I hate men! I can't abide them even now or then.
~ Cole Porter, Kiss Me Kate
Confession time ~ I don't really hate men. I actually like men. Some of my best friends are men. I find them aesthetically pleasing, useful for lifting heavy things, and often amusing. Apparently, men like me as well. This is not a bad thing. Usually, anyway.
As arrogant as this sounds, generally speaking, men tend to have one of two reactions to me. Within six months of meeting me, they either a) believe themselves in love with me (to the point that I have actually said to guys after knowing them for days "Don't fall in love with me" and had the response be "I think it's too late" bless them, isn't that endearing?) or b) want to chop me up into small pieces and bury me in the backyard. Luckily, there are exceptions to this rule. I find the men in category a incredibly sweet and try to be as gentle as possible with them. I find the men in category b somewhat amusing, actually, and just try and avoid them. I find the men in the exception category to be my dearest friends and the men I count on the most.
So what has me quoting Cole Porter quoting Shakespeare? The fourth category. The class of men who move from category a into category b. They are the ones that make me hate men. They are incredibly frequent. And why do I hate them? Because the exact same behaviors that made them think they were in love with me in the first place are the behaviors that make them want to chop me up into little pieces and bury me in the backyard.
The flirtation. The un-tamed-ness. The passion for life. My willingness to write for a sexy men's magazine. My refusal to go gently into that dark night. The tight clothes and the free laugh and the fuck it attitude. The belief that it is truly better to regret doing something than regret not doing it. My free spirit.
Sometimes, men think that they are allowed to demand I change those things simply because they believe themselves to be in love with me for being that way in the first place. When they discover I disagree with their assessment of the situation, they have to hate me for it. Which I hate. Which I do not find sweet or endearing. Which I do not treat gently. Which I do not value. Which is very difficult to ignore. Which gets me quoting Cole Porter quoting Shakespeare ~ which always makes me just a little happier in and of itself.
Disclaimer time ~ this post is not about my Dear One, any of my fellow bloggers, my Muppet or any other man who is worthy of being mentioned here.
Those are Pobble Thoughts (and grrrrrrrs and frustrations and ventings.) That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
5 comments:
"He may have hair upon his chest, but sister, so has Lassie! Oh I hate men."
Men are attracted to all of those free-spirited things until they feel you belong to them. Then you MUST behave yourself lest you reflect negatively on them or draw other male attention to yourself. It's like they peed on your leg to stake their claim, so you must become obedient...Like we'd ever "belong" to any of them. Sheesh.
We've had this conversation. Men are, well, male, and testosterone is liquid evil.
Absolutely true. Men do have a tendency to want to change someone once they "stake their claim."
I'm guilty of it.
yup...what Pooble said!
I tend to think insecurity underlies the want to change a partner. They become attracted, they get invested, then (possibly?)are sure that other men will undobtably find you just as alluring. So changing those things that brought them to you will "ensure" their comfort zone. So to speak?
Even though it's a pain to wade through, and even though it hurts when we forget that we are good being who we are and should not change it for anyone, nobody deserves a person in their life telling them negative things or forcing changes where they don't need to be. And it's definitely a life better lived without that person.
My opinion, anyway.
I'd have to say that we live in a world where many want to change all of us...it seems to be the human condition and it sucks.
Figure it out, make it work for yourself, and leave everyone else alone.
Too simple, too easy.
STB
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