Skip to main content

For the Love of an Alpha Male

Throughout this process of moving and recovering from last week's surgery, I finally realized what it is about My Teddy Bear that vexes me -- he's not an Alpha male.

My family is (mostly) women, but the men who are there -- my brother, my uncle, even my cousins -- are men. They walk in, assess a situation, and handle it accordingly. We women might have input, but ultimately, the men that are around run the situation. We may not like the way they run it -- and we might complain mightily -- but they run it.

MTB doesn't do that. He may walk in and assess a situation, but he won't take charge. He waits for me. If you know me, you KNOW that's never good. Don't get it twisted -- I'm a leader and if it's something I know and understand, I can and frequently do take charge. But I realized that I am subconsciously trained to let a man take the lead in other situations. My brand of feminism is about being strong enough to take a step back. No matter how long I live on the northern side of the Mason-Dixon line, I am a Southern woman through and through.

So my Southern sensibilities meeting his Northern "women can do the same things that men can do" attitude isn't working out that well. When it's just us doing what we do, it's fine. But when there are situations that need him to have a take-charge attitude, there's a problem.

New Boo was Spanish. The machismo he operated under was perfect for me. Granted, his was a little overboard for my taste, but I understood it and it made me feel safe. I never had any fear about anything with him because I knew he could protect me. He was able to do and fix anything, and that gave me comfort. He broke me in ways that I still haven't healed from, but I appreciated his way.

My mother wasn't impressed with MTB. In addition to his size and look, she didn't understand his lack of Alpha maleness. She said to me, "I know he wants to marry you, but..." as she shook her head.  It took me a minute to understand what she meant, but now I understand.

It is completely over between New Boo and I, and unless God Himself makes it happen, we will probably never cross paths again. I hate that, but I know it's for the best. I miss him, but I know it's for the best.

My Teddy Bear is a good man. I don't know just how good he'll ultimately be for me. At this point, I know we're still learning each other so I don't want to make any definitive statements. However, I know he's gonna have to step up for me.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

He's Gone...For Real

My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this. Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me. He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad. I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body. I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation). That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significan...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Middle Aged Rant

I am single. I’ve never had a husband. I’ve never given birth to a child. I’ve never lived with a man over six months. I am 54. I’m not classically pretty. I’m overweight. I’m not very tall. My brother says I’m a unicorn. My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small. My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband. I try not to be sad about my state. I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable. I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world. I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling. Men don’t always like that. Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed. Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t. Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change my life – not that I want to. I can’t change my past – not that I want to. I can’t change myself –not that I want to. I just want someone to see me, not the image I present. I want...
Post a Comment
Read more

I Own My Tears

I own my tears. I used this as a hashtag on a Facebook post. I was talking about the movie, "The Fault in Our Stars." If you've seen it, you know what I mean, and I won't spoil it for you. Of course, you know me -- it's deeper than that. I need to say it out loud... I own my tears. New Boo meant the world to me. He really did. Our relationship meant the world to me. It really, really did. And now it's over and he's gone -- seemingly for good. That makes me cry more than I want to, and more than I have ever imagined I would. And while I hate it, I need to do this. I need to mourn this thing in its entirety because it has truly changed my life. I own my tears. I own the fact that I am hurt. I own the fact that I'm mourning a relationship that I wanted to work more than life itself. I wanted to be a part of a couple, and eventually a family. That may well happen for me one day. Today, though, it doesn't look likely. So yes, I cry. And you ...
1 comment
Read more