I Wanted to be a Womanizer

I learned about healthy relationships the long painful way...

I had all the moves. I was physically attractive enough and had a line of bull that would make pants fall off by themselves. I dated two beauty queens in high school at the same time. While in college, I would go to strip clubs and seduce strippers into paying for my drinks. Hell, I visited prostitutes in my twenties, and one asked me to come back and see her on her day off.

I was schooled by the best. I had uncles who were womanizers and peers as early has middle school to teach me the ropes. Enough rope to hang myself. One of them summed up my philandering aspirations with a playground joke. At recess, my seventh-grade buddies and I were discussing whether to join the 4-H Club (A character-building program for youth). Larry was the oldest and most experienced, and probably the most daring of our posse. He said he was going to join the 4-F’s instead of 4-H. We took the bait and asked him what it was. He replied, “That’s what you do with girls - Find ‘em, Feel ‘em, Fuck ‘em, and Forget ‘em.”

The acronym both appalled me and enthralled me at the same time. I was beginning to experience some of the sexual preliminaries and couldn’t wait to do the second half of the 4-F’s. I wanted to do that as often as I could. On the other hand (the one I wasn’t constantly jerking off with), I sensed that this would collide with my stubborn tendency to care about people.

I stumbled into adult life full of conflict. I loved women and sex and the ego boost only a beautiful woman could bring, but I was also a compassionate person who never wanted to hurt anyone. I would go on the hunt, but I could smell vulnerability like a hound dog. My hard-on would get distracted by my hard-wired desire for human dignity. Unfortunately, my prey always had a story, usually including cruelty and betrayal and, like me, she was wounded already. I couldn’t be the salt. I could bullshit, but I couldn’t exploit.

This struggle between my two selves brought pleasure and pain, adventure and ennui, as I mechanically acted out the script of a player with the alter-ego of a referee. For years I competed on the hookup field, on any given day not ever knowing if I was horny or lonely. In my thirties, I finally noticed the pattern. Go for the connection, almost connect, disconnect. Shower and repeat. Whether I had sex or not it was always the same. Each encounter produced deeper loneliness and a sense that something was missing.

Turned out nothing was missing; there was just something there that wasn’t working anymore. It was my need to prove something. I couldn’t settle for being A man, I had to be THE man. I would have no choice but to objectify women if I objectified myself. Having this narrow, artificial concept of manhood deprived me of an authentic self and made real connection impossible.

I sucked at being a womanizer, but I got lucky in a different way. After my final failed relationship, I was in a motel room one night, by myself and desperately lonely. I had an amazing, transformative experience. I was crying and felt that I would never find love. After a while my arms, almost without any intention on my part, wrapped around me and I soon realized I was hugging myself. The words, “I love you” kept repeating in my head like a song worm. I was comforting myself and fully accepting myself for the first time that night.

I drove away the next morning with a sense of self-sufficiency that I had never known. If I had to be “single” for the rest of my life, I could survive. For a while, I became the opposite of an “incel” - a “volcel,” if you will. Not long after that, I found my life partner and, because I didn’t need her, I could see her clearly. I could choose mindfully and freely and, happily, she chose me as well.

Today, a more authentic self is writing this. I don't regret the past because I was lost and followed a script written by others. It's not about guilt; it's about growth.

I hope that the men reading this are getting the point. No one can prove your worthiness or your specialness because you already have it. It is like looking for your eyeglasses when they’re already on your head. We are all special, and equal at the same time. We don’t need an ‘other.’ to be grounded, but when we have one, a gently invigorating current can flow through this connection. We don’t need that 'other' to feel complete, but its’ delightfully sweet when we completely feel the presence of another. But we will never know that feeling unless we embrace ourselves lovingly exactly as we are.