I used to be one of those girls absolutely obsessed with finding Mr. Perfect. When I was younger I hoped a handsome prince on horseback would sweep me off my feet, but then I grew up and realized no man could live up to the impossible standards of my imagination. Genuine love is about accepting your partner for everything he is, faults and all.
But let’s be real, ladies—don’t you wish your man was a little cleaner, more passionate, and less racially bigoted?
Admit it, chicas, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You meet a cute guy who seems super into you, and you start thinking you might have found the one. You hear wedding bells and begin picking baby names. But just as soon as things heat up, they instantly cool down when you discover his apartment is a complete mess, or he’s a total bore in the sack, or he harbors a deep, seething hatred for all people with dark skin.
The only white sheets my man should be concerned about are the ones on my queen-size mattress and not those he wears to disguise his identity during white supremacy rallies.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint myself. I have my own imperfections that I’m constantly striving to overcome. I hold myself to a high standard, so why shouldn’t I hold a potential love interest to the same standard? That’s why I turn myself around and walk right out the door whenever a guy lets dirty dishes pile up in the sink, or can’t muster the words to express how he truly feels, or the only words he can muster are derogatory slurs hurled at immigrant families at the mall.
Call me picky, but I won’t settle for anything less than a well-groomed man who makes his bed every morning, holds my hand in public, and believes our differences are what make us beautiful and not criteria to determine who lives or dies if a widespread racial cleansing were ever to occur.
I mean, is that really too much to ask?
I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll never be Mrs. Ryan Gosling, but I refuse to give my heart to someone who’d rather hang out with his guy friends drinking beer and burning crosses on black people’s lawns than take me on a romantic picnic in the park. I want a romance that’s red hot, but that’s not what I mean! After all, the only white sheets my man should be concerned about are the ones on my queen-size mattress and not those he wears to disguise his identity during white supremacy rallies.
Like I said, I try not to get caught up in overly romantic notions like love at first sight. Relationships are hard work and built on compromise. And maybe I’m just being stubborn, but if a guy has poor hygiene, isn’t a total pro in the bedroom, or is being questioned in connection to a series of racially motivated assaults dating back to 2012, I’m simply not willing to budge one inch. I’m a woman who knows what she wants, and—sorry, boys—an unkempt sexual novice dedicated to preserving the genetic purity of the white race is so not one of them.
Sure, sometimes I wonder if my expectations are too high. A couple months ago I was seeing this guy with a great job and an even better bod. It was going really well, too, but all his gross habits started rubbing me the wrong way. For example, he always chewed with his mouth open and had a swastika tattooed on his forehead. So gross! No one wants to see that. Eventually I had enough and kicked him to the curb.
But maybe, just maybe, if I had tried harder to accept that he was always leaving the toilet seat up and picking fights with Hispanic teenagers outside convenience stores, we could have made it work. Am I too unwilling to tolerate a guy’s weird quirks? Could I be part of the problem?
Heck no, I think to myself, don’t start thinking that way, girl. Beyoncé wouldn’t put up with a skinhead who can’t say “I love you,” and neither should you.
It might get lonely searching for a guy who’s perfectly imperfect, but I’m willing to wait it out until he finally comes along.