There are women with that je ne sais quoi, the irresistible charm that makes men melt into babbling, controllable, little puddles of putty. Most women love to hate them and hold their men tighter as the “maneater” flashes an innocuous, but confidently furtive smile.
These powerful women, “maneaters” I’ll call them with true admiration and affection, know what they want, or who and just how to get them. It’s the “mean girls” that slink, rather slither in and abscond with boyfriends, fiancés, and husbands no matter how vulnerable for the taking. The “maneater” in full realization of her power can do the aforementioned, but don’t, and never would. The “maneater” knows her worth and that her worth is more than playing second fiddle as the mistress, even though the mistress gets better jewelry (unless he’s caught). The “maneater” sees the opportunity to strike and the Type A competitor within eggs her on, “win, win, win” but she maintains control of herself and him by not letting him stray, no matter how much he wants to even though she is the object of his now misaligned affection.
Additionally, the “maneater” knows and respects that somewhere there is an oblivious doe-faced ingénue girlfriend type faithfully unaware of the peril that besets her beloved’s heart and mind. After all, one day the “maneater” may be one of these exclusive girlfriend types, sans the ingénue despite a general fear of all things committal.
One can only hope?
