5 Kinds of Girls Who Can’t Seem To Find Mr Right

One of the most common things I see on social media, is a plea from a girl for a certain type of man that she’s looking for. “Find a man who will do this or that for you” with perfectly framed snapshots of a couple on a swing, or a cute wedding scene, or a 40 year anniversary to depict that there is this utopia in a romantic sort and that most of it lies in this idea that you “just need to find the right guy”.

I support that. I am in no way against women being selective and waiting for a guy who will treat them with respect and honor. I would want nothing less for my sisters, or a future daughter of mine (if that ever came to pass).

But from what I’ve noticed, there is far more involved in a romantic utopia, than simply “finding the right person”. You see, many times, the search isn’t half of the issue with a girl. The problem lies in what a woman will accept, and what a woman actually gravitates to, and that goes far deeper than whether a particular guy does cute things worthy of postcards.

In this article, I will be outlining 5 kinds of girls and why they can’t seem to find that “pastel lighting, delicate kiss” kind of romance that Pinterest seems to declare is both common and deserved.

1) The Rescuer

This girl is the one who has everything right on the outside. Her friends and family are absolutely puzzled as to why she isn’t married, and even more puzzled by the guys she tends to date, because she seems like the type to have the guy of her dreams waiting on her doorstep, but then never seems to date such guys.

What the Rescuer suffers from, is approval – and not as much approval from others (although that certainly matters) but approval of herself. No matter how great of a person she convinces others that she is, she still feels dirty and undeserving.

Combine a sense of unworthiness with the love of being a martyr, and you have the perfect rescue mission. To the Rescuer, she is looking for someone who has a ton of potential, but is in a rough spot and simply needs someone to believe in him in order to see that potential realized. While this may seem unselfish, it’s actually very self-focused, because she’d rather be praised by someone below her for appearing better than who she is, than accepted and given grace for who she actually is by someone who is on the same level.

The Rescuer looks like a 10, but feels like a 5, so she dates a 4 in order to feel like a 7.

You see, the Rescuer is feeling like she’s an angel compared to the guy she’s dating, and that makes her feel much better. She’s feeling like she’s getting what she deserves, because she can’t get past who she is or used to be.

No matter how much the Rescuer sacrifices for their guy, the guy is incapable of appreciating her, because damage and pain makes him unable to see anyone but himself. This then has the potential to take years of mistreatment before either the Rescuer develops enough self-confidence to know her true value despite her mistakes, or the Rescue Mission actually does start to improve, but curiously, his improvement always had to be something he did on his own, and her efforts to be his Jesus were all but inconsequential.

If the Rescuer wants the pastel lighting and the “happily ever after”, she needs to stop letting her past (or others) define her worth. As the line from the movie “Perks of being a Wallflower” goes, “we accept the love we think we deserve”. The rescuer needs to start viewing herself as deserving of something great, in order for her to accept something great. And, believe it or not, it takes a lot of humility to do this, for it takes more humility to accept a blessing than it does a reward.

Many of the ideal guys for the Rescuer stand by scratching their heads, as it would seem that the perfect girl just turned him down for a guy who wouldn’t treat her half as well, and in all fairness, that’s usually the case.

So for the Rescuer, she probably has had plenty of opportunities to have that beautiful ending, so it’s not a matter of searching for the right guy, it’s a matter of being able to accept him when he comes.

2) The Ship Captain

The Ship Captain is the girl who feels as if love is a ship, and if she’s not on a ship, she’s sinking.

There are two kinds of Ship Captains: Emotionally based, and Practically based.

The Emotional Ship Captain doesn’t feel valuable unless she feels wanted, but rather than focus on the problem of feeling unwanted, she sees marriage as the end-all to those problems.

The Practical Ship Captain has usually been planning on getting married for years, and sees being single as a waste of time and treading water in the aspect of going for what she truly wants.

Both Ship Captains are experts at convincing themselves that the most recent boat they’re in, is everything they want it to be.

This isn’t because she’s optimistic, as much as it is the fact that, for the Ship Captain, being alone is more frightening than being in a less-than-ideal relationship, so she’ll try and change her perspective around the relationship to make the most of it.

The Ship Captain usually isn’t even aware of how dependent she is on a “ship”, because she’s convinced herself that every ship was unique and “everything she’s looking for” and that she was on a far better course with the new ship than she was with the old ship. And because she never learned how to be happy when she was alone, she isn’t ever truly happy when she’s with someone. And “faking it until you make it” becomes wearisome after a while. Not actually being satisfied, either leads to more plans of abandoning ship, or a final breaking point where the Ship Captain has to learn how to be okay alone. Hopefully though, this happens before she’s settled for a “convenient” guy instead of the right guy and she isn’t too far in to get out.

The guy that the Ship Captain is looking for, many times sees warning signs with the Ship Captain. Either she is a bit flirty while in a relationship, or she has a track record of never going more than a few months without a boyfriend, but a perceptive guy would see that as something to be careful of. Consequently, many Ship Captains settle for guys who are ok, but certainly nothing they’ve been dreaming of.

It isn’t until the Ship Captain learns how to be truly happy alone, that she’ll be able to accept a romance that is truly healthy and a guy who treats her the way she’s wanted to be treated. Unfortunately, this is often a difficult point for the Ship Captain to reach, since she is usually unable to see that she has the Ship Captain syndrome. In her view, the problem with not having that wonderful marriage rests more on not being able to find the right guy, rather than being the right person and unfortunately, the temporary high of a new relationship seems to confirm that her assumptions were, in fact, true.

3) The Scarlett

The Scarlett is the girl who is used to constant validation for superficial reasons, so that the validation becomes a vicious game of give and take.

Many very beautiful women fall victim to the Scarlett. When you are a beautiful woman, society tells you that your worth has been defined by your sex appeal. Sex appeal is a very cruel measurement of worth. Girls in this cycle quickly become distrusting of men and starved of authentic validation.

The Scarlett both succumbs and attempts to rebel against, this stigmatism, falling into what I call the “1 out of 100 disparity”. The 1 out 100 disparity is when, in the case of 99 out of 100 guys giving a Scarlett full validation, she’ll ignore, and may even resent the 99, and yet desperately try to acquire the validation of the 1.

Thus, the Scarlett’s sorting method of who she might allow to date her becomes unfairly biased on who is shiny enough to actually catch her attention, or who is audacious enough to withhold validation from her, neither of which commonly contain guys who might give her a fulfilling relationship.

Most good guys won’t play the manipulative card of withholding validation, despite knowing how to. They leave that to the players and the womanizers. Furthermore, many decent guys don’t play their cards all at once, but use humility to be impressive, and only to those who have earned the right to see it. Hence, the Scarlett often overlooks the guys who might truly appreciate her and validate her for more than what she looks like.

It isn’t until the Scarlett is able to find her sense of value away from her beauty, that the Scarlett is going to be able to even see the guy that she truly wants to be with.

4) The Bachelorette

Bachelorette’s are the girls who need emotional stimulant, so they create unnecessary drama in order to intensify affirmation from men.

Edward loves Bella, but so does Jacob. Now they must fight and prove if they’re worthy to win Bella’s hand and in the middle of it all is Bella, who is miserable…actually that’s not right – Bella is in heaven?

At the core of all of us, there is a grandiose expectation in love. To the Bachelorette, this leads some to expect much more out of a man than is humanly possible. In movies and romance novels, the hero somehow knows what the woman is thinking and he guides her into emotional perfection.

In movies, love triangles don’t have victims, just one happy couple at the end of one emotional decision. It’s a cold reality then, when the Bachelorette finds that her fantasy world simply doesn’t exist.

At the end of the day, Bachelorette’s just want to find a “special” kind of love, but they end up much further from it than when they began. Once again, the guy they’re truly looking for is able to see when there are games and will usually see it as a warning sign. If she’s trying to bring up a different guy in order to stir jealousy for instance, it’s going to be seen as a sign of immaturity at best to the guy with a level head. This leads to disappointment from the Bachelorette and she might even see the guy as a coward for not fighting for her, when in reality, he’s escaping the situation before things get truly messy.

In order for the Bachelorette to find a satisfying romance, she needs to feel validated and valuable without men telling her so. She needs to be able to handle rejection and still know her worth. She would also need to see a more realistic and purer form of romance and love. Take a break from Twilight, Taylor Swift and Nicholas Sparks and spend some time with your grandparents who’ve known each other for 50 years and still love each other; embrace the truer, grittier and purer perspective of romance.

5) The Tower

The Tower, is the kind of girl who sits expectantly in a tower, waiting for the only guy who could not only find her, but also manage to save her.

This girl doesn’t wrestle with having too many guys (although many guys usually do want her) and she doesn’t usually have a problem with settling, her problem is that she only sees herself in one of two places: her tower, or with him. Somewhere inside she feels the need to be rescued, and she has such high stakes in that rescue, that it’s much safer to only accept it if it’s “perfect”. The way in which she does this, is by putting up a series of walls that act as a safeguard, as only those deemed worthy will be able to get through to her heart.

This kind of girl might seem like she does indeed have a decent approach to romance. She often doesn’t have much trouble with failed romances and she gets along fairly well. However, this sort of walled approach makes it very difficult for men to approach her, and, if a man does begin a pursuit, he feels like he’s navigating a war zone blind.

The downside to the Tower from a decent guy’s perspective, is that there is usually something that she is needing to be saved from.

If those walls are finally overcome, the Tower would often make her “hero” her world and transfer everything from inside the walls, into his hands. Many good guys can detect this; and find it intimidating, as no guy is going to be able to be her world and satisfy a girl like that. He’s going to go through a huge process to try and prove his capability of catching her, but the fact is that no man could ever actually catch her, since she needs to escape her tower on her own; she needs to reconcile what’s going on in her own heart before she can share it with someone else in a healthy way. He’s scared to get close, lest she jumps.

The Tower needs to understand that romance can’t save her. Once she faces the reasons that she needs rescuing and deals with them, then the stakes aren’t nearly as high and those walls become healthy challenges to her guy, and he’ll be way more likely to accept the challenge, since he’s finally able to be seen with realistic expectations. And at that point, if fate simply doesn’t wish for them to be together, he knows she’ll be ok in the end. Real men consider such things.


The most common issue that I notice in a woman who is looking for true romance, is that she spends all of her time planning for a wedding instead of a marriage. She ignores her issues, and looks for a guy to be an easy solution.

Being single is difficult. It’s lonely and it has an aspect of hopelessness to it, since no one can see the future, and no one wants to end up alone. However, I would imagine that the feelings of being single and lonely, are no where near the feelings of waking up after a year of marriage feeling like you made a mistake. And learning how to make someone your companion rather than your Jesus is much more difficult after you’re married and usually only comes after a meltdown of sorts.

As much as you may not feel like it, YOU HAVE TIME. Cool down, let yourself do some discovering of who you are, and rather than focusing on not settling for a guy who won’t make you happy, focus on not settling for a version of yourself that will never make you happy. If you do that, then the right guy will actually be visible to you, and you’ll be visible to him.

Picasso Rode the Waves


Picasso road the waves. Today I toured the Picasso art museum in Barcelona and I got to see the works of Picasso, from his self portrait when he was 15, up to his mosaic pieces later in life.

I saw that he went through phases, and was perfectly ok with that. His most popular paintings and the style he was eventually known by, wasn’t even birthed until later in his life.

There was a period of time where he only painted in blue. He was reading depressing books, and so he felt that blue was a color that was most melancholy and he painted everything in a blue palette.

There was a period of time, where he only copied another artist. He spent years copying someone else and every piece he painted was just a recreation.

He went through a phase where he only painted what he saw out of his balcony. He had a dove cote there, and he would just stare out his patio at the doves and paint…for years.

Picasso road the waves.

Often-times as an artist, I’m scared of waves. I have this impression, that my greatest art is within me, and that art is signature to me and it doesn’t change or fluctuate or ride waves. I believed that true art was this constant within, and you had to find it and not let anything else taint it.

While it may be true, that unadulterated art is art that doesn’t simply imitate, I realized that the human heart and soul goes through seasons…and that true art would mimic those seasons.

I need to ride the waves.

I need to stop worrying that I’m going to lose a season of my greatest art and keep trying to relive memories in order to create the art that I want. I simply need to enjoy the season I’m in and create music that tells my own story.


“We don’t mean to be rude, we’re just German”, she said, as she sipped coffee elegantly. She was Austrian, but used Germany and Austria interchangeably, allowing me to jump to a conclusion that was supposed to be “common knowledge” – Austrians and Germans are closely associated.

On my way there, I was initially worried. I had reached out through Air B&B and her responses had been short and devoid of any pleasantries. I would say something like “I’m excited to visit Vienna” and she would reply with “What time will you be here?”.

Despite that, I was eating a gourmet breakfast on a tray in her living room, sipping strong coffee and I had, only moments ago taken a shower where she had purchased masculine smelling shampoo and body wash just for me. She was treating me like her son, and I felt taken care of.

After I made the Austrian/German connection, I now had a brand new context with which to picture the people here. My grandpa is named Ivan, and my memories throughout the years have been of a stern, disciplined, quiet, but incredibly polite man. He was the kind of man who lived in the highest form of integrity with his neighbors. He would either drive the speed limit, or 5 MPH under, but never over. When he was at home, he would command that food be made, and his wife would jump to it. He was an engineer, and surrounded himself with the principles of logic, math and mechanics. This is my German grandpa, and once I could make the connection, my interactions changed dramatically.

“When I was a child”, she said, “I learned a lot about World War I, but I didn’t learn a thing about World War II”. Fascinated, I realized that the shame of it all had caused teachers in Austria to act like it never happened. I had just walked by famous locations; places where Hitler had spoke, coffee shops where Hitler had presided. Vienna was a huge history book, with page after page turning as I walked the streets. It was surreal to think that a madman managed to take control of this place, and I kept trying to understand how.

I approach a crosswalk in Vienna to find a crowd of people on my side of the street, and a crowd of people on the other. The strange part to me, was that there wasn’t a car to be seen in either direction, and yet these two crowds stood, transfixed on the glowing red pedestrian sign across from them, watching…waiting.

I began walking across the street without hesitation, and I watched the looks on everyone’s faces. They would furrow their brow at me briefly, and keep waiting for that glowing red pedestrian to give them permission.

In many instances, I was the only one who would cross the street.

Austrians – Systematic, efficient, rule abiding and pleasant. I began to realize, that with every great strength, it has the potential to be utterly abused.

Recently, Hungary closed it’s borders to the Syrian refugees. The poor refugees had no where to go, and Austria and Germany opened their borders to them. They were nearly overrun with hundreds of thousands of people, fleeing war. It was strange for me to realize, that 70 years ago, hundreds of thousands of people fled FROM Germany, and now Germany is one of the few places were people can flee TO. One more assurance that all terrible things are simply a crude distortion of something wonderful.

Heritage is more than a name, I believe. I think there is something running through the blood; through the DNA of different groups of people. This polite, principled group of people had to have been a similar group in 1939. I imagined their “do right by your neighbors” mentality and their structured existence back when the excitement of an industrial revolution had changed the lives of so many. And then I imagined a seismic shift in it all.

I haven’t read near enough history of Vienna to know for sure, but in my mind, a charismatic leader preyed on the fact that there were far more people abiding by the system, than there were those questioning it. There were too many people with dutiful faith in the order of hierarchy, than there were those who might defy it. Combine that with a systematic, engineering bent, and it truly was the perfect springboard for a near world takeover.

It was the most hospitable place I went to. Everyone was polite and seemed willing to help their fellow man. They worked hard and I never had the feeling that anyone was trying to sleight me. Standing at the stoplight, staring at the red pedestrian, I let myself wait. I stood in the crowd on one side of the street and felt the strange calm of letting that red and green glowing pedestrian decide my course, and for a second, it felt good. Life seemed simpler. The pedestrian blinked green and in an instant, I was back to plotting my course through Vienna and that brief moment of serenity was nothing more than a memory.


I was in Munich a few days ago. I arrived at noon, and I had 10 hours to kill before my bus arrived. I was exhausted because I had slept merely 3 hours the night before, and I was emotionally drained because I had just dropped my brother off at the airport and he had been my travel companion for 4 weeks. I looked at my bank account and found it to be in the negative. Shocked, I found out that I had rented a car the day before, and the rental car company had put out a mandatory deposit that was big enough to entirely drain my bank account, and it’d be at least a few days before I would be seeing that money again. Additionally, my phone was rapidly dying and, while the bus stop had various shops like a McDonalds and a coffee shop, I couldn’t seem to find a power outlet anywhere.

After walking the streets in Munich for an hour in search of a coffee shop to no avail, I finally came back to the bus station and began searching until, to my delight, I found a spare outlet in a lounge area of a small produce store. It was there that I met a German girl with brown eyes, dressed fashionably warm and strikingly beautiful. She had spotted the outlet, and I had managed to use an extension cord to split the power so that we could both use it. We were now power outlet comrades and so began a conversation of why we were there:

She was a college student in northern Germany, but her father had gotten a temporary job in Salzburg, Austria and so she was going to Salzburg to be with her family for the weekend. She talked with passion and excitement, her big brown eyes darting back and forth as she explained to me in broken English how she wants to be a travel agent and how she used to be a gymnast and how she wants to leave Germany some day.

Our conversation ended abruptly, when the store owner told us that it was against the rules for us to use a power outlet, despite the fact that the girl had bought food from his store. He rudely unplugged my extension cord and pushed a deepfreeze full of ice cream over the top of the outlet, and suddenly, my mind wasn’t thinking about Salzburg any more. I was back in Munich, where if power outlets weren’t obsolete, they were against the rules, and that fact alone seemed to summarize my experience there.

The German girl had to catch her bus and she was running late, but she lingered for a second when saying goodbye. “Maybe I’ll see you later?” she asked, and I could sense that she wanted a way to stay in contact, but I just nodded my head and smiled and said “yes, enjoy Austria”. I’m not sure why I did that. I was so exhausted and there was so much on my mind, that I imagine I was blind to such opportunities.

My phone was starting to blink, but my bus was finally arriving and it advertised WiFi and power outlets.

Finally, after 10 long hours, I was freezing cold, broke, tired and ready to leave Munich behind as a not-so-pleasant memory.

“We only take cash” the bus driver said in broken English.

I was in trouble and I knew it. I couldn’t even get 5 euro out of an ATM because my account was overdrawn and no one told me that this bus line happened to charge 4 euro for baggage fees and they would only take cash. They looked at me like this was normal and expected and I just stood there stunned telling him that I didn’t have any money and that I couldn’t get him any money. He paused as if he might let me on anyway, but then adamantly shook his head and said “you have to pay. Everyone has to pay”.

I was feeling as if Munich was like the creature in Star Wars that was in the sand that sucked everyone and everything down into it, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t rid it’s clutches.

I began to reach for my bag from the bus compartment, when suddenly a stranger began yelling something in Croatian and I saw a tall man in his 40s with a 5 o’clock shadow and a really nice haircut give the bus driver money and tell me to put my bag back.

I don’t cry much, but looking at this guy paying for my bag made me start swallowing hard and when he looked at me, I could just barely muster a “thank you”. I walked with him around the bus as he mutters, “This is some of the worst bulls#!t I’ve ever seen. Everyone pays with a card these days, and what if someone isn’t carrying cash?”.

I walked into a warm bus, plugged my phone into the outlet and leaned my chair back. *Big sigh* I drifted off with thoughts of a beautiful German girl and I fell asleep before the bus even left Munich.

I woke up as the sun was rising over the picturesque mountains of Croatia, landing on the ocean with colors of pink and purple lines. I stepped out of the bus station to feel the 70 degree sun on my face and I was greeted by a friendly woman who took me to my own quiet apartment with my own shower and kitchen and a deck on the 3rd story with a beautiful view.

I’ve finally made it to Croatia, but it wouldn’t be half as amazing without Munich, but isn’t that how it always is? Contrast creates beauty. Desperation creates memories of a man with a 5 o’clock shadow and a beautiful German girl on her way to Austria.

Adventure is never found when things go right. Rise and fall, push and pull and the tide goes in and out. Out here, everything is multiplied. The falls are harder, but the rises are greater. Munich will always remind me of that.