So You Have A Crush On An Icelandic Guy?

Having mostly grown up in the US of A, when it comes to dating I’m a little more used to the stereotypical ways of doing things. To boil it down simply: Girl likes boy, girl waits for boy’s attention, boy realizes girl is cute, boy asks for girl’s number, boy asks girl to hang out, they do, boy kisses girl, they live happily ever after.

Ok, I’m not quite this much of a romantic, but you get the gist. I’m used to being pursued, not the other way around. And I think most people out there can agree with me in saying making the first move is HARD. Doesn’t really matter what sex you are.

So don’t be surprised when the Icelandic guy you like doesn’t do any of the things listed above. He may slip you drinks while you’re bartending together just ‘cuz, and he may laugh lovingly at your American ignorance and out of place freak dancing, and invite you to morning after-parties that don’t even start till 8 a.m., but he definitely won’t ask you for your number. Don’t even think there is an inkling of a chance.

This is probably because the females in Iceland tend to do the picking and choosing, which basically evolved into doing all the work. It’s kind of like if the social constructs of sexuality decided to play a prank on everyone and resulted in complete role reversal (a sex fetish in the U.S. but a total reality in Iceland). Even though I’m making a ton of generalizations, after spending three summers in a row in Reykjavik I got to experience this phenomenon first-hand.

One summer went by and our relationship felt like nothing more than a summer fling. Another summer went by and things heated up to a few one-night-stands and a lot of chatting on Facebook. But it wasn’t until the third summer that my friend finally filled me in on what was going on.

Me: “I just don’t get why he doesn’t even ask me for my number or ask me to hangout. He only messages me to talk about music” (sadface).

Friend: “Girl you just gotta ask him for his number and make it happen!”

Was this really happening? I had to be the one to “make it happen”?


The reality finally hit me. To land my dreamboat Viking of a man, I had to grow a backbone, step out of my comfort zone and get what I wanted. And guess what? It worked out great.

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