The fine art of loving a woman. (It’s not easy) 2
It takes a lot of thought (and a lot of suds). Gosling soaping McAdams in a tub of Nicholas Sparks romance.

The fine art of loving a woman. (It’s not easy)

Or, the five languages of love, abridged version.  
Celine Lopez | Nov 23 2018

“You know I’m not into rape.”

Cue distancing myself from anti-rapist slowly until I hit the fatal edge of my chair.

“Why are you moving away from me?”

He looks at me confused and peeved.

“It’s just not my thing, relax.”

He speaks again, looking at me like I’m crazy.

For once in my over-articulate life I had nothing to say.

When someone makes an act that calls for capital punishment sound like a lifestyle choice, it’s time to flee.

Men say the darndest things. In this case it was Zodiac killer scary.

He sent me a message the next day saying sorry for the other night. I wasn’t going to answer but I owed it to myself to be heard. He needed to get schooled.

Celine: What you did last night was disgusting. I never want to see you again.

Weirdo: I know I had too much to drink. I’m sorry I couldn’t hook up with you. You know I just want it to be special. I really like you.

Mind. Blown.

I hate dating.

It is an extreme case of being a winner in losing. Dating sucks. It sucks harder and harder as you get older. No one is immune to the perils of receiving surprise dick pics, living through hookup hangovers, and ghosting. This is why I hate Tinder and it’s ilk. Dating analog style is hard enough. The ease and laziness that dating apps offer make it impossible.

I’m quite old fashioned. I love courtship. I love flowers even if I think they are way too expensive and impractical. Most of all, I want love. It’s not cool these days to want romance. There’s just so much love-shaming going on. I’m not one of those go-with-the-flow types. I want serious and ardent love. I was born in the ‘70s (ok ’79, but still), I am not a too-cool-for-school millennial. I want that Nicholas Sparks crap.

Loving a woman is difficult. In between her hills and valleys of “It’s up to you”, “It’s ok” and “I’m fine”, what you find is the twilight zone.

So how do you love a woman without being a creep or an ice cube? Every time I have a close friend getting married I give him or her a book called The Five Languages of Love by Gary Chapman. Yes, I’m a fan of the self-help section, but this particular book distills everything we need to know about winning in love.

Basically, each person responds to their own language of love. The languages are: words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. As much as I’m entertained by a bitch who chooses receiving gifts as her language of love, mine is the rock solid words of affirmation.

The men I have dated the past few years have either never been interested in my work or they make me work for them for free (true story). Some girls get high being admired for their beauty, for their prowess in bed or their well-curated Instagram account. My career has always been the validating point in my life.  A man who respects what I do, is a man who knows how to love me.

Here, the cliffnotes to The Five Languages of Love as I see it:

1.Words of Affirmation:

This is my jam. Guys these days are so bloody insecure. I swear the more successful they are the more they feel threatened about my career choices. I sell booze and I talk about myself online. As a combo I can see how this can be a scary thing but still. They either ignore what I do and just silently hope I don’t write about them, or they distract me with a good party (I’m cheap). These two things in my life: writing for ANCx and Gypsy Rosé are the reasons I wake up each day with a bounce in my step and the resolve to pop a Concerta to rule the day. I live for that pat on the back.

2. Quality Time 

Put that phone down and give her a foot rub as you watch The Real Housewives of Potomac silently. Listen to her as she gossips and backstabs all her friends. That simple.

3.Receiving gifts

Sure some girls love that trio of flowers, Cartier Love bracelet (or something similar to it) and handbag gig. The real gifts though are the ones that surprise you. I had an ex-boyfriend who created an album from the first day we met until the day of the breakup. What happened in the middle was that I was this girl who was a near saint and insisted on flying coach over private. Yes, he didn’t know me. Yes, he probably knew we were eventually going to break up since he already was working on this homage/eulogy from day one. However to be seen so lovingly was the best thing a man could ever give me especially in times when I didn’t love myself. Gifts should celebrate one as a person, not celebrate the trends of Fall/Hiver 2018 according to Vogue.

4. Acts of Service

Feed her soul by doing the little things. High up on my list is cleaning up the apartment and visiting me at work. The latter comes with conditions. I remember being a cub reporter for Studio 23 twenty years ago, and my date insisted on picking me up at work. He was running for senate and spent an hour campaigning in the newsroom. His desire for narcissistic public service was not my kind of act of service. As I always say character is what happens in the dark. The little things are what matters. Things that no one really notices except for you. I melt for a man who walks my dogs.

5. Physical touch

The most touching scene for me is seeing a longtime married couple where the husband still holds his wife’s ass. Relationship goals.

There you have it. Go ahead and make a list and check it twice and be both naughty and nice. The best way to show love is during the holiday season.

Here’s the holiday season flash card:

Words of affirmation: You’re not fat.

Quality Time: Sitting through dinner with her entire family. Then meet up with her friends with zero wingmen in tow.

Receiving gifts: You better give her one even if she says that fake no. Don’t fall for it.

Acts of service: Going to Simbang Gabi hungover.

Physical touch: Holding her hair as she vomits all that cheap tequila and wine.

Enjoy and yes, you’re welcome.