He’s Just Not That Into You

Why do smart, capable, beautiful women tie themselves in knots trying to decode a man’s confusing behavior? Why do we invent excuses like “He’s scared” or “He’s crazy about me but not ready”? In He’s Just Not That Into You, comedian Greg Behrendt and writer Liz Tuccillo argue that most of this confusion could be eliminated by accepting one plain truth: if a man genuinely likes you, he’ll show it. If he doesn’t, no excuse in the world can change that. The book delivers one tough-love message repeated throughout its chapters—quit rationalizing and start recognizing your worth.

Born out of a moment in the Sex and the City writers’ room, this idea broke through decades of dating denial. When Greg bluntly told a confused colleague, “He’s just not that into you,” the statement sliced through layers of wishful thinking. The truth felt uncomfortable but liberating. Liz Tuccillo, one of the show’s writers, realized the statement encapsulated the dating revelation most women needed: stop overanalyzing mixed signals and take men’s behavior at face value.

The Premise: Men Are Not That Complicated

Behrendt insists that men’s actions, not their excuses, reveal their real feelings. A guy who wants you will call, ask you out, show up, and make it clear that he’s interested. Period. When a man disappears, cancels plans, or avoids commitment, he’s broadcasting one thing: he doesn’t see you as the one. Women, however, often resist this message because we’ve been socialized to think we can fix or inspire a man’s interest through patience or self-improvement. Greg and Liz call that thinking “a waste of the pretty.”

Knowledge is Power—and Time Saver

Rather than depressing, the realization that he’s not that into you should feel freeing. Once you stop interpreting his silence as mystery and start treating it as rejection, you get your time and self-respect back. Liz explains that this truth “saves hours of waiting by the phone” and ends emotional sleepovers filled with “maybe he’s intimidated” theories. Instead of wasting time pondering why he didn’t call, you can move on to someone who will.

This knowledge also empowers women to rewrite the expectations of dating. Society often tells women to be accommodating, to chase subtly, or to make sacrifices for love. But Greg reframes it: you shouldn’t have to chase what wants to catch you. The right man will make it clear. This mirrors the practical empowerment found in books like The Rules but adds a friendly, comedic realism rather than rigid strategy.

Assume You’re the Rule, Not the Exception

We love exceptional love stories—couples who beat the odds, men who come back, or the classic “he was scared, then realized I’m the one.” But Greg and Liz insist that those fairy tales are distractions. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, if he’s not enthusiastic, you’re the rule, not the exception. Believing you’re the exception keeps you stuck in denial. Accepting you’re the rule helps you move on.

“He’s Just Not That Into You” isn’t cynical—it’s compassionate realism. Knowing the truth earlier hurts less than waiting months for someone who never truly wanted you.

Why It Matters: Reclaiming Emotional Energy

Women often rationalize bad behavior to avoid pain, but that avoidance ironically deepens the wound. By understanding the “not that into you” principle, you protect your self-esteem. You stop feeding the illusion that you can transform indifference into devotion. Greg admits that men rarely fear intimacy or “forget to call”—they just don’t want to “lose an arm out a bus window” telling you the truth. Their avoidance of honesty springs from cowardice, not confusion.

Most importantly, Liz reframes the lesson as empowerment, not defeat. Recognizing that someone isn’t into you doesn’t mean you’re unworthy; it means you’re discerning. You deserve a man who doesn’t leave you wondering, who matches your energy, and who treats your beauty, humor, and intellect as irreplaceable. As Liz says, “Don’t waste the pretty.”

What to Expect in the Book

Across fourteen witty, empathetic, and often brutally honest chapters, Greg and Liz explore every popular excuse women make for emotionally unavailable men—“He’s busy,” “He’s scared,” “He forgot to call,” “He’s married but leaving her.” Each chapter deconstructs one rationalization and reveals its painful but liberating truth. For example:

• If he’s not calling, he doesn’t want to call.
• If he’s married, he’s married—no exceptions.
• If he disappears, your closure is self-granted, not requested.

The book concludes with an empowering call to action: raise your standards, trust the evidence, and refuse to settle for half-hearted affection. The world will reflect your expectations. This message echoes through Liz’s final words—optimism may be annoying, but it’s the only stance that leads to love. Theirs isn’t just a dating guide but a manifesto for self-worth disguised as comedy.

Greg Behrendt begins by dismantling one of the most common excuses women make: “Maybe he’s shy.” In reality, men have no difficulty asking out women they truly want to date. The first chapter argues that if he hasn’t asked you out, it’s not due to shyness, confusion, or trauma—it’s simple disinterest. As Greg writes with trademark sarcasm, “Men run the world. Why would you think we can’t handle dialing a phone?”

Excuses Women Make

To illustrate, Behrendt fields pretend letters from female readers. One woman, Jodi, explains that her long-time friend flirted with her but never followed up. Greg’s reply: “He’s had ten years to figure out if he’s attracted to you.” Another woman blames workplace hierarchy—“He’s just intimidated because I’m his boss.” Greg answers, “If he didn’t pick up the vibe after you brought beers, it’s not his fear of authority—it’s lack of interest.”

These scenarios mirror what psychologists like Brené Brown later describe as “narrative-making”—the brain’s need to invent stories to avoid emotional pain. By turning rejection into mystery, we spare our ego. Greg’s humor cuts through that fog with truth: when men want something, they find a way. The man who tracked down “Lindsey Adams” through the phone book after she refused her number exemplifies that relentless pursuit.

Men Like to Chase

The authors emphasize an often unpopular point: men enjoy pursuit. They derive satisfaction from chasing what they want. Liz confesses how infuriating it felt to “do nothing” when taught her whole life to hustle for success. But unlike career goals, romance runs on biology and desire, not persistence. When you lead the chase, you disrupt something fundamental about attraction. As Greg quips, “Don’t let him trick you into asking him out.”

Waiting vs. Empowerment

Liz reframes “waiting” not as passivity but as power. When the man does the asking, he shows initiative. That’s when you—the prize—decide whether he measures up. While waiting, focus on yourself: the job, the laughter, your friends. The book’s playful “workbook” even invites you to write down your excuses, then ask, “Do I sound pathetic?” It’s brutal honesty as medicine.

The Takeaway

The chapter closes with a simple but transformative rule: a man who likes you will make the first move—always. If he doesn’t, it’s not a mystery; it’s math. For readers raised on romantic comedies where the girl wins the commitment prize through persistence, Behrendt offers a sobering reminder: movies glorify the exception, not the rule. Real men, like real love, don’t need decoding—they need receptivity.

“You are good enough to be asked out.” It’s not arrogance—it’s healthy self-respect.

In another unforgiving yet funny section, Behrendt demolishes the “he’s busy” excuse. With cell phones glued to every hip, there’s no plausible reason for a man who likes you not to call. If he’s not calling, texting, or showing up, you’ve already got your answer.

Busy Is Bull

When one woman writes about her long-distance boyfriend who rarely calls but says “honeys” and “babys” during the rare conversations, Greg replies, “The only distance here is between you and reality.” Another complains her man forgot to call because of his sick mother. Greg’s response: “He packed a bag and traveled—he had time to dial.” These letters show how women confuse apologies for affection. Words mean nothing; consistent action means everything.

The Symbolism of the Phone Call

A phone call becomes symbolic—a miniature trust test. If a man can’t honor the simplest commitment like “I’ll call tomorrow,” he’s foreshadowing future disappointments. Behrendt even compares calling to “the first brick in the house of love and trust.” A man who ghosts your texts is showing you his architectural skills—or lack thereof.

Liz adds empathy: women know the rule, but still struggle when excuses sound plausible. She reminds readers to look inward at the physical feeling these excuses cause. A pang of unease after he doesn’t call? Normal. A knot of anxiety every time he flakes? That’s your body’s alarm.

Respect Over Rationalization

If he doesn’t call, he’s telling you his priorities—and you’re not on the list. Behrendt calls “busy” the relationship’s Weapon of Mass Destruction. “Busy,” “important,” or “crazy week” equals “you’re unimportant.” Respect means showing up, even in small acts. Observing this rule saves women from self-betrayal disguised as loyalty.

“You deserve a fucking phone call.” Simple as that.

When women internalize this principle, they shift from chasers into choosers. They stop checking voicemail obsessively and instead start planning their own lives. Love should bring calm, not chaos.

When Greg and Liz tackle “hanging out” relationships—where you share intimacy but not commitment—they dismantle the illusion of progress. “If you’re not really dating, you’re not really being loved,” Greg writes. The defining marker of real affection isn’t how often you sleep together but how clearly he integrates you into his life.

Murky Isn’t Romantic, It’s Convenient

Lisa, for instance, sleeps with her newly divorced friend who “can’t handle expectations.” Greg calls out this “friendship with benefits” as a paradise for lazy men: endless comfort, zero commitment. Or Keisha, whose boyfriend spends four nights a week with her but swears he “isn’t ready.” Greg decodes it: “I don’t want to be your boyfriend” means exactly that.

Better Than Nothing Isn’t Enough

When women accept occasional dates or once-every-two-weeks sex, they label crumbs as meals. Lydia, who convinced herself biweekly dates were progress, becomes Greg’s case study in compromised standards. His response is fierce: “Better than nothing is not good enough for you.”

Honesty as a Gift

Liz admits that confronting vagueness is excruciating; nobody wants to sound “crazy” by asking for clarity. But ambiguity, she explains, drains emotional energy. Asking “where is this going?” isn’t neurotic—it’s self-preservation. In healthy relationships, clarity feels natural. Murkiness is the symptom of imbalance, not sophistication.

When you hesitate to define the relationship because you fear the answer, you already know it.

Greg concludes this chapter with simplicity: when men are into you, they claim you. They want everyone to know you’re theirs. The so-called “almost” relationship is usually just “almost” love—and that’s never the same thing.

Across several chapters, Behrendt and Tuccillo expose behaviors that broadcast disinterest louder than words: refusing intimacy, cheating, or disappearing. Each behavior, instead of being complex psychological mystery, has one translation—he’s not that into you.

Lack of Sex Means Lack of Desire

When a man isn’t sexually interested, women rush to invent noble causes: “He’s spiritual,” “He’s scared,” “He respects me too much.” Greg corrects: if he likes you, he’ll want to touch you. Human attraction doesn’t skip physical expression. Refusal of intimacy isn’t sensitivity—it’s avoidance.

Cheating Is Non-Negotiable

Greg reserves his sharpest contempt for cheaters. The reasons—boredom, stress, “no sex at home”—are invalid. Infidelity signals both cowardice and disrespect. His advice: “Lose 175 pounds—of lying boyfriend.” Liz adds perspective: at the relationship's start, when trust should bloom, betrayal kills everything. Forgiveness might feel noble, but it anchors women to someone who already undervalued them.

Disappearing Acts and Closure Myths

In perhaps the book’s most wrenching section, Greg explains that when a man disappears—ghosts, vanishes, drops contact—it’s ugly, but definitive. His silence is closure. Calling to demand explanations will only double the humiliation. Liz empathizes with how painful this feels: “There’s nothing worse than realizing you weren’t even worth a goodbye.” But she urges readers to grant themselves closure instead of begging for it.

Closure doesn’t come from him finally confessing—it comes from you finally believing him the first time.

Each of these chapters teaches boundaries. Whether through neglect, betrayal, or cowardice, the moral is consistent: don’t negotiate your dignity. “Being loved badly is worse than being alone.”

After demolishing every romantic excuse, Behrendt and Tuccillo rebuild the reader’s outlook around one goal: higher standards. In the final chapters, they guide you through resetting emotional boundaries and rewriting your own rulebook for what love should look like.

From Reaction to Intention

Up to now, you might have been reacting to men—waiting for their texts, rationalizing their silences. The authors redirect that energy inward. They propose a written list of “superhelpful standards”—an emotional constitution. Examples include: “I will not date a man who has already rejected me” and “I will not date a man who doesn’t call when he says he will.” These become vows to protect self-respect from erosion.

Deprogramming the Exception Mindset

Women often cling to “miracle” stories: the man who came back after years apart, the cheater who reformed. Greg’s advice—stop listening to those stories. They’re cinematic outliers that keep you addicted to false hope. You’re not being cynical; you’re being accurate. Life’s happiness increases with truth alignment, not fantasy maintenance.

Optimism Without Delusion

In their closing remarks, both authors balance realism with hope. Greg’s line “Don’t waste the pretty” isn’t about vanity; it’s about valuing emotional beauty. Liz grudgingly admits his optimism can be “annoying,” yet she realizes pessimism doesn’t lead to joy either. Believing love exists—and that you deserve it—creates the conditions for it to show up.

Set standards not to exclude possibilities, but to protect your peace.

By the end, readers understand that the book’s idea isn’t anti-men—it’s pro-self-esteem. “He’s just not that into you” becomes a mantra of discernment: if he’s not showing up for you fully, there’s someone else who will. The irony? That clarity, grounded in self-worth, is the very thing that finally attracts the right one.