With countless tattoos and multiple facial piercings I am beginning to wonder if I am scaring nice guys away. I’ve dated a parade of tattoo artists, musicians and straight weirdos, but now I am ready to date the “boy next door.” You know, the guy in the polo shirt with the office job.
To meet him, should I shove up my septum ring up my nose and start wearing argyle sweaters? As things get hot and heavy and my shirt flies off, should I tell him I was held down by a group of psychos who tatted me just like in “American Horror story: Freak Show”? Or should I just be me – tattoos and all – and hope to meet a nice guy just as I am?
The struggle is real.
There is a stigma that a girl like me must be on drugs or have some serious dependency issues. The truth is I don’t even drink alcohol. I do enjoy instant coffee, but I swear I’ve never snorted it. I practice clean eating, own a house, a car (and it’s not in the shop) and I also have a stellar career. I’m a great catch. Men just have to get past my exterior, an exterior that I happen to like.
It’s such a double standard: women love a bad boy appearance but when roles are reversed a woman gets no action.
What’s a girl to do? This girl is going to keep hoping for the “guy next door.” A good, clean-cut guy that has the balls to date me despite my alternative style. I want a man who isn’t afraid to take me home to momma. I want to be a part of someone’s crazy family and wear ugly sweaters on Christmas.
Thing is I won’t change who I am for any man, and a man who is worth my time would never ask me to change. I’ll be waiting.