An Invitation
The Inner Gardens
I have always loved it when a man is a little shy in his approach towards me. I loved it when he’d carry himself with a degree of restraint. Most men in my life have been so (and all with whom I developed significant relationships) — these were also not diminutive men lacking in virility at all. Assertive, virile, strong, capable, interesting but when it comes to drawing near to me, there is a shyness and restraint.
I love it for many reasons but I will name the two main ones: one is that it shows his chivalry and respect towards a woman. Consciously or unconsciously, in this, there is a recognition of both the sanctity and the danger of a woman; and the other reason is that being so, he summons from within me a desire to invite him in. It is an act of “lowering the gaze” — looking down until I permit him to look up directly at me. His reverence and “the bend of the knee” makes it so that I do not have to be severe. I do not need to fiercely rebuke his misplaced audacity. Since he does not go to war with me, he ends my war. He lets me know that he has not come to take — the one who wants to take needs me and wants me, but is too weak to acknowledge his need and want of me. The noble one acknowledges the power so the power does not turn against him. The Earth, so used to decaying and destroying, for once, can allow someone into her gardens and orchards. She can show him the beauties and delights.
I can also see that such a man does want to be invited. He does want to interact with me and experience me, but he does not want to be an intruder — he may knock at the door but he will not slam them down.