In Greek mythology, the Sirens were dangerous and beautiful creatures, portrayed as femme fatales who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music and voices to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island.
I’ve watched a few men be lured by the Siren’s song, only to be left curb side, outside of bars, clubs, and expensive restaurants…their egos shipwrecked.
I joke that I should start a therapy group for them. In this circle, I would sit on my chair, cross my legs, push my glasses up my nose, rest my elbow on my knee and my chin in my hand and say…
“Soooooooo. What were you thinking?”
There she was, beautiful, sparkling, and vivacious. You approached full of vim and vigor. She laughed and smiled her dangerous smile and in many instances said, “you can’t handle me.”, “I’ll destroy you.”, or even better, “You’re my new pal!”
There you stood, credit card in hand, ready to run up a tab to prove her wrong. Some of you were successful; you got a phone number! Maybe even a date. She told you that you were one of many suitors…all of you vying for the chance to be with a woman who doesn’t want to be a wife or a girlfriend. Neither did you, right? Win-win.
So you tried and many of you failed. You threw effort, emotion, and money at a lost cause. Your friends would call you “pussy whipped” – except you weren’t actually getting any pussy.
I would call you…
Stupid and egotistical.
Sirens are for the Ancient Greeks…men who knew no better…tricked by magic.
You? You just got tricked by your own ego.
The moment she said you would not succeed, you let your pride convince you that you would. To the casual observer, you chasing after her and all her whims made you look “weaker” or “foolish”. But you knew what you were doing. Your mistake was thinking that you were doing it right.
Want a clue? Watch her friends and how THEY treat you. They know what you’ve done to get this far. What you’ve given up. What you’ve compromised on. That look of sympathy that they’re giving you is not sympathy my darling boy. It’s pity. They pity your willful ignorance.
Oh…don’t even try to tell me that you fell for this Siren. Don’t. What did you fall for exactly? Tell me…what’s her middle name? Her favourite food? What makes laugh? What does she do that makes you laugh? No. You can’t. You fell for the sparkling, beautiful, illusion. The shiny trophy. The one you thought that if you showered it with gifts, attention, and favours it would be all yours to claim.
You regarded her as a thing to have, not a women you could love. This is why you failed.
Especially you, the one who wasn’t her type in any way. But she found you fun to hang out with. So you whipped out your credit card and paid for her drinks (although you were unemployed), you got drunk, you made passes, you even told your friend that you brought along that one night that “there’s this beautiful girl…” implying that she was yours. Even though she would call you her “pal”, and try to introduce you to (read: palm you off on) other women.
You mistook my disdain as envy. You shrugged off my warnings that you were wasting your time as jealousy. You tried to make a pal out of me because you thought that I would use my influence to win you favor. You got mad with me when I told you that you could do better for yourself.
But you didn’t want “better”…you wanted that beautiful shiny trophy to show off to all your friends.
Did you really think that by meeting every challenge, you’d come out ahead? That by giving her everything she wanted, she would in turn, want you?
I know. I know. Trust me. I KNOW. You think this will work. But really, it only makes her respect you even less than she did to begin with. In time, she will become bored with you…and just like that…
She’ll be gone. You served her purpose. She’s on to the next. You and your ego will be left curbside. Shipwrecked.
You’ll join the circle with the others. Confused about how this happened.
Don’t worry. I’ll be here. Chin in hand with my elbow resting on my knee. I’ll push my glasses up on my face and I’ll ask you…
So. What were you thinking?