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Wellness > Sex + Relationships

Do I Like the Man, Or Do I Like That He Calls Me Pretty?

The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at U Mass Amherst chapter.

Ever since I saw The Little Mermaid for the first time back in kindergarten, I knew I thought girls were pretty in a deeper way than just recognizing natural beauty. It was not until recently that I was able to label this feeling as attraction. Simultaneously, I have discovered that what I thought could be identified as attraction to men may actually just be validation.

I spent all of high school in search of a man to validate me. I wanted the world to see that men were capable of liking me, but even more importantly, that I was capable of liking them back. So, I lied. I lied to myself and to the men that I would go on dates with. “I like you,” they would say. “I like you, too,” I would respond without even being able to make eye contact because if I looked at them then that would mean that this is reality, and that they would probably try to kiss me next. Eventually, I would always give in. I would kiss men because it felt good to have them want me. It was almost as if I was in some twisted competition with myself. “See?! You like them! See?” My straight passing self would holler to the gay girl that was somewhere locked away inside of me. I forced myself to believe her, to look the man across from me in the eye and confirm this mistaken attraction with a kiss or sometimes even more.

I would gaslight myself: “This is what I want, it has to be.” But it never really was. Every time I would leave feeling nothing but disgust. That is, until I told my friends. Then I would play it up, make it seem like this is all I’ve ever wanted, that I’m so lucky. When in reality, I was not. I was far from lucky. I was a closeted queer girl who so desperately wanted to be set free. I had mistaken attraction for validation. Being touched by a man made me feel giddy inside, excited even. Not because I liked them, but because they liked me. It always meant that I would have a story to share. “I’m talking to this guy and we made out last night.” I wanted everyone’s approval, and I wanted the girl who used to comb her barbies’ hair, and secretly have them kiss each other to go away. I wanted to blend in.

It wasn’t until I started talking to a nice guy that I realized that I am not interested in men. It took a man to treat me right, to not see me as an ornament on display or just someone who was there and willing to satisfy his needs. He started off as a friend, and we quickly became best friends. We did everything together, and I always found him next to me and willing to respect me in a way that no man ever had before. It was clear that he wasn’t going to use me and actually enjoyed my company and wanted to get to know me.

“You should go for it!” “He’s so cute and sweet! He’s so perfect for you!” It’s true, he was. If only I liked him back. If only I was able to look at him and see a future partner, a companion, someone I could really love in that way. But unfortunately, I didn’t. I couldn’t. But I also couldn’t use him for the validation. He was too good of a guy for that and undeserving of being used just so I could shut up my internal queerness. I couldn’t cosplay a straight girl this time. I liked and respected him too much as a person. In that moment of realization, I discovered that I have only ever liked men who tell me what I want to hear, who feed into the delusional idea that I am a straight woman. I realized I could never like a nice man, a good man. I will only ever see them as friends. This is why I have only ever been with men who either lack social skills or are not good people. It has always been easier to believe I don’t like them because of their flaws then because of my sexuality.

So, do I like the man, or do I like that he calls me pretty? As of now, I think I like the validation of having a man like me, not actually men themselves. I still cannot see myself having genuine attraction for a man, much less a relationship with one. But who knows what the future holds? Maybe one day I will and maybe I never will. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter, does it?

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Lucy Peterson

U Mass Amherst '28

Lucy is a freshman at Umass Amherst, and she is a journalism major. Outside of writing, Lucy loves hiking, thrifting and riding horses.