A Lesson for Girls: How to Get a Guy to Fall in Love with You

The first time a guy told me he loved me and meant it, I was probably 16. It was sixteen-year-old love, full of promise and alcohol that our older friends' brothers' bought us. It was shaped like a backseat and it smelled like summer.

Over the course of my adult life, I've heard it a lot from different men. And if it sounds like I'm gloating, please understand. I'm not.

All this is bullshit.

Not because it's not true. I have heard it. And for the most part, the men who said it to me were good men. Kind and loving and honest. And for the most part, the relationships I was in when I heard them were real and fulfilling and scary and chock full hope that this was it. 

But those relationships ultimately ended.

Why? Well, darling girls. I have to blame myself. Turns out, I'm a liar. Not the kind that does intentionally hurtful things. But the kind that shape-shifted with the dexterity of a superhero until those men were convinced that I was the perfect girl for them.

And you can't blame them, because the girl I CREATED was perfect. I wanted so badly to be that perfect girl that I convinced myself that I really was her. The girl that didn't mind waiting, who laughed at jokes around his friends even though they were ignorant and dumb, who professed to kinda liking UFC, but actually absolutely hated it.

The truth is - the girl I am under all that, beneath the agreeability, and the patience I demonstrate when I'm left waiting for 45 minutes because he forgot we had plans - she most definitely is not perfect for these decent men. But she got snuffed out. And that is why shit never worked out.

That other girl, that REAL girl, is actually angry, and difficult, and a giant pain in the ass. She is impatient and takes up all the space on the bathroom sink. She gets homicidal about traffic congestion. She doesn't like waiting for a reply to text messages. She doesn't like waiting for anything, actually. She loves strawberry shortcake and head rubs. And she isn't interested in anything anyone has to say before like, 9am.

I spent a long time thinking THAT girl, the real one, was unloveable because she required too much work. So she got smothered by agreeability, because agreeability made her likeable and malleable. And also intensely resentful and restless and unsatisfied.

My point here is this - if you want to get on the fast track to making a guy fall in love with you - bisect who you are. Cut it in half. Make it less. Make it sweet. Make it palatable. Listen out for cues like, "I love athletic girls," and then promptly go out and buy some Norts. I promise you, professions of undying love will pour in.

But be warned - it will be empty-calorie love. It will never satiate you. You will go to sleep next to men who leave you hungry. And they will be left wanting too. Because you will be angel food cake - light, hollowed out like a pore, spongy and sweet and ultimately empty.

Not interested in emotionally starving, you say? Try this instead:

Don't laugh at things that aren't funny. Don't agree to go to a Brantley Gilbert concert if you think it'll suck (which it will). Laugh loudly. Don't shave above the knee if you don't want to. Say no to things you don't like without feeling like you have to explain yourself. Opt for binge watching Twin Peaks on Saturday night instead of heading out for another rollicking evening of Natty Light beer pong. Wear flowers in your hair. Get dirt on your feet. Bowl with abandon. Let go of the notion of cool. Like weird things.

Make them question you.

Make them rise to the occasion that IS you.

Because when you're a REAL girl -- a beautiful, messy, complicated one -- and a man -- a good, strong, sturdy, honest, loyal, kind, inexhaustible one -- comes along and says I love you, it will be the best sounding I love you. It will distinguish itself from everything else you've ever heard. It will sound like the next 60 years of your life. It will be full-fat love. It will be nutrient-dense with honesty. It will wait out the storm and the hour it takes for you to get ready without bitching.

It will be exactly what you want because you will KNOW what you want. And you'll know what you want because you stopped compromising who you were for hollow 'almosts.' I promise, you will know the difference.

Quality over quantity, ladies. Always.