There is this very specific feeling of confidence you get when you realize you hold the power to never chase a man again.
Let them wonder.
And, for the record, I did not always understand this.
I wouldn’t call my actions immoral, but I was deeply committed to the bit. It took me a while to understand if a man actually liked me. When a man pulled away, I was already halfway across the city, trying to figure out what had happened.
I had questions, and I wanted answers. I wanted clarity on what we were, where this was going and why you had suddenly stopped reaching out to me.
It was exhausting. Mostly for me.
Then, after getting played, I learned the best thing you can do with a man is absolutely nothing. It’s not a punishment, a game or an act to make him jealous.
Playing in a man’s face, as I have come to understand it, is less about manipulation and more about composure.
It’s allowing a date to end without jumping into the question of, “When can I see you again?” And when he says he’ll call you, let him call you.
There was a time when I thought if I wanted something, I needed to make it happen. If I liked a man, I needed him to know. I would try everything in my power to keep him from slipping away, which eventually would lower my self-esteem.
Now I understand that a man should occasionally have to sit alone with his thoughts and think, “I wonder what she’s doing?”
The thing about playing in a man’s face is that the best type of players aren’t actually playing.
You make yourself busy: going to dinner with friends, taking the long road home, answering your emails. Laughing at a text from someone who isn’t chasing you. Live a life that existed before this person arrived and will continue when they’re gone.
People confuse being wanted with being pursued. You think if you can keep a man interested, you would win. But what happens when you stop measuring your worth by how often someone wants you?
You become difficult to bother.
You don’t need to ignore a man or make him jealous. You definitely don’t need to post something on your Instagram with a hidden message, hoping he’d understand it (they never do).
That just comes across as unpaid work, and real composure looks less dramatic. It looks like allowing people to reveal themselves.
A man pulling away is not a puzzle but rather information, which is way more useful when you don’t intervene with it.
You may eventually realize you don’t want a relationship when you constantly have to encourage someone to be present.
You don’t want to be the star of a one-woman show where a man occasionally appears in the background.
The moment you stop asking, “How do I make him like me?” and start asking, “Do I even like him?” that’s when your mindset changes.
Maybe that’s what I was trying to figure out all along.
But he can wonder.
