How to Make a Man Fall in Love in 10 Days or Less

The title of this article is the winning slogan for a lot of fly-by-night dating services, best seller self-help books, and sold out seminars spanning the entire globe.

We want to find true love right now, today, without delay, and especially without any of the perceived encumbrances surrounding the six-month trial period where we’ll break wind in front of each other, spill our food on our shirts, and let the other person see us basking in the horror of deep dark circles, swollen eye bags and hairy armpits.

Then again, some people believe that we should never be allowed to see each other under such awful conditions. We should always remain perfect, proper, and pristine at all times.

I may also add that chances are that people who live under this umbrella of delusions are more than likely career singletons who stand to remain that way as long as they live.

I have to admit, I fell in love immediately with my husband. We were married in a month. That was 10 years ago. The irony in it is that I didn’t even believe that sort of thing ever happened to anyone at all, much less that it would ever happen to me. I never once believed I would ever get married, let along get married to some guy I barely knew in 30 days or less.

I was lucky.

However, I wasn’t that lucky because I was realistic. I knew what I was facing because I’d already seen every other utterly disappointing alternative out there long before he had arrived.

I dated the douchebag guy, the irresponsible infantile guy, the sick freak from hell guy, the emotionally unavailable guy, the egotistic asshead guy, the morally bankrupt guy, the “I’ll pick you apart by your appearance until you throw up” guy, and the star-crossed non-commonsensical idiot-on-a-stick guy.

In a span of 2 short years as a single woman, you name it and chances are I dated it. Much to my dismay, and by a stroke of good fortune, by the time I had met my husband I’d already had more than enough and had grown very, very tired.

I resolved to spend some time alone. I knew that was what I needed. I said I was going to wait for the right man before I’d put out, put my heart on the line, or put up with any shit.

I told myself if I had to wait 150 years for him to show up, so be it. Waiting for someone who may never come was sure as hell better than getting dished one raw deal after another.

In my dating trials, and in subsequently ending up alone for a bit, I got to know myself better than I had ever envisioned. I knew exactly what I didn’t want because I got to experience first hand over and over again, what kind of garbage was destined to never work for me in a million years. I look back on these experiences and I thank these basket case asses I dated one by one individually, for being a part of my life.

Sardonic? Yes, without a doubt. Indeed, I thank them for allowing me the privilege of some hard lessons learned in order to arrive at the place I’m at now. I’m thoroughly convinced had I not met these people and let them crap all over me, I wouldn’t know myself, nor what I wanted, nor who I needed to be in order for things to come together in my life the way they should.

As I stood along the precipice of voluntary celibacy, lonely nights descending from out there in yonder near Cygnus X1, and not having someone on the other end of the line to call up and come over for popcorn and marathon TV shows, I became one with myself. As cliche as that sounds, I became my sole source of support and inspiration.

And I can tell you at first, it hurt from beyond the tortures of hell because it was singularly THE MOST lonely time of my life.

I woke up alone, ate alone, stared out the window in a daze at midnight alone, and held my pillow pretending it was a person so I could fall asleep, alone.

The loneliness was more than I could bear. I literally thought I was going to shrivel up and die from it, as though it were a chronic deadly disease for which there was no known cure. I thought my limp body was destined to be left decaying undiscovered on the floor in my apartment, because even me laying there dead and stinking of putridity still wouldn’t be enough draw in anyone’s attention.

It was dire, it was painful, and yet, it was the best choice I’d ever made.

During that period, I made a list, much like the list of life goals people write up. However, my list was the “Man of my Dreams” list.

Numbered from 1-100 or so, I wrote down every single quality I sought out in a man in fine detail. Mind you, it wasn’t “perfect abs, lots of money, high social status” or anything of the superficial sort. As I mentioned, I’d already dated men from within those standards and they amounted to dog shit.

Instead I wrote on it things like “loves kids, has strong moral values, is a man’s man, is funny, is modest”, etc. They were basic REALISTIC standards that I found appealing and dream-like because they were completely NORMAL, as opposed to the psycho wack job set I’d laid up with before for months on end. I just wanted an everyday “regular guy”, who I could love and who would love me back. Simple as that.

I’d resolved to remain alone until the man on this list showed up at my front door, flowers in arm and big heart in the palm of his hand.

So I waited.

And waited and waited and waited some more…..

As I waited, I worked hard, took care of my daughter, maintained a household, and sought refuge in spending time with my family and friends. Each day, I slowly became happier, more inspired, and very content with who I was and the whole of my life.

I arose day after day, and my rain cloud of loneliness began to part and with it, the piercing sun beat down on my shoulders and I was okay. I was okay with me, okay with where I was in my life and okay with being single. Most of all, I was okay with living alone and I had finally scaled the massive hill upon which I thought I could never conquer. I did it. I made it. I survived.

Then one day he showed up. Literally out of nowhere. He appeared and he had all the attributes I laid out on the list I’d written months ago. He was there, in the flesh. He wasn’t stunningly gorgeous, wasn’t some epic mythic god, or some millionaire hunk every woman wants to reel in. He was the regular guy. Albeit, the one I truly wanted, the one who would be everything I needed but didn’t.

He wasn’t perfect. But he was perfect for me.

So you ask, “how do I make a man fall in love with me in 10 days or less“?

By facing the world with the courage to be everything you want to be.

By enduring the storm preceding the calm.

By believing in yourself and having the love inside to set standards and boundaries that make way for the good things that are destined to come.

By surpassing everything you ever imagined you could be, before setting limits on yourself in settling for whatever comes your way.

And by believing 100% you deserve everything that is good and that IT WILL become yours.

Make a man fall in love with you in 10 days or less by falling in love with you for the rest of your life.

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