Category Archives: Men, men, men
January was an interesting experience, as regards matters of the heart. Interesting, I say, as a way of deflecting the bad-taste-in-mouth feelings that came up. In December I found myself catching the feels for someone I’d known casually for awhile and not given that much thought to. That is not so long ago but given that I was coming out of a dry spell, anything in the range of attraction-affection felt big and intense. I’ve spent most of these weeks trying to discern what is, what I’m feeling and where this goes. It’s important for me to correctly understand what I’m feeling and act accordingly rather than vomit it out in a tantrum and hope for the world to make sense of it.
The good parts of these weeks were feeling desired and attractive. That was really, really good. That’s possibly why it took me some time to realise they weren’t real feelings and that I had inadvertently fallen into somebody else’s game, a game that I had no part in.
There’s no easy way to say this. I’ve written four drafts and all of them are rubbish so I’ll just say it. There’s a guy and there’s a girl. The guy calls her a good friend. The girl calls him a variety of things, depending on who is being spoken to and whether or not he is in the room (ranging from ‘jaanoo’ to well, stories about how he farts in her face when he wakes up next to her in the morning). The guy talks about how exclusivity is a patriarchal concept, how he is the constant in the lives of his friends-with-benefits (who purportedly have partners that are not constant for them). The girl says she knows he sleeps with other people but at least he tells her about it which is better than her last guy. The guy strings her along with “Later”, “Not now” while he’s on dates with others. The girl marks her territory by showing up at the restaurants where he’s on dates.
And why this is a game is because of what happens after. Girl and guy ride off together, often with the hapless date in tow. Sometimes in place of a date, it’s a damsel-in-distress to assuage the guy’s saviour complex. Only said damsels are just needy enough to be allowed mild PDA but never given the status of an actual object of affection. Once the date/damsel-in-distress/Jealousy Object has been discarded or dropped off, guy and girl ride off into the moonshine they’ve built together. Happily ever after.
I realise why I was so ‘confused’ as I described it all these weeks. I do not like being an object of any kind. I am not a fucking dildo for someone else’s messed up headgames. I’m not a sex toy to make somebody else’s fucked up relationship interesting. I do not like being used. I do not fight territory battles over people because people are not property. I’d like to say I don’t play games in relationships but that would be naive so I’ll just say this is not the game I play. Not the jealousy game, no.
I’ve been Sex Object a lot of times. I’ve buckled under the burdens of Affection Object (wherein man showers all his gawdawful poetry/singing and assumes his role is done with the hard work of building a relationship, managing the in-law people and the emotional labour of the relationship falls to me). And now I’m realising I’ve also occasionally been the Jealousy Object. This is the prop that (usually) men use to make the woman they’re with, feel bad about herself so (presumably) she won’t think to leave them.
This is the behaviour exhibited by numerous ex-boyfriends who’ve never been that nice to me but make sure to tell their current partners about how slim I am (body-shaming is the first play in the book of a Jealousy Game player). I’ve also been the ‘She’s more successful than you’ prop’ and the ‘So much cooler than you’ thing on account of my recent stage career.
I have never liked it. It’s a horrible thing to do a person and no, it doesn’t not feel like a compliment to me. Firstly, it is not a compliment to me to be used to make another woman feel bad. Secondly, there is nothing complimentary about using me as an object to incite some feeling in a relationship with someone else. That’s no better than a picture in Playboy that a man might use mentally to get off, were he not feeling that attracted to his partner.
Not that the girl’s behaviour is anything I want to feel empathy over. The feminist in me shies away from outright shaming but honestly, settling for someone who behaves badly is just a bad idea. What’s more, this willingness to play along and assert territoriality in desperate ways weakens things for all women. And finally and most important to me, it is directly disrespectful to me. I don’t care how badly you’ve been treated before or how weak you are or how much you care about him — none of these will ever be good enough reason for you to use me.
Ugh, I am utterly disgusted by both people’s behaviour, no matter how objectively I try to look at it. As some kind of poor consolation prize, I guess I’m lucky I got out with not too much harm done and at least with a post to boot.
Argh will it ever stop, this discovering of how fucky-ass fuccbois (and their complicit females) can be?
P.S. – Here’s another worthy piece of content that came to be because of the above experience.
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THE DIMMER I thought you were intelligent his tone matches the sudden darkness that falls as I scramble for clarity, fumble to see I'm confused, I say and as the lights come back on, I know I've said something wrong We were building a conversation on vulnerability and feelings, never the easiest building blocks And he has stopped building, ceased contributing Did he ever contribute? But… I thought you were intelligent, he reiterates, His critical look pinpointing my unshed tears and I swallow, tears, feelings, doubts, me This is how we begin orchestrated self harm, cutting away pieces of ourselves that he doesn't deem right editing our emotions like hanging threads on a neckline that must only show soft curves and empathy for his feelings He fiddles with the switches and it's clear again All's right, he's right and the messes don't show I thought you were intelligent But you're not being very intelligent right now I smell the acrid odour of things that char without flames And this is how we allow men to determine our self-worth with their scales of control their measures of self-interest disguised as logic This is how we barter away pieces of our souls for one scrap of validation, a morsel of attention I thought you were intelligent But you're not being very intelligent right now And the darkness is now inside me And the gas vapours don't hurt my eyes any more It's still and it's peaceful As my eyes adjust, so do my breaths Clarity can come in a dark room and battered lungs can still adapt to poisoned air As I watch him fumble in my direction, I hear myself say Dim the gaslights I will burn on. #theideasmithy #blog #relationships #menandwomen #men #women #gaslighting #abuse #emotionalmanipulation #emotions #emotional #genderpolitics #toxic #conversations #toxicrelationships
Yes, that’s what I said. Yes, all men. Yes, as an entire gender.
Notice how much male-generated noise there is in the world? In politics, in art, in the media, in popular culture, in coffeeshops and bars and drawing rooms and boardrooms and bedrooms. There are more men in the world and they are saying much more. Ergo, they generate more verbal clutter. This is not a gendering accusation. It’s simple statistics.
I ran a small experiment. I looked up the term ‘Silence’ on Pixabay. All the images of people that came up on the first page were of women doing the finger-to-lips gesture. Others were of serene landscapes and peaceful places. Even some animals. But no men. Silence is not an attribute to be associated with men.
On the other hand, when I tried looking up ‘Speak’ on the same site, I found images of frogs, monkeys and men. This was the first picture that had a woman in it. Notice the number of men and their body language in it.
The dating scene, the art beat, the corporate world — these are all rife with men making verbal jumps without caution. Mansplaining, manspreading, constant needless aggression — just what makes an entire gender keep at this, despite all evidence of it only being damaging behaviour? I think it’s because men are constantly being pushed to be the opposite of quiet. The trick is to keep talking, they seem to be told. Let the verbal diarrhoea run, regardless of sense, propriety, reason or consideration. Keep speaking because if you don’t, you will will cease to exist. Doesn’t that explain why trolls and meninists bash on with statements that mean nothing at all? Or why men uniformly descend to aggression, even threats, when they reach a verbal stop? Because when they run out of words, they think their existence is running out unless they keep well, running. Even if they run all over the other person.
Consider this. Women are constantly being pushed to quietness. Silencing by bullying, by harassment, by ridicule, by social convention. Speak softly, speak of small things, speak little or better yet, not at all. In fact, quietness is prized as a virtue in a woman. Do not be a speaker, a thinker, an individual. Be a puzzle, a prize, an object.
If female, be seen, not heard.
By stark contrast, men are NEVER told to be quiet. If a man is quiet, it must be in a hyper-glorified character like Silent Brooder. Or Cryptic Wise Man. Or Damaged (subtext: sexy) Bad Boy. If he cannot pull these off, he can always plead shyness (“Aww, that’s sweet”) or social anxiety (“Here, let me take care of you”). Like being male and being quiet are not simultaneously possible or healthy and efforts must be made to change this situation immediately. His very silence must be turned into a story that screams loud enough to catch the world’s attention.
If male, be HEARD, even if you don’t have anything to say.
That’s a tall order for a gender that science believes is not as good at communication or social skills. Silence may be a female prison but maybe it is also a female prerogative. Some of us rage on about allowing women a voice. The other side of it is to get men to shut up and to let them shut up. We need to teach our men that their existence is not built of words only and that their value goes beyond what comes out of their mouths.
So please, men, just BE QUIET. Shhh.