I have this insecurity around being perceived as a Manic Pixie Dream Girl. A kind of Zooey Deschanel in [500] Days of Summer. A beautiful nerd-dream of woman. I've got a cute smile, nice butt, funky clothes, and a moderate amount of quirk. I worry that when men meet me, they see an idea, an opportunity, rather than the person who is actually there. "Woah, she's hot and she makes Star Wars references… she's so different." They become instantly and overwhelming infatuated with who they think I am.
They pursue me and in the beginning everyone is happy because they are seeing me through these Manic-Pixie-colored glasses. They spout professions of awe, and constantly talk about how lucky or happy they are. Their feelings are unsettlingly unrestrained as they think of me as their Penny Lane, their Summer, their Holly Golightly. But as time wears on, it becomes harder and harder to shoe-horn me into this ideal. My reality starts showing through the cracks. And they become dissatisfied. Unhappy that I'm not living up.
And most of all, most of all, I worry that this is why we always stop talking after we break up. Not because of any pain, propriety, cluelessness, or casual drifting apart, but because the reality of me is so unsatisfyingly different from what they had imagined that they can't tolerate interacting with me. They never actually liked me, they only liked the idea of me.
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