Nice Guy Syndrome is an affliction where a heterosexual male is frustrated because he finds himself caged within the friend zone of women he’d prefer to be dating. Often, he is a kind and sympathetic person who listens well and lends a shoulder for women to cry on. He’s loved and admired, but not the type of fellow women sleep with.
If there is a hell, this is it, and I’m in the penthouse.
I was raised to be a nice guy. My relatives and teachers instilled in me the importance of:
- Treating women gently
- Protecting and providing for women
- Listening to women without judging
- Understanding what it is women want, even when they don’t say the words
- Opening and holding doors for women
- Handling certain tasks for women
- Writing love notes to women
- Complimenting women
I’m a fucking master of the above and, thereby, block my own access to the physical parts of women I long for.
So, what’s a nice guy to do? Should I shed my skin, get a Harley and tattoos, lose all concern for how I’m perceived, and begin banging lonely chicks by the dozen, just to please my pecker? I can’t do it. All I can do is vent and hope someday, some woman will realize she deserves something better than bad boy bruises.
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