At some point in my future, there is going to come a time when I’m ready to find the last girl I will ever date before I settle down. Some people have some pretty specific ideas about the kind of person they’d like their ideal girl to be. Sexy, intelligent, and funny are some of the adjectives that may come to mind. But if truly pressed, I can narrow down my list of qualifications to a single, wholly-encompassing word: normal.
That’s all I really want — a normal girl. I have to be attracted to her physically, obviously, but I’m not shooting for anything out of the ballpark when it comes to something long-term. A girl who I can look at and be inherently attracted to, but nothing more. And there’s good reason for that. The hottest girls also tend to be the craziest, the most high-maintenance, the girls who crave the most attention and need the most validation. My own personal opinion tells me that shit is exhausting.
In addition, nothing beats a girl who is grounded mentally. A girl that acts rationally, makes informed decisions, and learns to temper her emotions. Not a girl who is a pushover, but a girl who comports herself like a real human being. A girl who has the perspective to know that when her friend Instagrams their shared brunch before her, it isn’t an act of passive-aggressive social sabotage, or that she won’t actually die when Starbucks runs out of cinnamon dolce topping. A girl that can go out to a bar, see someone she had a disagreement with in the past, and not feel the need to have a night-ruining drama display.
At one point in my life, I thought that I had found myself a normal girl. And so, one night, I decided to tell her how much I appreciated this seemingly difficult-to-find quality. Here’s a brief synopsis of how that conversation went down:
Me: Hey, you know how great you are, right? You’re such a normal girl, it’s pretty awesome.
Girl: Excuse me?
Me: I mean, I appreciate the fact that you’re a normal girl. It’s a good thing.
Girl: I don’t understand. Are you saying that I’m just some average girl? Because that’s what it sounds like.
Me: No, no, I mean you’re just a normal, rational person and I appreciate that.
Girl: So I’m not special to you? Just some everyday girl off the streets? That’s what it sounds like you’re saying. That’s probably the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.
Me: No, it’s a compliment. It’s hard to find a normal girl and I appreciate that you are one of them.
Girl: Well, I thought you cared about me because I was unique and special to you, not some “normal” girl you can just find anywhere.
Me: I’m sorry, I guess? I really didn’t mean it like that. I was trying to tell you how much I liked you.
Girl: I think you should leave.
Needless to say, I learned a hard lesson that day. No girl wants to feel like she is anything less than different, distinct, and dissimilar to every other girl out there, no matter the context. Calling a girl average or regular is the worst thing you can do. Apparently, the word normal now falls into that same category. I meant it with the best of intentions, one of the highest personal praises that I can give a girl, but it got turned back around on me in a heartbeat.
But here’s the thing: I have no problem with it. Call me normal all you want; I’ll take it as a compliment. If the shoe fits, right? But not so with the female psyche. Normal equals basic, and basic means average, and average is a horrible thing. My advice? Don’t tell her what she is; tell her what she isn’t. Not crazy, not fat, not weird in the sack. Better to focus on the negatives than try to laud the positives.
So here’s to a normal guy trying to find a normal girl. Maybe I’ll find her one day, we’ll see, but either way, you can bet one thing: I won’t be telling her when I do..