He starts making a movie. A beautiful one. With a soundtrack. And the main character is no longer the man who texted you "hi" last night—but some imaginary super-version of him. Smarter. More romantic. Braver. Well, basically—Henry Cavill 😂

And then we get offended. By a real man. Because he's not a character from our inner series.

I've been through this myself 🙈 I remember meeting a wonderful man. Warm, attentive, with a good sense of humor. But he didn't write me poetry at midnight. He didn't guess my thoughts instantly. He didn't show up at the door with flowers just because he "sensed you were sad." And I... got angry. Silently, inside, but I was angry. As if he owed me something. Even though he was just being himself.

And here's the thing:

Men don't owe us anything. They don't have to be the image we've spent years crafting from novels, movies, and other people's stories online. ✨ They're real. With their fears, fatigue, awkwardness, and—yes—their own beauty, if you only take the trouble to see it.

True intimacy doesn't begin when a person finally "lives up" to your expectations. It begins when you stop looking through them and start looking at them. 💛

This doesn't mean "agree to everything" or "don't have standards." Standards are important. But there's a huge difference between—he respects me and I feel safe—and—why doesn't he read my mind like Darcy from Pride and Prejudice? 😅

I think we all deserve, to a certain extent, to be accepted without a script.

And men too 🌿