The Sun News

Self-help doesn’t kill, does it?

man

Don’t lie, how many times have you seen a guy and not only did your heart skip a beat but you actually went weak at the knees? He was not naked but all you could see was his firm six-pack, each muscle rippling with every little movement, his deep voice, smooth skin… Girl, snap out of it! You were practically staring. It took all your mental energy and strict upbringing not to blurt out something like: Gosh, dude, it is a sin for one man to be this good-looking. You took a deep breath, and dashed into the nearest bathroom to regain composure.
Yeah, you are smiling right now, right? You are single and ready to mingle but the single guys seem to have all relocated to outer space or somewhere close. Frustrating, right? You’ve tried online dating and almost got into all kinds of trouble. You have even succumbed to matchmaking gigs by friends and family and where did that lead? Nowhere, because the guys you ended up with were the choices of your friends and cousin, not really yours. And here you are 37 going on 47 and still on the shelf, gathering dust. The guys are simply not asking : ‘how now?’, according to Pastor Adeboye.
It is not just because you ain’t getting younger, though that is a major big deal you can practically feel your eggs frying and your biological clock ticking louder and faster than ever. It is because you are beautiful and smart, with a great job and nice manners to boot. So, what’s there not to like or ‘rush’? Are the guys just plain blind or this is just a case of witches and wizards from your village at work? Indeed, you have tried one or two spiritual things. Yes now, were you not at the singles three-day pray-until-something-happens on the mountain three months ago? Is that cross you wear as a pendant day and night not the one the prophet blessed and told you to wear everywhere so Mr Right can locate you before this 2016 ends? The year is folding up its tent and your status has only moved from Miss to Ms and you feel totally messed up. So, are you going to just curl up and cry yourself to death and despair or you are going to do something extra, something new, like self-help? Hey, not the cucumber kind. Get your mind out of the gutter, please.
Sure, what we were all taught growing up is it is the man’s job to make the first move. The girl’s job is to look as pretty as possible. You can act coy or watch him from under your innocent lashes, but you must never ever make the first move. Only cheap girls do that! I can picture you mum waving her warning finger at you like a sword. But is that analogue and old-fashioned and not 21st century compliant or what?
You don’t want to be the cheap girl, yet the eligible guys are more expensive than the dollar in Nigeria of 2016. Is it absolutely unholy to say: how now, to a guy and see how it goes? I mean, what’s the worst thing that can happen? He’ll say no in the worst possible way. Translation, he was badly brought up, he’s a bush man whose only claim to 21st century is his nice suit. Dust him off like a bad speck on your designer sleeve and move on. I know that’s easier said than done but remind me to tell you again the story of how a friend of mine made a bushman shrivel in public.
Ok, how did this topic even came to be? Why are we not discussing Ondo elections and all the drama there? Why are we not discussing Baba Obasanjo and his 500 children at the National Assembly? Well, I like good drama better than bad drama. I prefer happy endings to drawn daggers at dawn. What shall it profit my readers if they read dreary stories of recession all week and I still serve them political tales of woe on Sunday? Besides, I would not feel good if I didn’t give you this gist from my Girls’ Day Out.
Biola is 44, divorced with twin sons who are 17 years old and just left for Canada. She is a busy executive but now faced with an empty nest, no boys to scream at for messing up her living room and no man in her life, she decided to take matters into her own hands. And on a week day too!
“The week had started for me on a low low. I was just tired in every way. I had a board meeting coming up and I couldn’t get myself to do anything. So, I decided to take a ‘me-time’ on a Wednesday. I checked into a popular 4-star hotel in Victoria Island, Lagos. I changed into my swimming things and went to the pool. It was 11 am and the pool was practically empty but to my right was this well-built handsome gentleman reading a book. Then he got up and took a dive in all his glory. Oh Lordy, I almost gasped. Maybe I even did. He had white hair but he didn’t look that old. He caught me looking him over, smiled and winked. I waved. After about 15 minutes in the pool myself, I saw him gather his things. I remember the number of cute guys I’d watched from afar and said nothing and then some strange courage which would have given my mother a massive stroke came upon me and I walked purposefully to this handsome guy.
I introduced myself and he did the same. I asked if he’d like to join me for drinks later and he said yes, provided if I would agree to swim with him the following day. And that was the beginning of a good thing. He’s a widower with three children and a grandchild. I have had the best 10 months of my life. He has met my boys and they are not as resistant as they used to be to my male friends.
He wants to take this to the next level as soon as I’m ready. I can’t stop asking myself: what if I’d let him leave that poolside without walking up to him?”
Well, girls, are you going to make the first move or keep sitting on your hands waiting for him to notice you? All you need to do is be careful you don’t work your magic on a man from the Stone Age.

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