Lust is colour blind

Why are we so quick to be colour blind when it comes to matters of the heart?

Women possess an endless list of natural talents, like the ability to multitask, endure pain for beauty, nurture, apply great attention to detail, be sympathetic and patient… just to name a few. What some of us lack (and by some, I mean me) is the ability to reason with our inner Charlotte York when our heart is in the driver’s seat en-route to Mr Unavailable. Something I failed to mention as the exception to the rule for my last two posts. Road-blocks need not apply when the heart rules the head. Actually, now that I think of it, pretty much nothing factors in when you think it’s the guy of your dreams in your bed; no matter how many red flags you come across. It’s the same as how we can justify a $700 Rachel Gilbert dress when we already have at least three almost-identical ones in the wardrobe; or the new pair of Peep Toe heels because the cost-per-wear will reduce them from being $300 to $50 (I know you know what I’m talking about). I’ll put my hand up; I am guilty for justifying the unnecessary (but invaluable) purchases… and I am most certainly guilty for letting my heart justify the most ridiculous actions i.e. why I saved a new toothbrush for the guy who added me on Facebook as the first means of contact after sleeping together (note: red flag number one). And that was only the beginning. The clincher was the moment I decided I was going to man-up and tell this Facebook friend how I felt. After a long day spent together through another chance encounter, (God forbid he would actually ask me out on a date – red flag number two) he was back in my bedroom. This time, I sat him down and poured out my true feelings (please stop cringing). The fact he was still in my bed the next morning would suggest the response to this confession was positive, right? Er, wrong. “Sorry, I don’t get emotionally attached” was how the reply began. You would think this would set off loud warning bells in my head with flashing red flags appearing all around, but all I could hear was “but I think you’re amazing” and the clothes were off. It’s astounding, being the smart girl that I am, how many red flags I ignored for one small and insignificant white flag and nothing – not the year it took for him to use my phone number (red flag), the conversations he had in front of me about other girls (red flag) or the cold goodbyes after dropping him home (hello? Red flag) – could argue with the silly hopeless romantic inside. It’s no surprise how this ended. We were not only on different pages; we were on different chapters in different books, but I only have myself to blame. I ignored all the red flags that were staring at me in the face, and honestly, what guy is going to say no to a free ride (so to speak)? So why are we so quick to be colour blind when it comes to matters of the heart? Perhaps it’s more about the challenge of the red flags. I’m sure I’m not the first girl to accept this type of mission – but you soon discover it’s a mission you will only accept once and, if failed, never attempt again. Trust me, when red flags present themselves, don’t channel your inner bull, cut him off. So, to recap on my posts so far: we can’t sleep with a guy we don’t have a connection with, we shouldn’t sleep with a guy we have a connection with if he doesn’t feel that connection, we shouldn’t sleep with a guy right away… All these self-imposed rules are making it pretty damn hard to get any action! Surely that’s it for the sex-regulations?