MAYBE YOU’RE EXACTLY WHAT THEY NEED
I’ve written about a billion words on love and relationships, and every damn day it feels like there’s another billion waiting in line.
Not to sound like an old-school bastard set in his ways, but there are really only two kinds of men in this world: the strong and the weak. The line only gets blurry because men lie to themselves. Half the guys running around talking about how tough they are fold the second real life tests them, and the guys who think they’re broken are usually the ones carrying the heaviest weight.
Don’t hate the messenger. It’s just the truth.
The culture has completely lost its mind. Turn on your phone and it’s an endless sewer of garbage: age-gap paranoia, checklists, body counts, and bitter people preaching the gospel of “love only yourself and fuck everybody else.” We’ve reached a point where throwing your hands up and quitting seems like the only sane move left.
So let me give you the alternative.
Let’s say there’s someone you genuinely like. On paper, you don’t match. Maybe there’s an age gap. Maybe your worlds look completely different. You convince yourself they’ve got a specific “type,” and you don’t fit the mold you built in your own head.
You put on a confident face for the world, but inside you’re running through your mental resume, nitpicking every scar and every flaw, finding ten different reasons why you don’t belong in the room.
Look past the mental gymnastics for a second. You’re a good man. You’ve got a past — who doesn’t? — but you work hard, you live right, you stand on your own two feet, and you add value to this world instead of taking from it.
Yet you sit there disqualifying yourself because some clown on an app convinced you love is a transaction.
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Who in this universe told you that you aren’t the exact person they need?
Was it your ego? Your insecurity? Or did you just let a chorus of miserable strangers convince you to ignore your own gut?
Liking different movies or listening to different records doesn’t mean a damn thing. It has nothing to do with character. It has nothing to do with whether you can love someone with everything you’ve got. And it sure as hell has nothing to do with the person God chose for you.
Real connection doesn’t care about a spreadsheet. When someone actually speaks to your soul, the rest of the world stops.
A therapist would charge you three hundred dollars an hour to slap a clinical label on this and analyze your childhood. I’ll save you the money:
Kenny Rogers told us you’ve got to know when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em. But throwing your hand in the dirt before a single card has been dealt isn’t wisdom.
It’s just fucking stupid.
You could literally be looking at your future wife, and because of past scars and the opinions of idiots on the internet, you won’t even step up to the table. That’s not wisdom. That’s just fear dressed up as logic.
I judge myself by that same standard. Stop talking yourself out of the fight before the bell even rings. Step up, be honest about who you are, and see what happens.
The goal isn’t to be bulletproof. The goal is to stop being so damn stupid that you walk right past the best thing that ever looked back at you.
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