It’s commonly assumed that Nice Guys finish last; that we of the female persuasion only want the Bad Boys who don’t give a second thought to us. All the while, these Nice Guys sit there, patiently waiting for us to notice that they’ve been there all along, loving us as we are.
Pardon my language, but bullshit.
I won’t pretend that the whole “want what you can’t have” dichotomy exists, but it seems to go unnoticed that, as always, there are two sides to this story. The Nice Guy’s problem might just be that he’s constantly chasing the wrong girls.
The Nice Guy complains that girls are whiny, manipulative, and oblivious; that we think we can treat them one way and expect to be treated another. It seems that the Nice Guy is lured in by the Bad Girl, just as we females are supposedly lured in by the Bad Boy. The heart of the problem, then, is that the Bad Girl is the one who sticks in the memory, becoming a blanket definition for the female population.
And because of this, it’s the Nice Girl who finishes last.
This one is for all of the girls who have ever fallen in love with their best friend. This is for the girls who are the back-up dates, the last-resort fake girlfriends, and the ones who hear all too often, “if I’m 40 and still single, I’ll totally marry you.” This is for all of the times you have given him advice on his newest girl issue. Not real advice, either, but the kind of advice that tells him exactly what he wants to hear, like “Oh, she’s definitely got a brother named Josh, and they definitely just have an oddly close, borderline incestual relationship. That’s why she keeps saying his name when you make out.” This is for every time you’ve reassured him that she’s only playing games with him because she likes him, all the while wishing you could give her a piece of your mind. For all the times you took him to a movie full of explosions and boobs (and let him eat all of the popcorn) when she broke his heart – because it turns out she was playing games with him and two other guys – this is for you.
This is for all of the times she’s asked you what to get him for Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and his birthday, and you’ve given her the perfect idea, only to be forced to hear him gush about how awesome and thoughtful she is for six months afterwards. This is for all of the times you’ve taken him shopping, trying on various sizes while reassuring the sales associates that no, it’s not for you; no, you’re not together, no way; yes, really, you’re just friends. For all of the times he has forgotten your birthday after you painstakingly came up with the second-best, super-personal, borderline-romantic yet platonically-cool present for his birthday – after giving the best one to her – this is for you.
This is for every time you’ve unabashedly watched 13 Going On 30 and wished for magic dust and a homemade Jenna’s dream house that erased all of the mistakes you’ve made, picking you up out of the friend zone and landing you at your wedding, a newly minted Mrs. Flamhaff. This is for all of the times you’ve blasted Taylor Swift when no one was home, screaming passionately into a hairbrush; why can’t he see he belongs with you? This is for the hours you spent watching and re-watching 27 Dresses, trying to decipher exactly how it is you are supposed to find your real-life James Marsden. For all the times you’ve dated someone else in hopes of getting over him – only to, once again, decide that you can’t and maybe never will – this is for you.
This is for the unrequited lovers. This is for every girl who has experienced the torture of watching him be with someone else while your heart breaks into a million little pieces. This is for every letter written, page upon page upon page, only to be ripped up and thrown out in search of some cathartic purging that never materializes. This is for every girl who has ever briefly wished to be the kind of girl who could be whiny, manipulative, and oblivious; the kind of girl that the Nice Guy seems to chase. For every time you’ve been told how great you are – and how awesome it is that you’re just “one of the guys” – this is for you.
Dear Nice Girl, I’d like to thank you on behalf of all of the people who haven’t but should have. Thank you for swallowing your pride, your anger, and your sorrow. Thank you for taking with dignity the emotional turmoil thrown at you.
Someday, someone is going to see you for everything amazing that you are, and that list of amazing things will not include your talents as a “bro.” They will love you from day one, and you will never just be “one of the guys,” and they will never ask for your advice on gifts for another girl. You might still go to movies full of explosions and boobs, but it will be on your terms, and you will get to eat at least half of the popcorn. You won’t have to deal with nosy sales associates – who, by the way, seem much less interested in your relationship status when you’re actually in a relationship – and you won’t have to share your gift ideas. In the end, you might not have magic wishing dust and a dream house, but you won’t need it; what you’ll have will be so much better.
Your real-life James Marsden is just around the corner. He’ll make you laugh when you feel like breaking things, your dad will love him, and if he isn’t perfect, he’ll be perfect for you. Your day is coming; I guarantee it.