In 1963 I met my first woman. She was beautiful, kind and loving (still is). She’s my mother. As time went by as it inevitably does, I would meet many other women. They came in all sizes and temperaments. Some were flashy and glitzy like brand new cars; others not so shiny and glitzy but very dependable. As I reached middle age I started noticing distinct characteristics that some women had and some lacked. In my head I categorized women into types. When I was done, I believed, I had put a description on every type of woman that existed.
The only thing to do next was prove my hypothesis. So, over a period of quite a few months every woman that I met, saw on television or read about got plugged into my theory. After a little tweaking, seven categories of women emerged. They are presented here in no particular order. They are:
1.) The Beauty Queen
2.) The Amazon
3.) The Drama Mama
4.) The Vestal Virgin
5.) The Black Widow
6.) The Ugly Duckling
7.) The Girl Next Door
2.) The Amazon
3.) The Drama Mama
4.) The Vestal Virgin
5.) The Black Widow
6.) The Ugly Duckling
7.) The Girl Next Door
What I found was that while there are some women that are 100% one type; they are the exception. More the norm was that most women were mixes or blends. Dominant Amazon with submissive Girl Next Door and a dash of Vestal Virgin; or dominant Girl Next Door with an under current of Ugly Duckling. Every woman was one type at least 75% of the time and spent the other 25% dabbling in others.
I’ve put pen to paper to share my insights so maybe other men might find some solace in knowing who they are dating, married to or separating from. If my little system helps you, I’m grateful.
The Beauty Queen
For most of us the Beauty Queen is not difficult to spot. The title is a clear give away. She is first and foremost a sight for sore eyes; a beautiful face, nice figure and sex appeal to match. She’s the Ginger on Gilligan’s Island. What sets the Beauty Queen apart from just a regular beauty is the belief that her looks come with some sort of entitlement, special privileges. The B.Q. (Beauty Queen), as the title clearly states, feels she should be treated like a queen. She shouldn’t have to stand in line because she is a queen. She should wear the finest clothes, the most expensive shoes, the Fendi handbag and name brand jewelry (Cartier, Winston, Bulgari, Tiffany) because she is the queen. B.Q.’s live in their own special world where reality doesn’t exist. Price tags are for somebody else to worry about. Children are for nannies to raise but important to have to feel complete.
Marilyn Monroe was a Beauty Queen. Marilyn Monroe committed suicide. Most B.Q.’s are rarely happy because they live in a world of need and expectation. There is always something they need, there is always something they expect.
What blows me away about some B.Q.’s is how many of them think they are all that and a bag of chips, while most guys see them as nothing but tramps. The tramps should really be called “Wannabes”. They are easy to spot because the Fendi bag is a copy, the make up is a little too thick, a little too much hair spray and a total lack of class or demeanor. Certainly these “Wannabe” B.Q.’s turn our head but kinda the same way a traffic accident gets us to slow down. We just want to see what’s going on. These “Wannabes” believe that their beauty is the only card they have to play. Sadly, for many of them, it’s true. The “Wannabes” gravitate to the strip club, the street corner, and the local bar. Others land fifteen seconds of fame on the cover of men’s magazines or hard and soft-core adult films. Some one once said that what every man wants is a virgin who’s a whore. These women forgot the virgin part.
B.Q.’s, whether high class or downtown, do have that one thing in common–they all play the beauty card. As men we can’t be sucked in. We must determine if she’s holding any other cards. The humor card, the I.Q. card, the compassion card, the reliability card. Are all B.Q.’s bad? No, certainly not. Nobody’s judging here. There are a lot of B.Q.’s that are a staple of society; governors’ wives, senators’ wives, wives of celebrities. What makes them different from the “Girl next door” (to be explained later) is their lack of gratitude for anything and their demand that everything should be handed to them on a silver platter.
When most people think of an Amazon, a Linda Carter Wonder Woman- type probably comes to mind. But that’s not what I’m talking about. Amazon has nothing to do with stature but everything to do with attitude and assertiveness. Amazons come in every size, from petite to plus sizes, from gorgeous to something the cat dragged in. A woman is not categorized as an Amazon by anything but her personality. Amazons are the first to ask questions, the first to speak up, the first to sign up. They are extroverts, Type A personalities. If a meal isn’t prepared just right, back it goes to the kitchen. If someone cuts in line at the movie theatre, she’s the first to say, “Hey buddy, there’s the back of the line, now get there!”
Amazons I believe were on their way to being overbearing men in their mother’s wombs but turned into females at the last moment. Spineless men without pants tend to gravitate to these testosterone driven gals. Rarely will you find an equally brazen muscle-bound man who will team up with them. Amazons spend a lot of time proving they are just as good or better than a man instead of appreciating the differences. Amazon women don’t play games (probably one of their best features). They always get straight to the point. If you’re dating an Amazon, you’ll never have to worry why she’s mad at you, trust me, she’ll let you know.
Men who are very secure with themselves and don’t feel the need to tell their woman how pretty they are every fifteen minutes might want to choose an Amazon. They’re honest, straightforward and logical thinkers. If on top of that you get lucky enough to get looks thrown into the mix, hang on! You’re in for a fun but bumpy ride!!
The Drama Mama
Ever heard the expression, “Making a mountain out of a molehill”? Well, that is a Drama Mama’s battle cry. A Drama Mama can take any small insignificant thing and by the time she is done with it make it larger than Mount Everest. Drama Mamas have a skewed perception on reality. They are always at Def Con One with a missile launch ready to go at any second. Here is a classic example of a Drama Mama in action:
Wife: Honey, did you take the garbage out?
Husband: I’ll get to it.
Wife: Oh sure, that’s what you always say then we get garbage piled
for days. Next thing you know we’ll miss garbage pick up day
because you failed to take the garbage out to the curb. We’ll
have garbage piled up for all the world to see, then the dogs
will get into it and scatter it over the yard, THEN THE
NEIGHBORS WILL CALL THE POLICE FOR LITTERING!!
IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!! IS THAT WHAT’S
GOING TO MAKE YOU HAPPY?!! HUH? YOU WANT TO
GO TO JAIL? DO YOU WANT TO BE SOMEBODY’S
PUNK IN PRISON? DO YOU WANT TO BE KNOWN AS
Husband: Honey stop, look, I’m getting up, I’m taking the garbage
Sounds familiar? If there’s always drama in your life, you’re either married to a Drama Mama or are one yourself.
The Vestal Virgin
Mother Teresa, The Virgin Mary, Princess Di are all classic examples of Vestal Virgins. Vestals have your classic caretaker personality. Many of them are homemakers, mothers and humanitarians. They will do without until everyone else is taken care of first. Vestals are selfless almost to the point in some cases where it is sickening. In a word, Martyrs.
Vestals are usually not risk takers, conservative by nature and practical. Usually easy to spot because they rarely wear make up unless required. Vestals range in beauty from natural beauties to homely. The highest levels of Vestals have no problem with their self-worth but will always choose the best interest of the whole (family, society, country) versus the interest of the self. At the other extreme, low-level Vestals have a low self-worth and want to please others because they don’t feel they are worthy. Low-level Vestals have one of the highest suicide rates because they believe their life has no purpose.
The Black Widow
Also referred to as the Chameleons for their ability to take any form and any one of the other six personas. Black Widows are the most lethal and toxic women walking on the face of the planet. First and foremost they are takers, opportunists, destroyers. The only thing they care about is looking out for #1, themselves. Their motto is, “What’s in it for me?” Different than the bartering Beauty Queens who actually believe the more you need from someone the more you love them. At least Beauty Queens in most cases allow themselves the belief that they are in love with the person that is doing so much for them. Most divorces with Beauty Queens arise when their mate can no longer satisfy the B.Q.’s needs. While long-term relationships with B.Q.’s are forged, the bartering never ends.
The Black Widow should never be confused with the Beauty Queen because she never allows herself the emotional attachment. There is no bartering, just the illusion of it. There are a lot of Black Widows doing time right now because they couldn’t be patient and allow their elderly husbands to pass on of natural causes in order to collect their inheritance. Anna Nicole Smith is a classic example of a Black Widow (in my opinion, please no letters) who was patient and did her time to cash in. A lot of people would argue with me and say she was clearly a Beauty Queen but since Black Widows are inherently such good actresses, who will ever know if her crocodile tears at the funeral were just a stage show. Either way she’s worth more money than me.
A psychiatrist that I consulted for this article told me, just like men, there are women out there prepared to do what ever it takes to get what they want. The end always justifies the means. These women are Black Widows.
The Ugly Duckling
Ever see a beautiful, fit, sexy woman standing in front of a full length mirror talking about how fat she is? To a degree that’s what I’m talking about here but at another level. Ducklings see themselves through imperfect eyes. They see fat when everyone else sees thin. They see ugly when everyone else sees beautiful. They see stupid when everyone sees intelligent. Ducklings radar systems are broken. Most, if not all anorexics and bulimics fall in this category. Many ducklings are over achievers and seen by the world as successful only to return home at the end of the day to believe they never cut the mustard.
Different than the successful Amazons who know when they’ve crossed the finish line, Ducklings never measure up to their own twisted sense of perfection. Julia Roberts is a classic example of an Ugly Duckling. To the world she attempts to come off as the Girl Next Door or pretty woman with that contagious laugh while inside she hides scars from broken relationships and name calling from a childhood long since passed. Ducklings need constant reassurance that they are smart enough, pretty enough and successful enough. Needy, to the point of desperation, is the one word that best describes a Duckling.
This overwhelming need for approval is typically the deciding factor that pushes the ones closest to them out of their life. Another good example of a Duckling is Sally Fields. I still remember in her acceptance speech upon winning her second Oscar saying, “You like, You like me, You really like me.” My word, practically the whole world had loved her since the Flying Nun to Smokey and the Bandit but she was still this little girl trapped in a grown up’s body looking for approval.
On the plus side many Ducklings turn into swans and overcome their self worth issues and make the kindest sweetest people to live with but at some level never accept just how magnificent they are. One thing Ducklings should remember is the following quote, “I’m told I’m pretty, I’m told I’m ugly. I’m told I’m fat, I’m told I’m thin. Who’s right? Brace yourself, they all are! What I choose to be on any given day is up to me.”
The Girl Next Door
When I was in third grade I lived next door to Mary Vinci. We walked together to school, played together, studied together, got in trouble together. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, heck, we didn’t even know what that meant. What we were, was buds. I could tell her my deepest darkest secrets and she would tell me hers. We stuck up for each other, looked out for each other. When I got older and moved away she would be the one I consulted about girls, even if it was by long distance. Our friendship transcended any and everything else.
As I look back at my relationship with Mary I realized I fell in love with all the same traits she showed me were possible to find in a woman; friendship, honesty, fairness, a sense of humor, intelligence, and inner beauty. Mary liked herself. I didn’t know it then but I know it now. All Girls Next Door aren’t trying to be something or someone they are not. They like their own skin. They like who they are. That alone should be their biggest attraction. Try marrying someone who doesn’t like themselves. See how far that gets you. But when you can find that woman who likes her reflection in the mirror and is all loving, my friend you have found The Girl Next Door.