I would find either:1) The charming bad boy like Serge Gainsbourg—mysterious, complicated, destructive, rebellious, who liked me just as much as the other girls he would be shamelessly seeing at the same time.2) Guys who lived very, very, very far away (oi Silvio, tudo bem?).3) Guys already in a serious relationship (you know who you are, yes, you! On the other hand, if somebody would introduce me to a single, charming and open-hearted young gentleman, there would be a 99.99% chance I would not be interested.It seemed I had an invisible magnet for unavailable men.I was told and retold from a young age that I would be free to choose any career, that being a woman is a strength and certainly not a weakness, and that there is absolutely nothing a man can do that I wouldn't succeed at—which never actually worried me.My main interest was fairy tales, Prince Charming, frogs who transformed themselves into Prince Charming, and to never ever leave the house without wearing something pink.
Not everything is genetic, and in my case, character definitely falls under that caveat.
You wouldn't typically expect someone raised and surrounded by strong, successful women to turn out to be a hopeless romantic.
I am not a gold-digger, a speed dater, looking-to-just-have-fun dater, or a tease (as I am abstinent and promote it as well).
I don't hear my biological clock ticking, not looking for a free dinner, nor I am waiting to plan my life around Mr.
But being the black sheep of my matriarchal family is not the point of my story.
What is more curious is that even with all the high expectations I put on love, I would always fall for with the wrong guy.