The Manifesto

A man, exhausted by vagueness, decided to be specific.

He wrote a profile—not a bio, a manifesto.

“Seeking a woman who is
emotionally intelligent but never emotional,
independent but deeply dependent on us,
successful but not competitive,
ambitious but flexible,
healed but still in awe of me,
confident but easily reassured,
feminine but powerful,
gentle but resilient,
sensual but pure,
interesting but low-maintenance,
supportive, calm, inspiring, funny, fit, loyal, endlessly patient,
and preferably has done the work.”

He hesitated, then added:

“Bonus if you don’t take this personally.”

He posted it.

The reaction was immediate and biblical.

Women did not dislike it. They experienced it.

One felt “unsafe.” Another felt “reduced to a checklist.” A third said it reminded her of her father, which was somehow his fault.

Screenshots spread. Group chats lit up. Think pieces were drafted.

“How dare he,” they asked,
“expect a woman to be that much?”

He got blocked. The man was baffled.
He had copy-pasted the market standard and simply changed the pronouns.

When he pointed this out, the explanation arrived, fully formed:

“Men don’t get to define the terms of desire.”

Desire, it turns out, is a one-way negotiation.

Women may articulate fantasies as self-respect.
Men may articulate fantasies as evidence.

Evidence of what?

Of entitlement.
Of audacity.
Of thinking selection works both ways.

The man deleted the manifesto and replaced it with a single sentence:

“Just here to vibe.”

The outrage stopped.
The matches returned.
No one asked what he wanted again.

Order was restored.

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