What To Do When He Steals Your Swag: Deconstructing Emotional Philanthropy
I’m going to describe to you a situation that may leave you feeling upset. Your heartbeat may spike, you might even break out into a cold sweat:
You meet a guy that your friends describe as a “fixer-upper.” He doesn’t have any clear hobbies. His idea of culture involves a day spent playing video games and drinking beer with his buddies on the couch. His fashion sense is….questionable at best. But through it all, you choose him to enter a relationship with. You invest your time, energy, and money into helping him improve. You take him shopping, show him your favorite movies and books, and open him up to a world of taste and curation. In taking in all of the beautiful knowledge you bestow upon him, he becomes your perfect match.
Then, he dumps you. And you’re left reeling with the sting of being wronged by someone you gave a chance despite initial inequalities. You can’t believe it. Before you, he wore cuffed cargo pants and went months without a haircut. Now? He walks around in selvage denim, almond milk latte in hand, flexing his refined taste. He posts it on Instagram. He uses it to reel in new women. This is all terrible, of course, but the worst part is that no one will know that all of these things belonged to you first. You’ve had your swag stolen.
Feeling triggered? You're not alone. I can’t count the number of female friends I have who have experienced this horrifying phenomenon, myself included. And like everything, it does not exist in a vacuum. It is a symptom of a concept I call emotional philanthropy, also often referred to as “charity work” or a “swag gap.” Call it what you want, the foundation remains the same. By sharing music, art, hobbies, literature, and other forms of expression, these “charity case” boyfriends gain the social capital of having advanced cultural tastes without doing any of the work of cultivating these interests. Then, they leave you in the dust to enjoy the benefits of your hard-earned style without giving any credit.
It begs the question, why do we subject ourselves to relationships that feel more like investment projects than romantic emotional connections? My theory is patriarchal social conditioning. In a society that tells young girls that having a boyfriend is the ultimate goal, it is no surprise that these types of relationships exist.
Whether through the systemic rigidity of religion or the unrelenting daily act of social conditioning, it is a known golden rule that to be a good person means to be generous. It is ingrained that putting our own needs aside to help others is a noble pursuit, rewarded with your pick of good karma, entrance to heaven, or endless social credit. Women, especially, are socially groomed to believe that selflessness is the ultimate quality. This is not a revelation; it is a pillar of the patriarchy. Subservience and selflessness are documented as part of traditional femininity. Not only that, but women are ferociously encouraged to find a man to love them and lower their standards to do so.
But what happens when this old-school expectation translates into the modern dating scene? Emotional philanthropy. We take what we can get from the men who show us interest, despite inequalities in taste or ambition. We lend our wonderful qualities to them in an attempt to make them better, putting ourselves at risk of the aforementioned theft of personality.
When discussing this with friends and pondering it myself, I have struggled to find a simple answer on how to avoid emotional philantropy and its subsequent effects. The easiest way may be just to be more careful with who we choose to date. We can choose to immediately measure our qualities against any potential partner and make a calculated assessment of who would be investing more into the relationship. Then we could avoid these relationships altogether. But I recognize that this solution is so utterly unromantic. So instead, I offer a softer solution, and it is to intentionally monitor your relationship as it is unfolding. Ask yourself, is this fair? Am I still pouring into myself, or am I spending all of my time bettering him that I’ve forgotten to care for my own wellbeing and growth? Do I feel like this relationship is making me more potent in my being, or watering down my personality? If these questions herald uncomfortable answers, it may be time to seek love elsewhere.
By checking in with ourselves and truthfully observing our own relationships, we can avoid the horrific experience of practicing emotional philanthropy only to be punished in the end for our kindness. By being more selfish and choosing our happiness and well-being over our partner’s, we can protect ourselves from this pain. Further, using this practice subverts the expectation that women exist to make men better. By prioritizing yourself, you break cultural expectations and fight misogynistic repression. Easier said than done, I know. But maybe it is time to make a change in our modern dating scene, and choose to keep our swag right where it belongs.
