Epidemic of the Male Princesses

Men who want to "bring masculinity back" also love our hand on their thigh while we drive them to get their silly energy drink.

It took me more than 2 hours to get my tits the way I want it to be, not too north, not too south, one a little bit west but sometimes she just needs to explore her ways. Preparing for a date is no easy feat as most of my strongest soldiers would know. It takes away decades of our confidence and sometimes 3 makeup wipes to get our eye wing to look not too crooked. And, as expected, we show up to the date wearing our femininity on our face, on our neck, on our lashes, just for the male counterpart to take it away by leaving us walking on the outside of the sidewalk.

Let’s call this one Bill. Bill showed up to our much-wanted date with a respectable polo, 2 rings on his right hand, slicked back hair, and a piercing on his left ear. If I was not deaf back then, I would have said I heard barkings, because he was a dog.

The date went well, we kissed, and I got an Uber back to my place—a 45 minute drive. The Uber commented: “You must love the guy to find his warmth this far away from home.” As I got home, I texted him to thank for a good date—just for this MF to leave me on read for 3 hours.

Being the woman raised by my “ultra-pushy” mother (that’s how men would describe her), I have learned to give people chances sometimes they do not deserve. Turning a blind on blatant disregard of my own standards, just for them to call me on a whim and leave me high and dry once they have drank enough from the fountain of my lethal face card. It is humiliating to even entertain the 3-hour-left-on-read-er when there are men begging for me to fly me out for a beach vacation.

But that is the game. We are now trained to be chasers and not attractors.

Mass media got one thing right—and that is if he wanted to, he would; the same way that if I wanted to, I would. We normally exclude ourselves from basic human behaviors we ourselves take part in. Of course, I would not immediately reply to someone who I am not entirely interested in. Of course, I will be forgetting that they even exist for a few days if they are not certified intertwined-hand-holders. And, of course, whoever they are, I want them to remind me that they exist on their own.

This exactly is how men are acting these days. From their Hinge bio’s saying “looking for genuine connections” while also “looking for: figuring it out” to them expecting us to call first being in a semi-situationship, women are losing our own foot in this battle against the Male Princesses. Without preparing for this war, women are wheeled into it with the expectation etched into our brain by the “enemies to lovers” trope but it actually stops at “enemies.” And, this enemy chases and not attracts—they are the prizes.

Curiously enough, these are the same guys who get mad at other dudes painting their nails and wearing foundation on their faces.

It seems that the liberty of identity expressions in other men upsets these Male Princesses to their core. Unable to truly transform into the bitches that they are, they harp on about the actual men who actually embrace their feminine expressions and their understanding of the duality of humanhood is both feminine and masculine. Unable to one up women in anyway, they turn to each other for comfort—asking for other men’s approval of their masculinity while spewing hate on women, the same gender they claim they love so much. I hope they would just be honest and start passionately kiss each other.

It is so bazaar to see such level of self denial and destruct exist in so much narcissistic tendencies. Yet, this is not only the reality of dating, but also the reality of world-wide politics.

Not entirely sad, mostly funny, infuriating, and scary. The same people who love the guy that says “grab them by the p*ssy” can’t find the clit. And, those same people, as they embark on their unforseen journey of finding that clit, end up putting one on themselves, turning into cunts.

Of course, cunts—derogatory.