Next Time, I Want to Love Like a Man

Next time I fall in love, I’m going to love like a man.

I’m going to barge through the door like I belong there. I’m going to believe I deserve it. I might even take it for granted.

I’m going to love without thinking about how I look or how he thinks I look. I’m going to love without announcing it. Without saying the word. I’m going to assume — no, expect — that he can feel my love without needing to hear the word.

I’m going to move through every day with the certainty that he will serve my coffee in a heated cup, know where the Dulcolax is and sleep on the wet spot.

I’m going to say things like, “Don’t call a plumber, I can fix that.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” and “Where did you put my black thong?”

Next time, I’m going to love with preferences. I’m going to say things like, “Because that’s the way I want it”, “A little more to the right” and “Just drop me off here and find a parking place.”

Next time, I’m going to treat love like a noun — a thing, not a verb. My love language is going to be ASL. After all, we shouldn’t have to talk about everything, right?

Yes, I know—not all men. Not always. Particularly not in 2025. But enough to make me want to love like a lot of them still do.

Wise Ask: Where did you learn to love like a woman?
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