to Ginger - after all, she's got your tweaks. but you don't walk up to Ginger and say "you know I love how you have such a hopeless love for gay men" because she knows she has a hopeless love for gay men and because it's bad for you. Instead you might (personally) focus on the fact that she listens to Christian rock, that she loves her parents and that she collects Manolo Blahniks. Maryann, on the other hand, doesn't want anyone to know she smokes a little doobage on the side and enjoys skinny dipping. You play up the 420 and the nudity with Maryann, suddenly she's a wild girl... to both you and her.
Lookit that. The vamp turns out to be just another boring singer: While Little Miss Wholesome ends up with a mugshot: I'm not telling you to reshape reality, I'm telling you to reshape how you regard reality. Telling a girl into Garth Brooks that a love of Garth Brooks is unique is just asinine. Telling a girl who's into Garth Brooks that she doesn't seem like the kind of girl who's into Garth Brooks can be a great conversation point - assuming she doesn't seem like the kind of girl who's into Garth Brooks. You don't have to tell every Mary Poppins that you like their swag - you need to see that there is no Mary Poppins and find the swag in everyone. And yes, of course she's capable of this journey on her own. The whole point of relationships (friends, romans, fuckbuddies) is to multiply the discovery through repeated emotional collision and occasional genital contact.
Sounds easier said than done, but I get what you're saying and I especially like the Garth Brooks point. This better get me a lot more genital collision.