There is something deliciously, marvelously, exquisitely sexy about a man who pursues.

I met a guy at a party recently who Friended me that night on Facebook. He hit me up the next day, asking how I was, etc., and we chatted for a day or two before he asked for my number. It flowed in the conversation and he used the opportunity to also ask if I’d want to go see a movie sometime that we’d been talking about.

“Sure!” I said.

The next day he texted, “Good morning!” and we texted a bit about our days. Later that day, he said, “Good evening!” and said that if I wasn’t busy later, maybe we could talk on the phone?

I thought that was adorable. We talked for an hour.

Then the next day he texted to see whether we could get together the next week. We hung out in person a few days later, and had a nice, mellow date. The next day? Another text. Another reminder that he liked me, that he was interested, that he wanted to know how I was, that I mattered.

I felt pursued. And I loved it.

Now contrast this with a guy I went out with a few months ago who didn’t pursue me at all. We had an amazing date, I mean making-out-for-two-hours, hot-and-heavy-in-the-car, fantastic-conversation-and-chemistry, great fucking date.

After which I texted him a few times and got enthusiastic responses … but no pursuing on his part. No him texting first, asking me out, or even just seeing how I was. And while one could write this off as him just not being interested, I really don’t think that was it. I think it’s that he just … doesn’t … pursue. He’s more passive.

I’m not going to spend the rest of this article lamenting the many, many, MANY times I’ve been not pursued by men. I’m not going to list the number of times I’ve known a guy was into me by how he was looking at me, how he acted around me, how he told his friend he was into it … but then did nothing about it.

No, I’m simply going to wax poetic about how fucking awesome it is when a guy does pursue.

I went out with a man once who I was planning on just sleeping with and ditching (I’d literally gone out that evening like, “I’m going to find a guy to bang” … and I did).

But after I’d picked him up at 11pm on a Saturday night and we were in bed and it was time for sex, he said, “I actually like you … let’s wait.” So we did. All of 8 hours. We did it the next morning and then he insisted on taking me out to brunch.

Insisted on taking me to brunch.

Then he texted me later that day to see how I was doing and what I was up to. We ended up having dinner together and I took him home again.

The next day, he texted me again. “How are you?” “What’s up?” etc. He wasn’t just about the sex. He wanted to know who I was. He wanted to know how I was. He wanted to see me and he told me so. He pursued.

This man eventually became my boyfriend, and we learned a lot together. But the thing I’ll remember the most is how it felt to be pursued by him:

I felt happy.

I felt desired.

I felt feminine.

The fact is, I feel most in my feminine when I get to follow a man’s lead. When I am the one reaching out, pursuing, or going after it, I can feel feminine in a different kind of way (assertive, vixen-y, etc)., but that only lasts a short time for me. I’ve found that I feel happiest, most relaxed, and most excited when I get to follow his lead.

He has to lead, so I get to follow.

I remember having a conversation with a boy at a party in college and marveling at his comment: “I respect women, so I don’t want to bother them. If I’m interested, I generally keep it to myself.”

Wtf??

I blurted out, “But respecting women doesn’t mean ignoring them!”

Respecting women doesn’t mean ignoring them.

Guys, of course you are free to do whatever you like when it comes to the ladies. But if I could give you a small piece of advice when it comes to the leading/following game, it would be this:

If you like a woman, pursue her. Text her first. Ask her out. Text her again. (Lay off if it’s obvious she doesn’t want you to anymore, but you get what I’m saying.)

Pursue her … and watch her light up.