Why do you keep thinking that women have higher status than you? Do you really think they don't have issues? Come on. You've convinced yourself of this...so in your head it's true.

Let me build you up for a second. Do you realize that as you get older:

* You'll probably make more money

* You'll become distinguished looking

* You can have kids until you're somewhere around 120 years old

In other words, your stock is rising. Why do you act like its falling? If you still think they have higher status then, consider how it is for a hot woman:

* Every minute of everyday, they're getting older looking and are hating it

* They can't have kids forever

* They think emotionally first and logically second

* The right guys rarely approach them

* They're competing with younger women for the same men

* The average women get all the sex *

ETC.

I want to be clear that I'm not putting women down in any way. All I'm doing is pointing out some reasons that you should be more confident when approaching.

Putting it simply:

We get to choose who to approach.

They get to pick from who approaches them.

Really really think about that.

Putting it simply:

We get to choose who to approach.

They get to pick from who approaches them.

Really really think about that.

The funny thing that I basically operate in the inverse of this...sorta.

I determine who is jockin me...then, from that pool of interested females, I choose the one(s) that I like the best.

@peregrinus and Kidd

why don't women approach (in general...)?

@peregrinus and Kidd

why don't women approach (in general...)?

I know that they don't 'have to' because they are getting approached. But at the same time you always hear women bitching that they get approached by the wrong kind of guys.
So I was thinking: why don't they just approach the guys they really want in a more direct way

They do, its just most guys want slapping round the face before they notice.

...women approach guys completely differently then guys approach them, which is why you have to be aware.

Sadie Hawkins Day — traditionally celebrated on Nov. 15 — was the one day a year when it was the girls who pursued the boys, instead of the other way around. It was big back then, if less so now.

I always envied the girls who seemed so peaceful waiting for boys to talk to them; I wasn’t of that tribe. My mother used to shake her head and say, “Just let them come to you,” but I was no good at biding my time. In sixth grade, I asked a boy I liked if he liked me; in freshman year of college, I asked a man I was attracted to if he felt the same. In each case, I felt that something was wrong with me for having brought up the topic. I was too much like a guy, I thought. But even then, I was asking them about their desires, not speaking my own.

As I got older, I developed other methods for getting a man to make the first move: bumping into him as we walked together, shivering with unfelt cold, standing fetchingly on steps that would bring me to his eye level — all so he’d be overtaken with desire and, for God’s sake, kiss me. So much work, this active passivity — but I never considered kissing any of them first. After all, what worse insult can a man give a woman than “She wanted it,” a phrase that carries its own sneer.

So the reason that afternoon is still so bright in my memory, why I can still feel the metal chain of the swing in my hand, see Matthew’s smile: Sadie Hawkins was a day of respite from pretending not to want, or from distorting my want into a hint.

Until it is no big deal for a woman to say, “I want,” as well as “I don’t want” — until heterosexual women no longer feel the need to wait for the man to propose or to invite us to the prom or to kiss us on a beautiful summer evening when we want to kiss — we leave ourselves at the mercy of men’s desires.

Sadie Hawkins should be any and every day we choose.

As I got older, I developed other methods for getting a man to make the first move: bumping into him as we walked together, shivering with unfelt cold, standing fetchingly on steps that would bring me to his eye level — all so he’d be overtaken with desire and, for God’s sake, kiss me.

Until it is no big deal for a woman to say, “I want,” as well as “I don’t want” — until heterosexual women no longer feel the need to wait for the man to propose or to invite us to the prom or to kiss us on a beautiful summer evening when we want to kiss — we leave ourselves at the mercy of men’s desires.