Tag Archives: love

No More Mr Nice Guy

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A couple of years ago, I wrote a blog post about Nice Guy submissives. The Nice Guys of OK Cupid public humiliation blog has recently brought the “Nice Guy” back to the forefront of some internet discussions, and I’ve seen many an online debate in the past week about exactly why Nice Guys are not nice guys. In short, it comes down to the same thing that most things in BDSM (and relationships in general) do: the enthusiastic consent of all parties involved.

Now I’m not talking about actual nice guys here, but “Nice Guys”. We’ve all met them. We might have been one at one time or another. You might even be one right now without realising it. There has been a lot of confusion over exactly how one would define a Nice Guy as opposed to a nice guy. Here’s a simple way to differentiate:

If the woman you desire as a girlfriend, dominatrix or full-time amateur therapist has specified that she just wants to be friends, nothing more intimate, intense or physical, is this because:

a: she doesn’t fancy you, want BDSM play with you or want to give every bit of her attention to you and, although you might find this painful, you will respect her choices, accept the offer of friendship or move on? 

b: you’re obviously too nice, and she’s just a vindictive, bastard-loving idiot like all women/dommes/humans and therefore ignores nice guys, and anyway, why the hell doesn’t she value your 200 text messages a day telling her how important she is to you and therefore reply to every single one in detail (even if she won’t give you any of the sexy playtime that you clearly deserve for having to put up with her friendship) and if you sulk just enough and express quiet resentment at any attention she gives her other people in her life she will probably change her mind eventually and realise she needs nobody at all except a nice guy like YOU, the stupid bitch?

If you answered a, you’re a nice guy. This is a good thing. If you answered b, you’re a Nice Guy. This is not a good thing.

I’m sure most of us, at some point, have wanted something we couldn’t have. Rejection hurts, but it’s up to all of us not to be an arse about it. I would strongly recommend that you read this brilliantly sympathetic blog post by Girl On The Net about what to do if you think you might be, have been, or know a Nice Guy. Click here to read “On nice guys, hard truths, and the Friend Zone”.

You’re nobody until somebody loves you, huh?

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Valentine’s Eve – at five thirty, the streets are filled with people swarming in and out of card shops. Their desperation is palpable. Crowds fill the pubs. Get drunk enough and you’re bound to wake up with someone, right? The panic-buying goes beyond flowers, chocolates and restaurant food – at this time of year, people feel the need to shop around to find other people to be loved by. Even when you’ve got someone, you’re convinced that there’s something better out there – someone who’s that elusive quarry known as The One. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been cruised by husbands with pushchairs this week. It’s Valentine’s fault – little did the martyred Saint know that, centuries later, he’d be responsible for an annual festival of insecurity and chasmic loneliness. There’s something so futile about the whole sorry lot of it. Humans only collide and stick when sentimentality forces it. As a species, they’re just histrionic primates trying to make nests, rutting, flailing, pushing out offspring in the hope of being wanted by someone, somewhere, even if they have to make that person themselves – because in the end, you just feel empty, hollow, as if you’re only half a person if you don’t have that “other half”. Doesn’t it make you want to cry?

So, on that note, happy Valentine’s Day. Buy me presents, you tragic fucker.
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