Dating a Dutchman? Never Again

This somewhat controversial piece was sent to me by a lady who I’ll call Dutch, Loud and Proud. The Shallow Man recently posted a request asking for contributions from guest bloggers, and amongst the pieces received was this one. Now I’ve been procrastinating about publishing this piece for reasons that will become obvious if you read further.

On behalf of the author, I’ll add a disclaimer that this is entirely based on her own experiences and preferences.  The author wishes to remain anonymous, and I intend to respect that request. So without further delay, we’ll move to the post, Why I’ll never do a Dutchmen again.

No Dutchman, no cry

I joined the dating game a few years ago, but I wouldn’t call myself inexperienced. Don’t worry, this will not be one of those graphic novel-type stories. However much I like to kiss and tell, I understand that subtlety is a virtue and that not everybody can appreciate the gore and raunchiness I’d unleash. Instead, I’d like to focus on the caucasian Dutch Male. More specifically, I’d like to present some arguments and examples on why not to date them. Since I’m a thoroughbred Dutch girl, I will do what my people do best. In other words, there will be a lot of generalization going on. I lack nuance just as much as the next Dutch person. So if you lack the ability to put things in perspective, get ready to have your feathers ruffled.

How not to flirt

First, let us be clear on what is implied when I speak of the native Dutchman. Let’s start with the looks. Most Dutch men can be recognized by their gelled back locks, dime a dozen t-shirts, ill-fitted jeans to compliment and to top it all off, a pair of run-down shoes, preferably Converse or the like. So far not too different from any other caucasian male from any given race or culture. What really sets him apart is his demeanour. Unless a Dutchman is comfortable with your presence or he is surrounded by his pack of friends, you can count on him to be very introverted and awkward. The sheeplike gaze that you get any time you try to make eye contact from across the room or on the street comes from the utter astonishment you leave the poor guy in. Such sophisticated flirting is unheard of amongst the Hollanders.

Either the woman walks up to the guy and expresses her sexual interest in him in a rather upfront fashion, or of course, the Dutchman tries to break the ice with his female victim by promptly insulting her. However much you’d like to punch the guy in the face for his rude comment, you most certainly should not.

Dutchmen terrified of Dutch women

“Jeroen, this face is leaving the bar in ten minutes, would you like to be on it?” Noortje’s subtle flirting terrified the life out of Jeroen

You see, to a native Dutchman, telling a woman she’d be much prettier if she’d lose 8 lbs and the glasses she’s wearing after having slapped her ass (i.e. being rude) is a way of being direct. As we all know, directness is a virtue, and it should be appreciated as such. Other caucasian men wouldn’t even dare to dream of doing anything like sexually assaulting a woman as a means of flirting with her.

Why I don't do Dutchmen

“Right, I’m prepared; all I need to do now is slap her on the butt” Jan Willem needed some more flirting advice

Why I don’t go Dutch

Yes, I despise native Dutch men. Can you tell? I think my dislike for Dutch men started back when I was little. Born and raised in Amsterdam Zuid Oost, I’ve always been exposed to a plethora of different cultures and their heritage. When puberty first hit me, I, of course, had a couple of crushes on Dutch boys, but soon I realized my boobs weren’t big enough, my hair not blonde enough, and my ass was not as flat as they’d prefer it to be, and my opinions were too strong and outspoken. My heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces every time I got rejected by Jan, Willem, Niels or Pieter.

Soon I started dating men of colour. They embraced my looks and loudness. I guess maybe my big and powerful presence reminded them of their mothers in some ways. They like to tell them what’s what, and so did I. After my first boyfriend, more men followed. With every man I dated, the difference between men of colour and Dutch men became clearer.


Of course, it’s like disliking certain vegetables or drinks: you can’t say you don’t enjoy dating the Dutchmen if you haven’t tried. So I did. But unlike cigarettes, dating Dutch men doesn’t get better with everyone you smoke. Their passiveness, presumptuous air, and disdain for women and people of colour infuriate me too much. Whenever you try to pin them down on their close-minded behaviour, they revert back to their 17th-century state of being and start channelling their 4th-grade presentation on Dutch tolerance. When explaining tolerating isn’t the same as accepting, they get pissed, throw out some racial slurs and call you a stupid woman-person whose sole purpose is to pop out babies and shouldn’t hurt her pretty little head over such complicated issues. Consider the argument finalised.

Okay, so that might be a too specific example. Let’s just say I’m stubborn, and so are most Dutchmen. I inevitably end up arguing with them about everything. They’re much like women in that they also like to be right about everything all the time. The problem, however, is that since I’m always right, Dutch men will often get the shit end of that stick, and they don’t like it one bit. So unless a girl is going to be meek, compliant, and doesn’t talk back, they’d rather hit the road.

So I end up dating a man of colour again. They adore the stubbornness, letting me go off instead of trying to curb my ranting and make it into an argument. Somehow they understand that a woman needs to vent. They understand that a woman is a passionate entity that needs the right type of attention and counterweight to flourish as a person and to use her fieriness in a productive way.

It’s a skill these men learned over the years, having their mothers teach them how to be functional and constructive people in a world filled with women. You see, in most foreign households, the mother is seen as the boss. She decides. Whereas in Dutch households, the patriarchy is very much alive and kicking. I guess that’s the main reason I can get with men of colour but refuse to date any more Dutchmen. Why would I opt for an unequal relationship with a Dutchman, where I’d be valued less than the man when I could be treated like a proportionate counterpart? I’ve made my choice, and I’m going to stick with it.

The Shallow Man would like to thank

Dutch, loud and proud for her guest blog piece. After reading that, you can understand why she should remain anonymous. She started the piece by saying that she’d be generalising and certainly did.  All views are her own; obviously, her perception is her reality.

Till next time.