You may think you want the guy with the flashy car, the designer logos, and the curated social media life (aka “little dick energy.)” You may even think you’re winning when he takes you to expensive dinners, throws you gifts, or introduces you to a lifestyle that looks good on paper.
But I’ve seen how this story ends. And it’s not a fairy tale.
Most of the time, the guy flashing all that luxury? He’s compensating. For what, exactly, depends—but it’s always a hole. A need. An insecurity dressed up as achievement (cuffed PSA to young men).
He doesn’t want a partner. He wants a mirror. Someone to reflect the image he’s trying to project. Not someone who sees him. Not someone who challenges him. And definitely not someone who would ever stop orbiting around him.
He will give when it suits him. Withdraw when it doesn’t. And if you stay long enough, you’ll build your life around trying to keep him happy—until you realize you lost yourself somewhere along the way.
This isn’t theory. This is pattern. I’ve seen it happen again and again.
The woman stays, hoping it will settle into something real. They have kids. She gets tied to the life. And one day she wakes up—trapped. Dependent. Numb.
She didn’t keep her own income.
She didn’t keep a foot in her own world.
And now everything hinges on the emotional weather of a man-child who’s never grown up.
And the world will applaud you for it. They’ll call you lucky. They’ll say “he provides.” But deep down you’ll know—he never really saw you. He just chose you because you made him look good. Because you were quiet. Because you didn’t ask too much.
Please don’t build your life around that.
I have daughters. And this is what I tell them:
Always make your own money.
Never give up your career.
Keep one foot in the door, even if you raise a family.
Never rely on someone else—especially a man—for your survival.
Because love without independence isn’t love.
It’s leverage.
And when you finally stop pretending, you’ll find out he was never strong enough to carry both of you anyway.
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a man who needs attention will never know how to give you safety.
— author
A good friend of mine in Oregon used to say every man was still just a 12-year-old boy inside. (She is a mother with a son, who’s grown now, so I deferred to her statement.) I need to ask her to explain it more: did she mean Peter Pan syndrome or a generalization about omega males?
You make a shrewd point; humans with an affinity for appearances over substance — for the sizzle not the steak — are often slippery and shallow. But American culture trends ever-thinner toward the shallow end: the kids want to be Influencers as a job, they want the flash and fire clothes, the music that thumps for the grind but not lyricism. Most of us land high on the visual scale but low on auditory or empathy.
It’s hard to shift away from the surface focus, these superficialities, when the attention and accolades go to those with the most followers, the sickest kicks, the fastest ill-considered quip. I don’t see this improving; we are struggling collectively and culturally to reward the qualifies that yield strong partnerships and life-long friendships.
Bloody hell.