Throughout history, the concept of what defines a "good woman" has been rewritten by every generation, every culture, every man and woman struggling to understand each other in an ever-evolving world. But in today’s digital age—where self-help quotes masquerade as wisdom and social media clips reduce human complexity to sound bites—we find ourselves trapped in a confusing theater of half-truths and aspirational narratives.
A video recently made its rounds online. In it, a man earnestly declares:
“A good woman knows her self-worth and her value. She’s not going to let a man come into her life and tell her anything. He has to be the man he said he was. He has to lead. He has to understand emotional intelligence. She’s not taking care of a grown man. He has to nurture her femininity.”
The cadence of his voice was calm, almost reverent. The words? A blend of New Age psychology and poetic idealism. But beneath the polished delivery, something felt off. Perhaps it was the language—phrases like “nurture her femininity” and “emotional intelligence”—terms that, while valid in therapy or academia, ring awkwardly in the mouth of the everyday heterosexual man. It isn’t that men can’t be emotionally aware; it’s that the way he framed it—so scripted, so curated—felt more like a performance than a lived reality.
Let’s be honest: when a man speaks like this, with rehearsed elegance about femininity and spiritual peace, it raises questions. Not about his sincerity, but about his connection to the raw, imperfect truth of male-female dynamics. He speaks of “good women” as if he knows them intimately, as if he’s been their counselor, not their partner. And every justification he offers is his—not hers. She doesn't speak. She’s theorized, idealized, and defended by a man who has turned her into a philosophical concept rather than a living, breathing person.
This “good woman,” according to him, is often alone—but by choice. She knows her worth, he insists, and won’t settle for less. But here's a truth not spoken enough: a woman can know her worth and still choose companionship. Self-respect doesn’t demand isolation. Strength doesn’t require solitude.
The problem arises when these so-called “good women” create fortresses so high, no man—good or otherwise—can reach them. She's not alone because of her values; she's alone because of her conditions. Too bossy. Too religious. Too combative. Sometimes too consumed by her image of herself as untouchable. And yes, sometimes the issue is physical. While weight is no moral failing, reality still holds: a man who trains his body and prioritizes health is unlikely to pursue a partner who doesn’t. That’s not hate. That’s preference. And preferences, while uncomfortable to hear, are very human.
Marriage offers nuance. A woman gaining weight after twenty years with a loving husband—context changes everything. Commitment, history, and love weave together. But for single men in their prime, putting in work day after day, expecting attraction to overcome biology is a tall order. A great personality can forge a friendship—but physical chemistry is still part of the romantic equation.
Some women, not all—but enough to notice—construct narratives to explain away why they’re alone. “Men can’t handle my strength.” “I intimidate them.” Perhaps. But perhaps, too, it's worth glancing into the mirror with unfiltered honesty. The kind that asks hard questions and sits with the discomfort of real answers.
In every era, people have looked for reasons why love eludes them. Sometimes, the reasons are external—society, trauma, injustice. But often, they are internal. Wrapped in ego. Clothed in fear. Hidden in denial.
At the heart of this conversation is a need for authenticity—not polished video quotes, not curated personas. Just men and women, flawed and honest, willing to look inward as much as they look outward.
The truth may be harsh, but it’s real. And in the end, real is what love demands.
No comments:
Post a Comment