Male POV: Girls Who Make Their Man Their Only Hobby Are The WORST

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Obsessed much?

As I write this, "I've Done Everything For You" from General Hospital alumnus Ricky Springfield just popped up on my iTunes. And I just need to say: Do NOT let his folly undo you, too! 

There's a tendency, especially early in relationships, to really become engrossed in another person. Some amount of obsession is good, healthy, and normal.

Some amount of t-shirt sniffing is totally reasonable. Buying him a fly polo because it would look good with his muscles is thoughtful. 

But constantly ditching your friends to watch him play club soccer is pathetic and you'll eventually resent him for it. It's cool that you met a CrossFit, but one or both of you needs to have something else going on outside of your box.

Establish your own interests — don't make the dude you're dating into your hobby.

While I'm sure you could counter with a billion examples, no one wants to marry a groupie. Not that marriage has to be a goal, but a relationship in which one person constantly relegates herself to lower status is bound to get tiresome ... unless you're VERY specifically into that.

And from there you may be a half-step away from what the "warrior-poetess" Ronda Rousey calls a "do nothing b*tch."

OK, but you really like him. Great! Be interested in something else, too. He speaks French and can box jump 65 inches? Feel free to verbally, or otherwise, handjob him to your heart's content. But also, I don't know, have fun friends with whom you spend a decent amount of quality time.

He's a f*cking genius? Cool, then he really should understand the need for you to do you. (Note: It's not been my experience that geniuses, self-recognized or otherwise, are particularly quick to recognize that they're not entitled to worship.)

This isn't a cry for "space" or, perish the thought, "silence"; it's an invitation to explore what you find interesting even if it's (shudder) the Instagram lives and E! exploits of the young, rich, and famous. It's not an invitation to be the mom/superfan of a grown-ass man (or even a grown ass-man).

It's awfully cold there in that shadow, ain't it? Even the most self-aware person takes things for granted from time to time. The person holding up the "you're number one" sign eventually looks like part of the landscape, even if she's also flashing her boobs.

I'm not saying to waver in your support, just have your own sh*t to do.

And here's the fine line: Be supportive. Don't tell him that you don't care about his band, Julie Klausner, but also don't offer to hold the microphone for 19 months while they shop for the ideal mic stand.

I had to politely but firmly ask a girlfriend not to come to all of my improv shows at one point because A) it felt like a waste of her time, and B) friends don't force friends to yell suggestions from the audience more than once a month. 

Be interesting. When the one thing you have in common is a mutual interest in one person, the mystery goes the way of an eight ball of coke backstage at a The Weeknd concert pretty quickly.

Survival was at a premium up until like 100 years ago. It made sense for a wife to be super into her dude and his farm because if he went areolas up, she and those kids might be eaten by wolves.

But the need to be obedient has been replaced by the need to be interesting. You don't have to entertain me; you just have to be able to entertain yourself. 

Love aggressively and passionately. Go all in, but don't volunteer to be consumed. 

Many men are called narcissists because someone let the relationship be about them, and were surprised when they got used to it. And, Buddha forbid, you break up — this keeps you from feeling like you just had your life hilariously stolen from you by Eddie Murphy.



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