This creates horrific problems for us in dating and relationship situations however.  All of my statistics line up for me to have this unhealthy and enduring attraction to emotionally unavailable men. What are the statistics by which we judge whether or not we are walking divorce rates waiting to happen?  First, were your parent’s divorced?  Check.  Did you have a relatively absent father?  Check.   Do you have low self-esteem?  Check.  And it my theory that all models or those that go into industries that have largely to do with their physicality need validation through those means and therefore are inherently insecure as a general rule.

So what is the end result?  The end result is I am doomed to be with a man that is completely wrong because they also happen to be the only men that I am ever attracted to in the first place?  Attraction should be a fickle thing but somehow I doubt that.  I think it comes from someplace deeper and it can’t just be flipped on and off like a light switch which is why when our marriages are unravelling because we somehow realize we don’t love the person that we’re with but wish we could somehow manage to manufacture attraction- we still can’t do it.  Because it’s impossible.

Although I know I go for the wrong type of guy who gives me all of the thumbs up signals but doesn’t want to commit, I still manage to pride myself on being this self-righteous straighforward gal who never beats around the bush.  Yea that fucking helps.  All it does is serve to shorten the amount of time I feel the pain and rejection which might be a good thing.  But I would think the best thing to do would be to avoid the pain and painful people altogether.

I am my father’s daughter.  All of my life I was given, spared, coddled. Until he left. I was then left to wonder if he loved me so much why did he leave me.  Not knowing until years later, that of course he was a broken man himself who probably married for all of the wrong reasons – none of them qualifying for anything remotely close to love.  Because to marry for love you would first have to identify what that is.  You would have to wrestle with the notion, let it sit and burn, and have the courage to see where it leads next.  Most men in my experience cannot do this.  Because if they do this their world comes crumbling down.  No the modern man can do and conquer anything he so chooses, except his own emotions.  One of my friends said this, “The ONLY pain I feel is from succumbing to my own emotions.”

Here is the the real, naked, raw me that no one who could say is in their right minds could ever say about me and sound like a sane individual.  But what’s funny is that most of us live in our heads…  First that is.  Action comes much later after all of the prim/proper labels are attached and after a potentially offensive thought or ideal has been thoroughly filtered through our professional, social, political, and even religious filters… or at least filtered in such a way that the world has come to expect from us.  Then and only then will we maybe, just maybe get a fraction of that person’s truth.  But I doubt it.

Money was always an issue with me.  Never having enough of it, always asking for something from my Daddy to feel special and to feel loved and to feel exclusive from the other kids in my family.  Therefore one principle I learned early in life was that men have a deep need for a beautiful woman to validate them.  And not only that but they also have a deep need to provide or take care of a beautiful woman.  It helps to communicate to both themselves and the world around them that they are worthwhile and living a complete, normal, healthy and sane existence.

I haven’t a clue why these words are pouring out of me on this topic and at this time.  My only suspicion is that it’s because I’m 30, don’t have a damn thing in savings.  Have poured everything into cars, clothes, and lifestyle all thinking that my philosophy would always ring true.  Well it hasn’t.  My first poor beleaguered husband worked his fingers to the bone for 35k per year.  That might get me 6 months of my life and how I like to live it.  So what did I do?  I moved onto the next man.  A doctor naturally who was so fucked up from his former family circumstance that not only did he believe money was love, but literally thought that money was love.  Meaning that he had no formal definition and had no real idea what it meant.  I can’t say that I had a perfectly bulletproof definition myself but I’m fairly certain it was better than his.

Because I am beautiful and because men threw themselves at me, he began to spoil me with the money he did not have as a doctor.  At least not yet.  It takes a while to make the kind of money that doctors’ are known for.  Truthfully, it would have been a match made in heaven had he not been one sick, abusive motherfucker.  I clung to him though like my life depended on it.  And it really almost did.  I clung and clung until my very spirit withered away to nothingness.  I got hooked on pills to get me through the bad times and it worked for a while.  Until I stopped eating and sleeping.  Then the hallucinations set in and the mental hospital visit came next.

Realizing that beauty is power fucks girls like me up who don’t know how to give and receive love.  It’s pretty fucking sad that I probably won’t know true love the next time I see it and won’t recognize a man that has the true capacity to love me forever and beyond.  I only know that I’m a slab of meat and everyone wants a piece.

It really is uncanny.  I even caught myself thinking “oh so that’s why I do that” several times.

So what do you do?  Normally not eat save a starbucks double tall extra dry cap and a muffin.  Or if you want to be completely daring eat nothing all day and then splurge on a Dairy Queen banana split.  That way you eat what you want albeit not when you want but, you are still getting a rather large dose of horrible lovely things that would otherwise have you falling off of the diet wagon had you already incorporated that skinnless chicken breast and broccoli sidedish  for lunch.

In many ways it is the best of both worlds.  The only downside which is a rather huge downside when you think about it, is that you may meet tons of men that want nothing more than to catch a glimpse of you and be near you.  But you’ll be so fukcin b*t*hy, that there’s absolutely no way you would ever be able to maintain a civil conversation with another human being – especially a man with half a brain when you’re fukcin starving half to death.

My definition does not include bedding them that’s easy, they are men after all.  My definition includes someone that will stick around long enough to have our first argument and want to be with me so badly that they will go to any lengths to address my needs, wants and subsequent fears for the future.

Men are not emotionally mature until they are forced into being that way and normally the force- ER is not the one that sticks around because it’s such a huge jolt to a man’s system.  I truly do believe that getting in touch with what they are feeling is something that men have to work really hard at.  As women, we tend to already have every thought process we have dedicated to our feelings, and emotionality.  Men’s brains are naturally wired with their feelings as a whole other thing.  To break it down to some extent, men think without putting their emotions into it and for women this is downright impossible and cruel.

As I’ve said before, it all begins with physicality for men.  I am very physically attracted to a man in my life right now and he is very physically attracted to me.  What is the hold up?  The man’s underdeveloped emotions and not being able to deal with those for more than 2 minutes.  When I say 2 minutes I’m not attempting to use hyperbole here.  I do not know how to be anything but straightforward and all he knows is going about things in a roundabout way. He fits my very definition of what I want in a man but I doubt I fit his definition.  Not because of any trait or set of characteristics but because he felt what it was like to feel something for someone of the opposite sex before, and that experience -most likely his first was so all-consuming and lovely that it turned the entire situation into a beautiful disaster.  For men, I’ve found that it’s much easier to deal with life as it comes if you don’t engage it.  Everything is easy when we tell ourselves we don’t care about it.  Everything.

I wish I could do this too.  Out of any of the men in our small pool of men that I could have chosen from who did I immediately pursue?  The funny ones, the strange ones, the emotionally unavailable ones.  I’ve tried time and again to analyze what this says about me and I really haven’t a clue.  In my own opinion I feel like it is the carefree/light way in which these men tend to lead their lives.  Without a care in the world and light as a feather.  The only problem is, that no one can truly live their life without putting some of themselves into it.  I’m starting to slowly understand this.  Something that I’ve resisted understanding for no real reason but for a very long time.

I am not going to be clueless anymore when it comes to men in this regard and up to this point.  But, there will always be a nagging sense of wanting to uncover the “why.”  The nagging question of why is always lurking just beneath the surface with these types.  The damaged goods if you will always have a reason why they are damaged.  I think I have a savior complex.  I want to feel like someone’s entire world.  And starting with helping them uncover one of life’s greatest and most enduring joys would be a fairly good start.

I attend classes at one of the biggest Universities in the continental US.  Where people from all walks of life converge to receive higher education and beyond.  There are many attractive girls that attend my school.  But for some reason or another something combined with my Asian American-ness stereotype and my rare beauty confounds and even mesmerizes all of the professors in each and every one of my classes.  As ridiculously conceited as this may sound, I attempt to be as humble as I can by consciously keeping my head down and to not act or appear overly-engaged in class.  But there are times when the subject matter is incredibly too interesting, so I may lean forward and by some chance catch the professor’s eye and he may return his gaze into my general direction whenever he feels I may be looking in his direction.  It can hardly be doubted that men are visual beings and cannot help looking favorably at the aesthetically pleasing.  Women are attracted to attractive things/individuals too, but may not appear to be as physically dumbfounded, jaw on the floor as men tend to be.

I have to on a constant basis remind myself that I am not the problem.  I know in my heart of hearts that they have very low self-esteem because I was there once.  You feel invisible, and like no one really cares if you live or die.  You could fall off the face of the planet tomorrow and if Ms. good-looking so and so is still in class to make an appearance your colleagues or your professors couldn’t care less about the girl in the back who slumps down in her seat and cowers away from any/all attention believing that it will be negative.

I did this for entirely too much of my life.  High school was the absolute worst.  But I wanted to be known, and I wanted to be distinguishable.  Not knowing or being disciplined enough to get it in a positive way I found ways to achieve those things negatively.  It was toxic and it can ruin a person’s self image for a very long time.  To this day, it has affected who I am and how I must be seen by others.

I like to look good.  Because when I look good I feel good, and when I feel good I am able to project that to the world at large.  Only this is too dynamic for many to take.  They don’t feel comfortable enough with who they are to ever accept those that do feel comfortable in their own skin.

Look, I know this is what it is but if you experience enough haters day in and day out because they can’t take that you’re fabulous?  It starts to grind on a girl.  If you don’t like your situation haterz, then do like I did and change it.  Don’t look around for sympathy or think your intellect alone is going to get you where you want to be because it’s not.  Men are shallow, visual creatures.  Get used to it.  If you think they aren’t and if you think perhaps maybe you just haven’t found the right man who likes you for you?  Okay keep thinking that.  You’ll be single when you’re 40.  The truth of the matter is your looks are your threshold acceptance requirement for the opposite sex.  If those are on point, then perhaps, MAYBE down the road he’ll want to get to know you for you and be willing to accept you for you when things begin going downhill lookswise.  But if you’re already looking tore up like you don’t care what you look like?  Why would he care what you look/think like either?

Some places I hear the syndrome being described as when someone is particularly good looking, tending to play down their looks and perhaps growing out an ugly beard, or women consistently wearing an outift 3 sizes too big to cover their goddess-like shape.

Being incredibly rare and beautiful is like being a famous actor or actress in that you are sought out and hounded, but a million times worse due to the seeming lack of repercussions.  Knowing this they have absolutely 0 filter, and 0 sense you are a dignified person who demands that they should respect your privacy.

Third, it’s also a bit terrifying as well.  Today for example taking my dog across the street to the dog park should have proved uneventful and would have for most individuals.  But what happened to me? Along the way I see two guys staring fairly hard-sitting on their balcony shirtless, and because that’s how the citizens of this particular state roll… I didn’t think this odd.

I then spot them hurrying to ready their dogs to catch me at the dog park.  Little do they know I was fleeing because of that very reason-men.  Some bozo had the same bright idea and brought his big ‘ole German Shepard in the dog park which then proceeded to rush me from behind practically knocking me over and serving up a direct hit actually succeeding in knocking over my pocket size pooch.

When I’m driving.  I promise I never get anywhere on time.  Not even remotely.  Why, that’s silly you may ask?  Because there are cars in front of me with either men or women and you would think that would matter but I’ve come to find out that it seriously DOES NOT matter.  Both sexes I’m noticing will slow down to a dull roar or completely cut me off to get in front of me and get a nice long gander at me through their vehicle’s rearview mirror when there are 2 other lanes wideeee open.

I hear the rumble of automobiles outside my apartment.  Men who park their cars outside of my apartment sit in their cars and wait just to catch a glimpse of me inside my apartment.  I’ve seen arguments erupt in grocery store parking lots between couple after couple and the gist of the argument remains the same, “were you looking at that girl” “no of course not honey”…. “I saw you don’t lie to me”… “ok, fine I looked I’m human what do you want from me” the couple’s conversation trails off as they both climb into their car and begin the long journey home.

Perhaps Keanu had it right.  I think I’ll try and grow a beard.