Why ‘Nice Guys Never Win’ Is A Bunch Of Whiny Bullshit

There is a very fine line between sweet and creepy and you “nice guys” like to play jump rope with it.

By

Drew Wilson

Let me begin with this disclaimer: I am a nice guy. If I say I’m going to call you—I do. If I say I “we should do this again sometime!” I mean it.  I’m the type of guy that you bring home to meet your parents and trust to be alone with your best friend.

I don’t say any of this to brag, I’m saying it because what I’m about to say might make you think otherwise: the “nice guys never win” chant is a whiny load of bullshit. Cut the crap, seriously.

The problem is not that you’re nice—the problem is that you’re creepy.

There is a very fine line between sweet and creepy and you “nice guys” like to play jump rope with it. In the dating world, the difference between whether an action is considered sweet or creepy depends on how it is perceived by the other person—not on your intentions. In fact, your intentions don’t really matter at all.

I’ll admit, to the inside observer it can sometimes be difficult to know whether a girl is interested in you or not. So maybe you didn’t realize that your gesture would be perceived wrong. Maybe. But this is not the case for most of you “nice guys”—you know what you’re doing. You know she’s not interested, but for some reason—and this one just blows my mind—you think that you can enter her personal bubble and invite yourself to a level of intimacy that she clearly isn’t keen on.

You’re trying to take on a role in her life that she is trying to cast someone else in—she rejected your audition but you’re determined to get the part anyway. You’re a sore loser. Remember that episode of Friends where Joey doesn’t win a Soapie so he pouts and eventually steals another star’s award? Yeah, that’s you.

You did not get a rose. Get over it.

But you didn’t. You showed up at her house and threw pebbles at her windows. You left a gift on her car with an anonymous note that hinted at who left it there. You hugged her every time you said goodbye—and not just a side hug, one of those “why is he still holding onto me this is getting weird” sort of hugs that leaves the other person feeling smothered and, honestly, a little bit icky.

Now I want to be clear, I’m not saying that just because you crossed the line and did something creepy that you’re an emotional skeezeball. I’ve crossed the line before—in that regard, I’m just like you. I once left a long note on a girl’s car two months after she ghosted me. Did I cross the creepy line? Absolutely. What separates me from you “nice guys,” however, is that I learn from my mistakes—that and the part where I don’t whine about being rejected.

But you guys just don’t learn. You’re creatures of habit—a cheap, sleazy, and, if you’re being honest, not that nice habit.

You use the chameleon approach to dating—you change yourself to match the girl. Whatever she likes, you suddenly become passionate about. You present her with a version of yourself that you think she will like when, in reality, you’re someone else entirely. You wonder why girls seem to go after “bad guys?” It’s because “bad guys” are authentic. They’re not masquerading as someone they’re not.

I do have good news for all of you though—you can pull yourself out of your whiny, self-absorbed, pity party. There are just two simple rules you must follow.

First, any action on your part must be proportional to the level of intimacy you have already experienced with the girl. If you guys haven’t even gone out, don’t go doing anything sweet to win her affections—you have a better shot at that if you would just grow a pair and ask her out.

Second, if you have already expressed your interest and been rejected, for the love of god do not force your emotions on her. Do not shower her with affection and do not spread lies about what happened to cover up how butt hurt you are. Just don’t. Back the fuck up and move on with your life. If you have to convince someone to like you, what’s the point? Thought Catalog Logo Mark


About the author

Danaly Coomes

Chattanooga based writer with a love for travel, music, teaching, literature, long boards, and the outdoors.