The manicorn has wash-board abs but accepts us as we are; educated but not prudish; beautiful but not vain; a good guy yet a bad boy. He puts his woman's needs before his own - always listens, always patient. He desires a family including a dog and white picket fence. He wants to hang out with your mom and babysit your nephew and nieces. He knows what you need before you do and showers you with gifts of various kinds.He is never selfish, hates sports, waits on you hand and foot, cries when you cry, laughs when you laugh; and above all else, worships the very ground you walk on.
----------------
"Oh my, you can even filter height and salary!" I observed as my friend tweaked her search results on Match.com. "This is like 'build a bear' but better. It's 'build a man,'" I said as I briefly considered the dating scene online.
I've met them in church, at restaurants, been set up... why not online? I can search and tweak, then tweak and search. Sign me up!
If only it were that simple then everyone would be signed up, and I'd already have 2.5 children living in the suburbs. Unfortunately, the manicorn is elusive for a reason, the reason being he doesn't exist.
Why do we women hold such high standards for men yet not hold them for ourselves? I have come to realize the perfect man doesn't exist, neither does the perfect woman. Now does that mean I should settle for Joe Schmo off the street? No, but maybe I should be a little more forgiving.
People shouldn't be defined by salary or height or some other ridiculous standard. Don't get me wrong; I don't want to be a sugar momma, neither do I want a troll of a boyfriend. But just because he doesn't make a seven figure salary doesn't mean he won't be a good provider.
Get out your list. Come on; you have one. Whether tucked away in your diary or tucked away secretly in your mind, you have one. And too many times we dismiss others if they don't fit it perfectly.
I know you're wanting me to stop before I tell you Noah on the Notebook doesn't exit. I can see you now, alone in your room as the rain rolls down your window pane while listening to Taylor Swift. Stop your crying.
The next time you dismiss Mr. Not So Perfect, look in the mirror and ask yourself if you're so perfect.
