Now that I’ve written a few posts, this would probably be a good time to shed a little light on why my site is called Memoirs of a Maneater. You might be wondering why I chose this particular name when I’ve just been rambling on about how I like to do yoga…not exactly relevant. I’ve actually had this phrase floating around my mind since college, when my friends and I joked that if I ever wrote an autobiography, it should be titled “Memoirs of a Maneater.” (Shoutout to my college roommate who I’m sure is one of the 3 people that actually read this)
So how does one become a maneater? Well for me it isn’t so much that I have oodles of men clamoring to date me and I just chew them up and spit them out. (In all honesty, that’s only happened a few times)
It’s more about the fact that before I even turned 17, I made the decision that dating would not be a priority in my life. I didn’t have a mission to find Mr. Right and I valued the friendships I had (and still have) with my girlfriends far more than any potential boyfriend. I realized early on that the gossip and drama dating brought to my life was just not worth it.
I’m honest enough to say that I can be VERY cynical towards love and relationships. I encountered some very poor excuses for young men in high school and those bad experiences stuck with me. Since then, there have been plenty of men over the years that just didn’t stand a chance if they actually did want to date me.
Casual makeouts and sleepovers in college? Sure, I was down with that. But if a guy asked me out on an actual date or wanted to hang out more regularly I would shut them down without a second thought. Like men typically act, I had the tendency to avoid anything that resembled commitment or could be labeled as official. My relationship status on Facebook would forever be listed as single and no college boy was going to change that. Thus, a maneater was born.
So now that I’ve given you a little background, expect to see some new posts soon about my antics and experiences dealing with men over the past decade. Some good, some bad, and some just plain weird!
Memoirs Of a Maneater 