Man Oh Man

I never refer to the dudes I date as boys. I’m not in 7th grade. I date guys. Or at least I thought I did. Yesterday I was asked out by a man and I said yes. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.

I’m not exactly sure when guys become men, but once they do, there’s no turning back. I was a young woman at 18 and probably transitioned to full on woman at about 25. At least in my own mind. But guys take their sweet time becoming men, and I’m not sure if I’m happy about that or not.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what makes this man a man. He’s 40, so the age helps, but there are plenty of 40 year olds that wouldn’t make it to the man category. It’s not that he’s not age appropriate- in fact, he’s way more age appropriate than the 23 year old with whom I recently had a fling. It’s not that he’s not fairly hip- he has a great sense of humor and has an awareness of what’s going on around him. He’s got a full head of hair, young looking skin, and a doesn’t own a home. But there’s something about him that leads me to believe that if he ever sleeps over, he’ll bring his black leather toiletries bag with him.

He exudes a certain friendly confidence that says, “I sometimes wear a sleep mask at night and you will just have to deal.” It’s the same friendly confidence that says he might own maroon poly blend dress socks, drink manhattans and have no shame about his baseball card collection. It’s a confidence he wears as comfortably as he wears his navy blue terrycloth robe and brown slippers.

But the great thing about dating a man, is that they cut right to the damn chase. None of this “does he like me, or doesn’t he” crap. An evening of friendly conversation at an event was followed by an email the next day in which he asked me out. There was no need for me to put this email through the great female analyzation machine. He asked me out and that was that.

Maybe the thing that makes a man a man is the confidence. He’s not cocky. He just knows what he likes and wants and doesn’t apologize for it. Maybe 18 year old dudes would be wearing terrycloth robes if they weren’t so self conscious. Cause really- they just make good sense on a cold winter morning.

The beauty is that no matter if I date a boy, or a guy, or a man, there is one thing that doesn’t change. Fear of commitment. No matter what the age, level of confidence or fashion sense, a gal can always count on a guy to be terrified of commitment. But at least if I’m dating a man, in the midst of one of the inevitable cyclical relationship discussions that leave me with a pounding headache, I know I can find some aspirin in his black leather toiletry bag.