We must be lithe and fit, but never stronger or fitter than him. We must have magic, hairless vaginas and be spectacular in bed, but not so spectacular that we might have once been a slut. We must enjoy drinking, and be fun, and make his friends jealous of how fun and easy going we are, but never be a bad drunk and cry or be sick. We can’t care if he has a lapdance and we love watching porn, and we might even kiss another girl for his titillation, but our gaze must never, ever rest on a man more attractive than him. We must need him without being needy, support him without being too independent, and we must never betray the fact of life that it’s possible that our life might be better without him.