First and Second Tier Women

Women who will make the best wife material, the First Tier women, are swamped by marriage minded men in Western society. Their defining characteristics are (at least, in my eyes) their EARLY LIFE application of the standards of a biblical marriage: Supporting their husband and family, being gentle and well spoken, and, as they get older, having a delightful combination of intelligence and maturity to accompany their innocence.  Everygirl else is, simply put, a Second Tier woman.

Larisa is an example of a First Tier woman, seeking marriage since 18, and willing to leave the country for it (even wearing an American flag...so cute!)

Larisa is an example of a First Tier woman, seeking marriage since 18, and willing to leave the country for it (even wearing an American flag…so cute!)

Second Tier women would be anyone in/over the mid-20s, as well as the younger girls who place themselves in the “undesirables” category via virtue (haha) of their promiscuity, attitude, obesity, and other outward signs of not caring about what (good) men actually want (multiple/obvious tattoos, excessive drinking, vulgarity and sarcastic attitudes come to mind). There are a few girls who have mistakenly fallen into step on the feminist life-plan, who legitimately sought a good degree, or may have spent their prime years with the wrong person, but by that point their most attractive and marriage-formative years have been frittered away. Usually, if they are intentional about becoming Godly women, it’s obvious that they could potentially be good wives, but it will be an uphill battle, and they will lack the charm, innocence and elegance of a woman from the First Tier who made the right choices when she was younger.

The main problem the Second Tier woman will face is convincing a man to accept her in this state, one she chose for herself (a clear majority of them, anyways). Men, by inverse, mostly start at Second or Third Tier (for Marriage Market Value, at least) and begin to experience their rise to First Tier as they pass into their mid/late-twenties, if ever. I can account, for example, the girl who in her youth (and potential to be a First Tier woman) rejected me. Yet, the week after I became Dr. Seth, she called to me, asking me to accept her in her now Second Tier (having had a child and other self inflicted problems) state. It became very obvious that I was a First Tier (Marriage Market Value) guy, due largely in part to the overwhelming numbers of mothers/grandmothers trying to involve me into their daughter’s/granddaughter’s life. Knowledge, however subtle I may have had it, kept me from engaging in the dating arena, because these girls were, without a fault, a Second Tier or First Tier squanderer-in-progress. One young lady who had the potential to capture my attention, who went as far as to ask me on a date, had all the right credentials (indeed, far exceeded my baseline requirements for a marriage partner) but for one fatal flaw: Her “In A Relationship” status on Facebook (and boyfriend who worked at my office).

I often asked myself why I was looking. Really, I didn’t feel like I -was- looking. At all. I knew the score, and I simply disengaged, and unless “something magical happened” I just wouldn’t take any interest. Saved myself a lot of time, stress and money. I took a year to decide if I wanted to be married, and what I was willing to do to find a spouse who was matching me in my efforts to be First Tier, and decided to try the overseas thing. Coolest experience, ever. There are tramps, prostitutes, gift seekers and immature women, don’t get me wrong. But there are also a lot of women who have focused on being First Tier women (and wives), continuing even after the age of 23-25. The reason is simply that there are not enough First Tier men to marry them. Just as there are not enough First Tier women over here in the West.

As I had mentioned before, prior to looking seriously overseas, I knew I was a First Tier man. I did an objective statistical analysis of myself, using the 2010 census data, and to find a man as well groomed, achieved, and with my morals would be one in ten-thousand. Accounting for my young age would probably have placed me even higher. That wasn’t enough for the local ladies, however, because MMV does not cause tingles.

Valerie (the girl I had serious intentions for) is First Tier.  The proof is in the fact:  She's getting married.

Valerie (the girl I had serious intentions for) is First Tier. The proof is in the fact: She’s getting married.

After returning from Ukraine (and a week or two of female validation), the script flipped entirely. Now that I didn’t want dates, women (American and otherwise) started crawling out of the woodwork. The good (or, at least, better) American ones I would take on a date, just one, to get to know them and to give them tips on how to make themselves more marriageable. Appearance doesn’t matter, I just look for a heart for God and a sincere desire to improve. Despite the clarity of my message (strictly platonic) and the honest critiquing (borderline insulting if taken out of context), every girl ends up asking/subtly assuming/demanding for another date. They’re obviously attracted to me, the hair-flipping, arm-grabbing, lid-flapping, boob-grazing vixens. I have to tell them no, because my heart is no longer here, and playing them is not my intention. I shall not adopt the mindset of “you had your fun, now it’s time for mine.” For me, there will only be one girl in my life, and this First Tier man will settle for nothing less than a First Tier woman.

The above is a modified post I wrote on Haley’s blog (www.haleyshalo.wordpress.com).

If you are considering a membership at an Eastern European dating agency, the ONLY reputable agencies that I have found is Dream Connections Tours and Elena’s Models:

 

The use of copyrighted material in this website is protected by the Fair Use Clause of the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, which allows for the sharing of copyrighted materials for the purposes of commentary, criticism and education.  All shared material will be attributed to its owner and a link provided when available.

 

All other stories, posts, reports, photos, videos and content on this site is copyright protected © and is the property of the Western Women Suck blogpage, all rights reserved.

 

Back to home page: http://westernwomensuck.com

I love (and hate) dating Russian men

This article appeared at Salon.com on 12 August, 2013. Have a read; you may be surprised a bit. If you’ve never dated an Eastern European Woman before, you very well may be a bit shocked at the difference(s) in thinking compared to a Western woman.

I love (and hate) dating Russian men

The macho guys from my home country leave me torn between my feminist beliefs and my sexual desires.

written by DIANA BRUK

I was standing on a dirt path in a Russian country village, holding my boyfriend Anton’s torn, bloodstained T-shirt. All that could be heard in the darkness was my friends and I shouting his name, and the thuds and grunts of Anton wrestling with another guy. Only a few minutes ago, we’d been standing together drinking beer, when the other guy made the dubious and drunken decision to put his arm around me. What happened next was awful, confusing, and I wanted it to stop. But I’m not going to lie: Part of me was turned on.

Here was a guy protecting my honor, placing himself into bodily harm on my behalf. It was what I had dreamt of all those years when I read of dueling pistols and men of great action and few words.

After the punching finally stopped, Anton walked up to me shirtless and sweaty, caked with blood and dirt, his arms outstretched in an unmistakable gesture of victory. But what I mistook for a smile was actually a grimace. “What were you doing talking to that guy?” he asked. “Did I tell you you could talk to him?!”

Suddenly, I wished my women’s studies professor from Sarah Lawrence were there. Pistols at dawn seemed a ludicrous symbol of male egotism, and I longed for men in tailored suits, who solved arguments with Woody Allen jokes and New Yorker references. But then Anton hugged me, heat and sweat rising from his torso, his arms wrapped around me in a promise of eternal protection, inhaling me in that way men do to show they’re grateful that you’re safe. And in that strange and romantic moment I thought, “One day I’m going to put this in a story to explain my convoluted relationship with Russian men.”

I should preface this story by saying that I am Russian. I speak the language, I celebrate the holidays, and when I go back to New York after visiting relatives in the motherland and hand my Russian passport to the Russian customs official at border control, watch him quickly flip through it, and then haughtily sneer at me as he asks “Devushka, where’s your visa?” it is with the greatest relish that I slap my American passport onto the desk and yell “That’s my visa!” before launching into a Can’t Touch This dance. I was born into a crumbling communal building in St. Petersburg in 1988, moved to New York when I was five, and then moved back into a different crumbling communal building in St. Petersburg after graduating from my overpriced New York liberal arts college. All of which is to say, I am dual in every way, and my plethora of multicolored passports is a worthy symbol of the cultural mish-mash of my personality.



In 2010, I moved back to Russia to teach English. The first thing that you’ll notice when you get to Russia is that the women are astoundingly beautiful and immaculately presented. They will sashay past you with their wobbly stilettos (which are worn even over blocks of ice) and designer bags (which carry a full pharmacy complete with a mini shoe polish and handwipes) and, if you tell them you pluck your own eyebrows and only get a facial once a month, will look at you as though you have just clawed your way out of a swamp.

These insurmountable standards of beauty can largely be credited to the fact that there are more women than men. The disintegration of male hygiene and work ethic that occurs when there is (by some counts) a 3:1 female:male ratio should be noted by anthropologists worldwide. Having grown up in New York, I had taken for granted that people were always striving for something, or at least striving to be striving for something. In Russia, most of the guys I met were engaged in some sort of dubious import/export business in electronics; the rest were involved in “business” (if you ask what kind of business, and there is a marked pause followed by the word “business,” you should refrain from asking any more questions). A great many of them confessed to dreaming of moving to a beach in Bali, roasting barbecue all day, and copulating furiously with island women. This is why teaching ESL was booming there; for anyone who had any semblance of ambition, the goal was to learn English, the golden ticket to getting out.

The second thing you’ll notice is that Russian men are patriarchal alpha males, and, whatever your feminist textbook might have told you, this is initially a huge turn-on. Evolutionary theorists and Freudians alike would argue that women are subconsciously attracted to men who give off signs that they will provide for them. And when I say “provide,” I don’t even necessarily mean in a monetary sense as much as in a paternal one. This sense that they are obligated to look out for you, not because you’re weaker or feeble-minded, but because you — as the fountain from which life springs forth — are precious and valuable.

You do not meet a Russian man, you are chosen by one. You could be sitting in a banya, or at a café, and a man walks by, puts a fruit salad on your table, and gruffly says, “Enjoy.” If you eat the salad, it is a sign that you would like him to come talk to you. If you don’t eat it the salad, it doesn’t matter, because you have been chosen and he will still come talk to you since your compliance in the whole matter is largely unnecessary. In big cities, it’s not uncommon for a man to just run up to you in the street and say, “Devushka, may I make your acquaintance?” in the manner of a really pushy 19th century nobleman.

While all men like a challenge, the average American man tends to stop pursuit once you indicate that you are repulsed by his presence. Russians, on the other hand, aren’t going to let a little thing like your disinterest keep them from being your boyfriend. I’ve had male suitors who kept calling for years after I stopped picking up the phone. I’ve heard of guys crawling through windows and appearing naked in bedrooms. I had female friends who had no idea they were apparently someone’s girlfriend. The American teachers at my language school had a phrase to describe dating Russian men. It was  “No Means Yes, and Yes Means Anal.”

Not surprisingly, the attitude toward rape in Russia is still depressingly medieval. “It happens. That’s life,” my mother would say with a shrug as she heard about a recent rape victim on the news. However — and here’s where we have to be honest with ourselves and admit that the popularity of bodice-ripper romances and all the statistics about rape fantasies are not for nothing — with the right guy, a sensually brutish approach can be astoundingly hot.

When I met one of my Russian boyfriends, he had (as is customary) come by the house several times to take me on long walks and brought cake for me and my parents, never once making anything remotely resembling an advance. One night, I was lying in my room fantasizing about him (he was sleeping downstairs), when I heard my bedroom door creak. Moving through the darkness, he sat on the edge of my bed and stared at me for a few moments. Then he gently fingered the strap of my silk nightgown and said, “This is a beautiful slip.” And then, with a sad sigh, “It’s going to be a shame to tear.” He said it the way you would look at your watch and say, “I’m not going to make it to my appointment,” like he knew what was going to happen, and there was nothing either one of us could do to stop it.

While I am all for slow, sensual, Barry White lovemaking, there comes a point with a sweet and simple Westerner when all the “Do you need a pillow?” “Does that hurt” “Would you like a glass of water?” questioning makes me wants to scream This isn’t a dinner party. You’re not writing an essayJust let go. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman wants a man who’s a gentleman at dinner and an animal in bed. You want to completely transcend the cognitive prison and corporeal self in which we are always encased, becoming nothing but senses. This the Russian man understands. He leaves behind any semblance of propriety, responding only to primal urges, losing himself in you entirely. Of course, the major downside of this caveman treatment is that Russian men still follow the egotistical “sex is a favor that women do for men” mentality (i.e., it’s still not customary for Russian men to perform oral sex, although they will expect it), treating female sexuality like it’s something that only afflicts nymphomaniacs.

Love in a Russian man is expressed in a type of tender savagery. When I was a kid, my mother and her friends used to say, in one part dark humor and two parts wistful sigh, “If he hits you, that means he loves you,” referring to the fact that there’s a brutality to love, that the emotion is so totalitarian and overwhelming that it can’t be physically restrained. So Russian men crush your body, not because they want to hurt you, but out of an excess of feeling. They squeeze you tightly because they want to possess you fully, and to possess always means, to some extent, to first destroy. They bite your neck and bruise your arms for the same reason that tigers claw on the trees to mark their spot: to show other beasts of the jungle that you are taken, that there is a man to whom you belong.

It’s important to emphasize that this brand of chauvinism isn’t the abhorrent “shut up and make me a sandwich” kind but more along the lines of old-fashioned chivalry, which is why Russian men are quintessential gentlemen on first dates. Russians like to make occasions out of everyday rites, so men will make gestures to convey that going on a date with you is a special event in their lives. They bring flowers and little gifts (I have an entire hideous gold animal menagerie from a previous Russian admirer). They open the door for you and pull out your chair. They ask if you’re getting enough water and vigilantly top off your wine (as a woman, you never ever pour wine). They tie your shoes for you if they see your laces are loose. They always, always pay, proudly frisbeeing their credit cards at the bill, idly chatting and signing the check without even looking at it. In Russia, having a man pay for you obligates you to absolutely nothing, just as having him walk you home means absolutely nothing (Note: the latter is not the case in England). It’s just him doing what he needs to do, as a man, to take care of you, a woman. And before you start crying out sexism, what’s worse? To pay for a woman because women are less economically advantaged, or to pay for a woman’s meal and believe it entitles you to sex, as so many men do in the West?

More enticing than any of these old-fashioned gestures, however, is a Russian man’s body language. I get offended when I go on a “date” with an American guy, and after nothing but sterile conversation and hanging out for a few hours, he lunges at my face like a pre-pubescent. Russian men act like your boyfriend from the very beginning. They put their hand on the nape of your back as they gently lead you to the table. They stroke your arm as they carefully lay their coat on your shoulders even though you told them you’re not cold. They hold you, caressing your hair and kissing you on the forehead, putting their arms around you in a way that lets every other man in the universe know that you are his girl. Not only does this build up the tension to the first kiss and establish a strong sense of intimacy before it happens, these gestures reinforce the sense that affection and sex go hand in hand, that this unique bond that you’ve embarked on obligates you to one another in some way.

Which brings me to one of the best and worst things about dating a Russian man: his inherent sense of commitment. Here in the West, we may think we have it made with our “egalitarian system,” but when I look around at our hyper-individualized relationships, at our “you’re not obligated to anyone in any way” mentality, it seems brutal and barbaric. In New York, whenever I console a friend who’s in hysterics over yet another guy who wants to keep having sex but “just wants to be friends,” I can’t help but get enraged and want to call up one of my Russian friends for moral support. Russian doesn’t have a word for girlfriend, only wife and bride, so men approximate by saying “my girl,” “my bride,” or the English transliteration of girlfriend.

But there isn’t any close approximation of “friends-with-benefits”– a term I often struggled to deconstruct to groups of confused Russian males. It is telling, in this context, that the Russian translation of Hollywood movies “Friends with Benefits” and “No Strings Attached” are “Sex Without Obligations” and “Just Because He Promises to Marry You Doesn’t Mean He Will.” How can you be friends with a girl you’re sleeping with? If you’re having sex, she’s your girlfriend, simply because your decision to sleep with her makes you in large part responsible for her physical and emotional well-being. And when I’m trying to cheer up some of my casual sex victims who can’t even telephonically reach their super-autonomous beaus, I can’t help but feel like there’s a certain honor in the Russian man’s understanding that with great sex comes great responsibility, an ethical code that we in the West have almost totally lost.

I used to do an audio comprehension exercise with my Advanced English class in which the students listen to a couple arguing about whether or not to move in together after a year. The class always failed the accompanying questions, not for linguistic reasons so much as cultural ones. Why, they asked, didn’t the man want to move in together? In Russia, it’s still customary for people to be married (or even divorced) by the time they’re 20. When I asked my Advanced English class how long a couple should date before moving in together, they stared blankly back at me, as though time had never come into consideration for this decision, until one student shrugged his shoulders and said, “If you like her — one day,” to hearty nods of approval. To judge this decision in terms of time seems excessively rational to Russians, when it’s obviously a case of emotional intensity. When I recount this story to my Western guy friends, they look like they are about to have a heart attack, but why? Rent is expensive (especially in New York), and if you’re not religious and you’re spending virtually every night together, it seems economically unreasonable to live apart purely to uphold some abstract socially mandated principle.

And yet, the rush to commit comes with a catch. As in most chauvinistic societies, monogamy is more of a lofty ideal than a requirement, and there is a double standard to it. I can’t recall the number of times I was sitting in a café in Russia when a girl came in to see her friend and said, “Sorry I’m late. My boyfriend cheated on me,” to which her friend rolled her eyes and said, “Again? When is he going to kick that habit?” as though they were talking about him failing to put down the toilet seat. I posed a question once to my Western and Russian friends: Is it more disrespectful to have casual sex with a girl and not call her your girlfriend, or call her your girlfriend and cheat? The Westerners said the latter, as though it were obvious, the Russian ones said the former, as if that were obvious. Having experienced both, I really don’t know anymore, although I respect the way one of my Russian friends explained it, in a sort of Sartrian epistemology: “Listen, human nature is fucked up. It’s more honest, and more humane, to just lie.”

In the end, it’s not the wandering penis that makes me incapable of making it work with a Russian guy. It’s the precise patriarchal style that I find so attractive in the first place. It’s them never respecting that I have my own schedule and that I can’t exist exclusively around their time frame. It’s them calling me every hour to check up on where I am and what I ate, like a needy parole officer. It’s them taking a cup of coffee out of my hands as I’m about to sip it, chucking it into the trash, and saying, “That’s enough. You’ve had too much caffeine today.” I may have been born in Russia, and I may have two passports, but I grew up in New York, and no one gets between me and my coffee.

And still, sometimes, when I’m in my egalitarian relationship with an American guy, and I’m freezing my ass off in a mini-skirt outside while being eyeballed by some pervert and my boyfriend is giving me the “You’re an independent woman and you can handle this yourself” look, I can’t help but long for the protective paws of a Russian man, can’t help but feel torn between what I learned at my feminist university and what I grew up with in my patriarchal community, can’t help but feel an internal battle between my rational beliefs and my emotional desires, and I think what every person thinks when they are frustrated with their love life: Man, my parents really fucked me up.

Diana Bruk was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, and raised in New York City. She is the managing editor of Brooklyn Exposed, and her writing has been featured in VICE, Nerve, and more. You can follow her on twitter @BrukDiana.

If you are considering a membership at an Eastern European dating agency, the ONLY reputable agency that I have found is Elena’s Models:

The use of copyrighted material in this website is protected by the Fair Use Clause of the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, which allows for the sharing of copyrighted materials for the purposes of commentary, criticism and education.  All shared material will be attributed to its owner and a link provided when available.

All other stories, posts, reports, photos, videos and content on this site is copyright protected © and is the property of the Western Women Suck blogpage, all rights reserved.

Back to home page: http://westernwomensuck.com

Follow the Man

… Krishka…

Been away for a few weeks & a bit surprised to see all that I’ve missed. Just catching up on Seth’s posts now – seems like he’s made some good progress.

First off – I got married last weekend. So now I’m experiencing the life of a married man LOL. Best thing is that I finally have some honeymoon vacation time: some time to rest, read a little and to do some creative writing.

In the past 3 or 4 years, a lot of friends and colleagues ask me (a lot) about the differences between Eastern and Western Women. And really, unless you’ve had a relationship with an Eastern European Woman, no matter how much telling you get, you’ll never really understand. The biggest difference, if I had to name just one, is that Russian Women expect to be Women and expect Men to act like Men. If you’re a Western Man, you might think that you act like a Man, but chances are, you’re more of a “Western Gentleman.” And this doesn’t really work well with Eastern European Women. Trust me fellas, you think you’re being a “nice guy” and in reality, most women don’t respect it.

I found an article on one of the Russian forums – I’ve been looking for it again and I seem to have misplaced it. As soon as I find it, I’ll put it up. It is written by a Russian-American Woman who is explaining the differences between the Male-Female relationships in America and in Russia. She really nails it on the head.

In the meantime, I saw the profile of Krishka (above). In her Elena’s profile, she says what she’s looking for in a Man. Now, if you find this a little different than what you’re used to in dating Western women, then go back up and read the 3rd paragraph of this article. She says:

I’m looking for an intelligent and confident, kind and friendly, loving and caring man with whom I’ll have a plenty of chemistry. The man must be the head of the family. So he should be older and more mature. And the woman’s duty is to respect his opinion even if it differs. I would love to meet a man who is caring, optimistic, patient, honest as I am. All I wish is to be happy and to share this miraculous feeling with my man. It sounds simple, but the greatest things are usually very simple. Do you agree? [emphasis added]

Sometimes, even when I’m wrong, Alana takes my side. Later, I say, “I was wrong about this or that,” and she says, “I know (knew).” But, she always takes my side. I think of so many American Men I know, we’re at dinner and they say that this or that happened 3 years ago and their wife corrects them, “No Dear, it was 2 years ago.” Alana has commented to me that she was mortified when she first heard this, “Why don’t American women support their Men?” I guess this is a big difference: Feminism teaches independence. Patriarchal Russia teaches interdependence. A Man should always take his Woman’s side and she should do the same. Really, the idea of family (couples) in Russia is a united front whereas in America, its two individuals competing for control of the relationship.

At first, the difference seems subtle but it really is a huge difference.

Don’t think that it is all cake and champagne though; having a Woman who acts like a Woman means that you must step up to the plate and act like a traditional man. This encompasses being a Gentleman and being confident, a family leader and you will be expected to take care of your Woman in all ways.  And don’t think that this task is too easy.  Russian Women like to look nice. In contrast to American women in their baggy sweat pants and sweaters, a Russian Woman will go to the 9′s to dress in beautiful dresses, high heels and will have nice nails, hair and other things that you probably never thought about. Trips to the cosmetologist, the nail salon and the mall for new clothes is par for the course. If you want your Woman to look nice, you’ll be expected to take care of her (financially). I’m not talking unreasonable expenses but I’m saying that it is something that you’ll be expected to cover if you’re the Man of the house.

The one truth that stands out more than any other is that again and again, as I meet Western Men who have married East, they all say that they will never go back (to Western Women). I’ve heard this again and again, “Even if in 10 years I get divorced, I would only look again in Eastern Europe.” Interestingly, the divorce rate is lower for Western Men who marry Eastern European Women than if they marry a woman from their own country. As I know Alana more and more I understand why: Eastern European Women expect that marriage will be for life. Most Western women have the attitude that if it doesn’t go well, she will clean up in divorce court and find a new man. Just having the attitude that its “do or die,” “all or nothing” has a huge impact on the chances for success in marriage. Eastern European Women think like this whereas Western women don’t.

If you are considering a membership at an Eastern European dating agency, the ONLY reputable agency that I have found is Elena’s Models:

The use of copyrighted material in this website is protected by the Fair Use Clause of the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, which allows for the sharing of copyrighted materials for the purposes of commentary, criticism and education.  All shared material will be attributed to its owner and a link provided when available.

All other stories, posts, reports, photos, videos and content on this site is copyright protected © and is the property of the Western Women Suck blogpage, all rights reserved.

Back to home page: http://westernwomensuck.com

Since I Got Back: Summary

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After Valerie reconciled with her ex-boyfriend, I immediately purchased a place on the May Dream Connections tour and got my vacation and flight plans arranged.  I also started dating women in Ukraine (more like they started dating me).  Between them and the platonic dates I set up back in the U.S., I’ve been on about a dozen dates.  I’ve been approached by about 20 other women, whether domestically or foreign (Ukraine mostly, but also Columbia, South America, and even Africa once).

I’ve met some pretty nice American girls, and when I’m on my one date with them I ask them the same question…Where were you before I was set to go overseas?  They never have a good answer.

Right now, I am scheduled to return to Ukraine for two weeks every two months.  Meaning I get to spend about 25% of my time in Ukraine until I find her (“her” being my half).  I don’t honestly see myself needing to go back more than one or two times, however, considering I almost had it locked down last time.

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I got to meet this girl last time, but didn’t get a chance to date her.

I talked to Anna Davis last week.  I got to choose my translator (a fun one with an excellent track record of making matches) and gave her my list of 5 girls I want to see when I go back.  As I understand, she will be leaving for Ukraine a month before I return and asked for my permission to use me as girl-bait (or more specifically, my pictures/profile) and to pre-setup some dates for me before I come over.  Such is the burden of being an attractive international bachelor *sigh*.

The five I want to see on my return trip are a mix of girls I met already and one I haven’t met before but received personal recommendation on (pictured below).

addss

If you are considering a membership at an Eastern European dating agency, the ONLY reputable agencies that I have found is Dream Connections Tours and Elena’s Models:

The use of copyrighted material in this website is protected by the Fair Use Clause of the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, which allows for the sharing of copyrighted materials for the purposes of commentary, criticism and education.  All shared material will be attributed to its owner and a link provided when available.

All other stories, posts, reports, photos, videos and content on this site is copyright protected © and is the property of the Western Women Suck blogpage, all rights reserved.

Back to home page: http://westernwomensuck.com

Dream Connections Recommendation

Dream Connections is a U.S. based romance tour organization founded by Mark and Anna Davis.  A successfully married American/Ukrainian couple, it is the belief of this author (Seth) that they are doing everything reasonably possible to foster the relationships with more international couples and to create a community where these relationships are celebrated.  The openness of their business as well as the ability to contact them easily is one of their most qualifying attributes.  What really sets them apart, however, is their care and attention to screen not only the women attending their events, but the men as well.

For their contributions to the education of Western men about relationships with Eastern European women alone, Dream Connections stands out as the leader in a shadowed industry.  Mark Davis hosts weekly public seminars to educate men, as well as another weekly program to foster dialogue between his clients.   One of the greatest assets of working with his company is the personal attention given to your individual scenario and free counseling (almost) any time, even if you are not a client.

I would highly recommend considering what Dream Connections has to offer if you are new to international traveling or desire to court Eastern European women in a more structured setting.

If you are considering a membership at an Eastern European dating agency, the ONLY OTHER reputable agency that I have found is Elena’s Models:

The use of copyrighted material in this website is protected by the Fair Use Clause of the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, which allows for the sharing of copyrighted materials for the purposes of commentary, criticism and education.  All shared material will be attributed to its owner and a link provided when available.

All other stories, posts, reports, photos, videos and content on this site is copyright protected © and is the property of the Western Women Suck blogpage, all rights reserved.

Back to home page: http://westernwomensuck.com