I usually make a point to say that there is more good out there than bad. I try to illustrate that people are complex, and have a lot of different experiences and situations that have influenced them throughout their lives. I always say it's easy to label someone based on one or two aspects of their personality, and totally miss the rest of the things that make them human.
Basically, I try to remind people that most of us are good, not evil. Even people with some really fucked up views can be kind and generous and caring.
I firmly believe that, too. I think when you make a snap decision on a person based on a comment or two on social media, you might be cheating yourself, and missing out on all the other things that person, and humanity, bring to the table. I'm guilty of that as well, depending on my mood, and I'm not proud of it. We live in polarizing times, and we are being conditioned to choose a side first, ask questions later, but don't even actually ask questions later because anyone who disagrees with you is instantly worse than Hitler.
So we should work on that a little. If you simply jettison everyone from your life who doesn't think exactly like you do, then you are effectively eliminating everything that makes humanity into humanity, and gives us any advantage to survive and progress. You might think “it's just Facebook, I haven't even met most of these people in real life, who cares?” The problem is, you're training your brain to think that way, and your brain isn't going to make that distinction between real life and social media. You will eventually isolate yourself everywhere, and live in a sad, lonely bubble, where nothing challenges you to think, just like a lot of the people you claim you hate.
Now, all that said, even good people are capable of some pretty horrible things. Normal, everyday, decent human beings can say some really horrible shit from time to time. Most of them don't even understand why it's horrible. Sometimes it can make me feel physically ill when see some of the hateful and nasty crap that spews from someone who up until then seemed perfectly fine. Of course, sometimes I go back and look at it later and realize that I was projecting other horrible people’s comments and attitudes on them, and in hindsight, it doesn’t seem nearly as bad as it did an hour earlier. Emotions can cloud your judgement, and past experiences can dictate our responses, which is often why people have bad or damaging viewpoints in the first place.
That’s when I have to remember all the good things I liked about them up until that point. It's then that I have to realize that if I'm going to try to hold myself to a higher standard, and actually make the world a better place, then I should really engage them respectfully and try to understand why they think the way they do, and to voice an alternative opinion. Chances are you’re not going to change their minds. Not by calling them names. Not by dismissing them and treating everything they say as stupid and wrong. Not by condescending or berating them. By being calm and rationale, though, you might plant a seed in their mind, and give them something to think about.
And yeah, that's not an easy thing to do, especially in these times when it seems like the whole world is run by psychopaths and is about to fall apart. It's so hard to keep your cool, and remember that even though some people have some pretty drastic and horrible views, maybe they are worth saving. Maybe they are victims themselves. Maybe they are lost and scared and lashing out. Maybe they are pissed off and even they aren’t sure why, they just know that things aren’t right. They might even be mad about the exact same things you are, but they don’t have your perspective, or the support and nurturing that you grew up with, or capacity for logic or reason. Maybe that's how they were taught to deal with problems and their emotions.
Of course, maybe it's not your job to fix them, or care about whether or not they figure it out. Maybe you shouldn't have to care if these people just go on feeling broken or damaged, and it possibly fucks up their families and children, and it infects the world even more. Because don't kid yourself, you're broken or damaged somewhere as well, and if you think you're not, you're even more broken and damaged than you think. Perhaps you know how to fix yourself, and if so, you’re very lucky, but what about all the people who never got those tools? What does a truly loving and kind person do, abandon them, or help them out? Keep in mind, everyone like that who you abandon is most likely just going to be an impediment or an enemy moving forward, so aren’t you hurting yourself as well?
Maybe it's just really, really hard to even imagine doing any of that, and it's too big a thing to ask of yourself to try to change the world. Maybe changing the world doesn’t come from simply attacking and denigrating the people who make up the world in the first place. Changing the world involves changing minds. It involves changing attitudes, and tempering reactions, and providing different viewpoints. It involves nurture and care and patience, and a whole lot of understanding and perseverance. So yeah, it is so nearly impossible to change the world when you consider what you actually have to do to achieve it, one little bit at a time.
But people change the world everyday, people we look up to and admire and want to emulate, and not one of them ever did any of it the easy way.
So if you really want to change the world, what exactly are you going to do?
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
PSA for anti-Trumpers
PSA for anti-Trumpers: don't waste your time getting into fights with Trump supporters who think that this summary from the AG clears him of anything, or that this whole thing is over. It's not. But Trump lovers don't really live in the real world, that's been established a long time ago. For whatever reason, they want to believe that he's good for the country. Some might be fooled, some might be racist xenophobes, but the vast majority have no clue about most of the garbage they parrot from Fox News. Like I keep telling everyone, they don't actually care about politics or people or the country, they just want to feel like they do to cover up the fact that they are just angry and feel marginalized and condescended to, that's what draws them in. If they actually sat down and analyzed the situation and themselves, they would see that, but that's not how their brains operate. They just feel cheated for whatever reason, they want things to remain the same as they live in their arrested development, and want someone or something to hit back, whether it's the enemy or not. There will always be a segment of the population that fears change, and feels like the world passed them by. They want to return to a time when they felt like they mastered, or that had some control, which most likely never even existed. That is how unscrupulous leaders have controlled mobs since time began, by playing on their fears and emotions. So let them crow about how they think this is the end, when it's really just the beginning. If you really thought that the fight would end in some magical moment when the report came in and forces would swoop down on Trump and haul him to jail, and he would go quietly, you're delusional. Here's the thing about battling corruption and evil: you never ever stop battling it, because it will always be there, and it will always fight back. What's your option though if you're a good person and you have the capability to see it? Just ignore it, and let the world burn? There are enough people willing to do that, don't become one of them. That's what the enemy is counting on. This investigation and report is going to be a gift that keeps on giving, and anyone who tries to cover up or dismiss any crimes contained within it are going to be called out on it. Everyone involved is now under a microscope. This is where it gets fun, people, don't bail now!
Friday, March 8, 2019
International Women's Day
So today is International Women’s Day, and by now you know with me that things could go either way. I could get all cynical, and talk about how one symbolic day a year means nothing, and is a joke, considering all that women do, and how sad it is that one stupid day is supposed to make up for all the shit they have to deal with. Or, I could go on about all the injustices and inequalities that exist, and write some big thing pointing it all out and how important it is to support women.
But no, I’m just going to tell you about some of the strong women in my life.
I was lucky enough to know two of my great grandmothers. The first, who we simply called Mother, was a spitfire. I have heard countless stories about how she didn’t take any shit from anyone, and was a self made woman back in a time where that wasn’t an easy thing to be. There is a story I heard about her when I was young, and I can’t say if it’s entirely true or not, but supposedly she was dating a fairly well to do guy, and she found out he was cheating on her. Legend has it that she showed up in public and tried to horse whip him!
I got to meet Mother later in life, when she was near the end. She didn’t get around much, in fact, she went into a nursing home by the time I was about five, and I didn’t see her that much afterwards. Whenever I did see her, she did nothing but tell me not to take any shit and be proud of myself and strong. You might think that is a lot to lay on a preschooler, but it was actually pretty helpful.
My favorite Mother story is one that I don’t really remember, but my mother tells me about it all the time. I was probably three or four, and I was sitting on Mother’s lap, and my mom came into the room just in time to hear Mother tell me “Remember Dave, whenever anyone tries to tell you what to do, do the opposite!”
My mother freaked out, and chastised her for telling me that, but I have to say, the lesson stuck. I question everything, and I’m really good at spotting bullshit, so it’s not that easy to get one over on me. That’s what Mother was always trying to teach, that there are a lot of people out there who are full of shit and want to take advantage of you, so be on guard.
My other great grandmother was Mar, which might have been short for Margaret, or just the way “ma” came out with our Jersey accents. Mar was my favorite person on earth as a little kid. She was tough as nails, but also very loving and caring. She lived with my parents, even before I was born. To illustrate how no-nonsense and direct Mar was, after my brother was born, my father was driving home with her from the hospital. She told my father that my mother wouldn’t be able to perform her wifely duties for awhile, she hoped he understood that. My father awkwardly assured her that he did, but to make sure she added matter-of-factly “you can do what the boys did on the farm when I was young, and put a piece of liver in a can and use that.” My father drove on in stunned silence, grappling with the fact that his wife’s grandmother told him he could fuck a can of liver if he got horny.
Mar helped raise my brother, and helped raise me. Like Mother, she always demanded respect, and she expected you to understand that life wasn’t always easy, but there was no use complaining about it all the time, you just kept at it. Later, when we got a little older and moved, and she went to live on her own again, she would still come for overnight visits. I loved that. Mar had a way of making you feel very special, and I ate that up. She had possession of the family bible, and we have a very rich family history. One of my favorite things that was in there was the newspaper from the day Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. My Great great grandmother adored Lincoln, and saved the paper from that day, and put it in the bible. It always fascinated me, and before bedtime, Mar would take it out from the bible, and we would read it together, and I would hear stories about her life and of relatives I never knew who were dead long before I was even born. She promised me that I would get the bible, or at least that newspaper when she was gone. It felt like my birthright.
She ended up living with her son and his wife, in a basement apartment in my aunt’s house. I used to go see her whenever I went to sleepover at my cousin’s, which was a pretty regular thing. I remember one time when I was older, maybe 12 or 13, and my cousin and his friends were picking on me, and told me to go home. So I did, but my aunt was away, and the house was locked, so I went downstairs to see Mar. She told me not to worry about those jerks, and asked if I wanted a sandwich. I told her I would like an egg sandwich, which in my mind was either egg salad, or just a sliced hard boiled egg. She asked what I wanted on it, and I told her mayonnaise and lettuce, and she looked at me funny and asked if I was sure about that. I told her I was, and was shocked when put down a sandwich containing a fried egg, over easy, with mayo and lettuce on it!
Now, to show you how much Mar meant to me, and how I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I ate that whole thing. It was as gross as it sounds, and I was one of those kids who was a very finicky eater, but I would have rather eaten a hundred of those sandwiches than make Mar feel bad.
Mar died a few years after that, and her son Mickey, who she was staying with, was married to a miserable and mean woman named Melba. No one in the family really liked Melba, and that included Mickey as well! She grabbed everything Mar possessed after she died, and wouldn’t let any of the family near it. There went my Lincoln paper.
Then, a few months later, Mickey got ahold of my mom, and gave her the newspaper for me. Mar had made it very clear to him that I was to have that paper no matter what, and Mickey stole it out of the bible and sneaked it out to me. One last thing that Mar gave me, that I treasure to this very day.
Both of those women pale in comparison to my mother. She is the strongest woman I know. She is the matriarch of our family, not in a domineering way, just with her quiet strength and dignity. No one has done more for our family, no one has sacrificed and held us together and cared for and loved us like my mother. We are all chafed by her at times, but we know she’s right. She is understanding and compassionate, while being completely no-nonsense and tough, which is not an easy thing to achieve.
My mother had a pretty rough childhood, but to hear her tell it, that’s just how it was, so why worry? She held everything together when my father was in and out of the hospital when I was a little kid, working, taking care of us kids, and visiting him in the hospital, never knowing if he was going to live or die. My brother and I didn’t know either, and we were terrified most of the time, but mom held us together. I remember we had to put our beloved dog Max to sleep while my father was in intensive care, and she handled it and us kids, and didn’t tell my father for a couple weeks because it would crush him. She told him in the car on the way home from the hospital, and it was the first time I ever knew my father to cry.
But my mother didn’t cry. To be clear, I’m sure she cried constantly, but never in front of us. And we were being jerks the whole time. My brother was on the cusp of his teens, and he processed his pain and fear by lashing out and acting up, and I kind of followed along. We didn’t make anything easy on her, but she handled it all somehow. It was then I realized the kind of strength that women possess. It something few men could ever understand. Women get the shitty end of the stick nearly all the time. They are condescended to, they are viewed as the weaker sex. They are looked upon as the whole Madonna/whore thing, expected to fill certain roles as wives and mothers and girlfriends, with little regard to who they are as a whole person.
My mother was always a whole person. My mother is who she is, unabashedly. She was always honest and open with us kids, and she was and is always there for us, no matter what it is we need. She has also made it abundantly clear that she is not our handmaiden. She raised us to be independent and secure and tough as well, although we don’t come close to being as tough as she is. My mother is very understanding and sympathetic, but can only take so much whining and feeling sorry for yourself before she kicks you in the ass and tells you handle it. And you respect that, because she has done that in her life countless times.
She doesn’t take any shit, either. You can’t put anything over on my mother, and she won’t tolerate anyone treating her kids poorly as well. There have been several times in my life when I remember my mother marching into school to tell a teacher or principal off, or coming out the front door to put a neighbor in their place. My mother isn’t an angry person in the least, but you do not want her mad at you, trust me!
So yeah, I was raised by strong women, and the three I have told you about here weren’t the only ones. My grandmother on my father’s side was a very strong and amazing woman as well, and my Aunt Ann is another strong woman I always loved. My sister in law is strong as hell. I know a bunch of strong women now, and I know to treat all women with respect, because the women who raised me demanded it of me. You will never have to worry about me leaving the toilet seat up, I can assure you that!
So happy International Women’s Day, even though one stupid day is almost an insult, and we still have a very long way to go in regards to how women are treated in society. One day does not begin to make up for it, but honestly, I don’t think most women really care that much. They know it, and they know about a whole world that we all live in that men are basically oblivious to; so yeah, they aren’t really counting on some special day once a year to make it all okay.
Women know better, trust me on that. Women are used to meaningless platitudes. They know the score, and they know the power they possess. Women know.
And men are going to find out sooner or later.
But no, I’m just going to tell you about some of the strong women in my life.
I was lucky enough to know two of my great grandmothers. The first, who we simply called Mother, was a spitfire. I have heard countless stories about how she didn’t take any shit from anyone, and was a self made woman back in a time where that wasn’t an easy thing to be. There is a story I heard about her when I was young, and I can’t say if it’s entirely true or not, but supposedly she was dating a fairly well to do guy, and she found out he was cheating on her. Legend has it that she showed up in public and tried to horse whip him!
I got to meet Mother later in life, when she was near the end. She didn’t get around much, in fact, she went into a nursing home by the time I was about five, and I didn’t see her that much afterwards. Whenever I did see her, she did nothing but tell me not to take any shit and be proud of myself and strong. You might think that is a lot to lay on a preschooler, but it was actually pretty helpful.
My favorite Mother story is one that I don’t really remember, but my mother tells me about it all the time. I was probably three or four, and I was sitting on Mother’s lap, and my mom came into the room just in time to hear Mother tell me “Remember Dave, whenever anyone tries to tell you what to do, do the opposite!”
My mother freaked out, and chastised her for telling me that, but I have to say, the lesson stuck. I question everything, and I’m really good at spotting bullshit, so it’s not that easy to get one over on me. That’s what Mother was always trying to teach, that there are a lot of people out there who are full of shit and want to take advantage of you, so be on guard.
My other great grandmother was Mar, which might have been short for Margaret, or just the way “ma” came out with our Jersey accents. Mar was my favorite person on earth as a little kid. She was tough as nails, but also very loving and caring. She lived with my parents, even before I was born. To illustrate how no-nonsense and direct Mar was, after my brother was born, my father was driving home with her from the hospital. She told my father that my mother wouldn’t be able to perform her wifely duties for awhile, she hoped he understood that. My father awkwardly assured her that he did, but to make sure she added matter-of-factly “you can do what the boys did on the farm when I was young, and put a piece of liver in a can and use that.” My father drove on in stunned silence, grappling with the fact that his wife’s grandmother told him he could fuck a can of liver if he got horny.
Mar helped raise my brother, and helped raise me. Like Mother, she always demanded respect, and she expected you to understand that life wasn’t always easy, but there was no use complaining about it all the time, you just kept at it. Later, when we got a little older and moved, and she went to live on her own again, she would still come for overnight visits. I loved that. Mar had a way of making you feel very special, and I ate that up. She had possession of the family bible, and we have a very rich family history. One of my favorite things that was in there was the newspaper from the day Abraham Lincoln was assassinated. My Great great grandmother adored Lincoln, and saved the paper from that day, and put it in the bible. It always fascinated me, and before bedtime, Mar would take it out from the bible, and we would read it together, and I would hear stories about her life and of relatives I never knew who were dead long before I was even born. She promised me that I would get the bible, or at least that newspaper when she was gone. It felt like my birthright.
She ended up living with her son and his wife, in a basement apartment in my aunt’s house. I used to go see her whenever I went to sleepover at my cousin’s, which was a pretty regular thing. I remember one time when I was older, maybe 12 or 13, and my cousin and his friends were picking on me, and told me to go home. So I did, but my aunt was away, and the house was locked, so I went downstairs to see Mar. She told me not to worry about those jerks, and asked if I wanted a sandwich. I told her I would like an egg sandwich, which in my mind was either egg salad, or just a sliced hard boiled egg. She asked what I wanted on it, and I told her mayonnaise and lettuce, and she looked at me funny and asked if I was sure about that. I told her I was, and was shocked when put down a sandwich containing a fried egg, over easy, with mayo and lettuce on it!
Now, to show you how much Mar meant to me, and how I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I ate that whole thing. It was as gross as it sounds, and I was one of those kids who was a very finicky eater, but I would have rather eaten a hundred of those sandwiches than make Mar feel bad.
Mar died a few years after that, and her son Mickey, who she was staying with, was married to a miserable and mean woman named Melba. No one in the family really liked Melba, and that included Mickey as well! She grabbed everything Mar possessed after she died, and wouldn’t let any of the family near it. There went my Lincoln paper.
Then, a few months later, Mickey got ahold of my mom, and gave her the newspaper for me. Mar had made it very clear to him that I was to have that paper no matter what, and Mickey stole it out of the bible and sneaked it out to me. One last thing that Mar gave me, that I treasure to this very day.
Both of those women pale in comparison to my mother. She is the strongest woman I know. She is the matriarch of our family, not in a domineering way, just with her quiet strength and dignity. No one has done more for our family, no one has sacrificed and held us together and cared for and loved us like my mother. We are all chafed by her at times, but we know she’s right. She is understanding and compassionate, while being completely no-nonsense and tough, which is not an easy thing to achieve.
My mother had a pretty rough childhood, but to hear her tell it, that’s just how it was, so why worry? She held everything together when my father was in and out of the hospital when I was a little kid, working, taking care of us kids, and visiting him in the hospital, never knowing if he was going to live or die. My brother and I didn’t know either, and we were terrified most of the time, but mom held us together. I remember we had to put our beloved dog Max to sleep while my father was in intensive care, and she handled it and us kids, and didn’t tell my father for a couple weeks because it would crush him. She told him in the car on the way home from the hospital, and it was the first time I ever knew my father to cry.
But my mother didn’t cry. To be clear, I’m sure she cried constantly, but never in front of us. And we were being jerks the whole time. My brother was on the cusp of his teens, and he processed his pain and fear by lashing out and acting up, and I kind of followed along. We didn’t make anything easy on her, but she handled it all somehow. It was then I realized the kind of strength that women possess. It something few men could ever understand. Women get the shitty end of the stick nearly all the time. They are condescended to, they are viewed as the weaker sex. They are looked upon as the whole Madonna/whore thing, expected to fill certain roles as wives and mothers and girlfriends, with little regard to who they are as a whole person.
My mother was always a whole person. My mother is who she is, unabashedly. She was always honest and open with us kids, and she was and is always there for us, no matter what it is we need. She has also made it abundantly clear that she is not our handmaiden. She raised us to be independent and secure and tough as well, although we don’t come close to being as tough as she is. My mother is very understanding and sympathetic, but can only take so much whining and feeling sorry for yourself before she kicks you in the ass and tells you handle it. And you respect that, because she has done that in her life countless times.
She doesn’t take any shit, either. You can’t put anything over on my mother, and she won’t tolerate anyone treating her kids poorly as well. There have been several times in my life when I remember my mother marching into school to tell a teacher or principal off, or coming out the front door to put a neighbor in their place. My mother isn’t an angry person in the least, but you do not want her mad at you, trust me!
So yeah, I was raised by strong women, and the three I have told you about here weren’t the only ones. My grandmother on my father’s side was a very strong and amazing woman as well, and my Aunt Ann is another strong woman I always loved. My sister in law is strong as hell. I know a bunch of strong women now, and I know to treat all women with respect, because the women who raised me demanded it of me. You will never have to worry about me leaving the toilet seat up, I can assure you that!
So happy International Women’s Day, even though one stupid day is almost an insult, and we still have a very long way to go in regards to how women are treated in society. One day does not begin to make up for it, but honestly, I don’t think most women really care that much. They know it, and they know about a whole world that we all live in that men are basically oblivious to; so yeah, they aren’t really counting on some special day once a year to make it all okay.
Women know better, trust me on that. Women are used to meaningless platitudes. They know the score, and they know the power they possess. Women know.
And men are going to find out sooner or later.
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
More Misogyny Crap 2
I’m 54, and I’m still single, so obviously none of my relationships worked out. Sometimes, things just didn’t work out. You find out after a while that you’re not soulmates or you just don’t mesh. Sometimes it was me. I wasn’t always the best boyfriend. I never lied or cheated or did anything horrible, but at times I just wasn’t always present. In my 20’s, I tended to be more casual about dating, unless there was really something there. I was always up front about it, but there were times I knew that it didn’t really sink in with some of the women I was dating, and I was just fine with letting them believe what they wanted. I could tell myself that I told them how I felt, and if they wanted to think that there was something more, well, that’s on them. Then there were a few times when I got to be on the receiving end of that, and it’s not fun. So I stopped with the casual thing. It had gotten kind of old anyway.
I am still friends with most of the women I’ve dated. They value our friendship, and I do as well. I have always regarded women as more than just an object, something you throw away when you are done with them. Just because the romantic part of the relationship didn’t work out, there was still a lot of other stuff that neither of us wants to throw away.
Now there were times when I was involved in some serious, long term relationships with women who were manipulative and even cruel. They did some horrible things to me. The last long term relationship I had ended very badly. She had some pretty severe mental health issues that she refused to address. Family members, friends, doctors, psychiatrists, and the police(!) would tell her all the time that she needed help, most doctors recommending 30 day inpatient treatment to start. She got worse and worse, and it nearly ruined me in the process. I couldn’t help her, I couldn’t save her, and I am still recovering emotionally and financially. Some of the things this women did to me are straight out of the most sensational and crazy soap operas you can think of. I didn’t think some of it was even possible.
Thing is, a lot of her problems were caused or exacerbated by the shitty things men did to her. In fact, most of the “psycho bitches” men like to cry about are pretty damaged by the men in their lives. Their fathers who weren’t there for them, or like other family members abused them, the men they dated who beat them or used them, the list is long and heartbreaking. The way women are treated in society is appalling.
None of that is meant to excuse all of their shitty behavior, but it certainly makes it easier to understand. I am still friends with most of those women as well. The only ones not in my life were the really abusive ones who really don’t possess the capacity to care about anyone, and who might pose a danger to me. There are a few who are still in my life, and are so damaged that they would take advantage of me if I put myself in a situation where they could, so I just don’t. I can still care about them, though, and still be a shoulder to cry on. Some of them don’t have that anywhere else in their life, so who am I to take that away from them?
I have no romantic or physical relationship with any of them. That’s not why they want me in their life. I am a true friend, and I’ve found that a lot of women don’t have many really close friends that they can trust and confide in, so they hold onto me. I always laugh, because some of them will tell me that I’m the girlfriend they always wished they had!
Now, the reason I am telling you all of this stuff that you could probably care less about, is that no matter what horrible experiences I have had, I don’t hate any of them. I don’t hate women. I don’t think that they are evil or horrible or insane. The ones who decided they just weren’t into my anymore, I just had to accept that. Usually not at first. I would try to convince them otherwise, sometimes I even begged them not to leave me. It seemed completely out of the blue at the time, and some of them had even started seeing someone else behind my back before they broke up with me. That’s pretty shitty, I’ll give you that, but it happens all the time. People are just that way.
I didn’t stalk them though, or threaten them, or call them names. After the initial shock, I have always understood that there is no point whatsoever in trying to chase someone who has made up their mind that they don’t want to be with you, and I move on. There is a little satisfaction in the fact that months or years later, most of the women who have done that have apologized, and told me how bad they feel about it. I usually just laugh and tell them not to worry about it, I survived. I don’t hold grudges.
Meanwhile, I see all these bitter and angry guys who hate women because someone hurt them once. They hate women, because no women want to date selfish, miserable jerks who sit around and blame the world for their problems. They hate women mostly because they are afraid of them, and they would rather control or abuse them than just try to be their allies. I see so much misogynist crap everywhere, and it pisses me off and breaks my heart that so many men are that fucked up. Not so much for the men, they have every chance and opportunity to change and break the cycle of thinking that has caused so much harm. Most of them haven’t really suffered at all, not in the way an abused woman has. A lot of men are just big babies, entitled and expecting a woman to give herself to them, simply because they asked.
I don’t let women off the hook completely just because they were treated badly either. Honestly, most every woman I know has been treated badly, and had to endure a lot of terrible things all through their life. Most of them have the tools and support to handle it, and they don’t let it break them. Some of them have some amazing inner strength inside them that just astounds me.
Some just don’t have that. They can’t cope with it, and it sends them into a downward spiral, sometimes for the rest of their lives. I admire the ones who have overcome the shit they have had handed to them, and the shit they still have handed to them everyday. I even admire the ones who are completely destroyed by it all and who have hurt me, because they still manage to get up every day and keep trying, even though they suffer with PTSD and anxiety and depression, and to them the world is a terrifying and confusing place. They tried really hard with me, but in the end, they couldn’t fight who they are because they never did the work, or overcame all the pain and resentment and anger. It might seem like they are just villains, but I see who they are and know what they have been through. There really aren’t many true villains in the world, just sick and broken people. There are also plenty of predators out there that are very good at spotting vulnerabilities and damaged people, and they don’t hesitate to take advantage, so many of these poor women don’t stand a chance.
So when I see men spouting off about men’s rights, or psycho chicks, or complaining that women don’t want to be their whore or their mommy, I get livid. It’s that kind of attitude that helped damage some people I care very much about. It also leads to the things that keep women from reporting rape and abuse, and coming forward to accuse manipulators and narcissists who take advantage of their position or power. So I call out these losers and douchebags, because that’s what society should be doing. You would certainly call out someone on social media saying children somehow deserve the abuse they receive. You would call out a racist or an animal abuser as well, so why not someone who is shitty and abusive to women? Why are misogynists just glossed over by most people? Why are so many excuses made for the men who abuse and harass and are demeaning to women?
Saying these horrible things to and about women is also triggering to women who have suffered abuse. They either have no empathy or awareness to realize that they are shitting all over someone else’s pain, or worse, they know exactly what they are doing. There is a portion of the male population that loves attacking and demeaning or scaring women on the internet. They threaten, mock, and in some cases give out their personal info so more of these misogynist creeps can attack them directly. I even have my reservations about posting positive stuff that supports women like this because it can trigger abuse victims, even if it’s sticking up for them. It’s a very delicate and personal matter.
99% of the time, women break men’s hearts, but men will destroy women’s lives. Men take rejection worse than women take sexual, physical and emotional abuse. There is usually no punishment for the things men do to women as well, or very little, in relation to the crime. Every day you see some case where the star athlete or the rich guy, or even just some plain schmoe gets a slap on the wrist for rape and abuse. Then men and some women complain about the poor men whose lives might get ruined for some “mistake” or “indiscretion”, not caring at all about the women whose lives are ruined.
So anyway, my point is that after some 38 years of failed relationships, I don’t hate women. I don’t see them as the enemy. I’m not afraid of them, or want to control them. I’m not patting myself on the back, or trying to look like a hero so I can get laid. That’s another tactic abusive jerks use, accuse men of “white knighting” so they are afraid to support women as well. I just want to point out that if I can survive the horrible things that women have done to me without being bitter and scarred, and resentful of an entire gender, why can’t the rest of the men manage that? Until you do, I’m going to keep calling you out, because someone has to.
I am still friends with most of the women I’ve dated. They value our friendship, and I do as well. I have always regarded women as more than just an object, something you throw away when you are done with them. Just because the romantic part of the relationship didn’t work out, there was still a lot of other stuff that neither of us wants to throw away.
Now there were times when I was involved in some serious, long term relationships with women who were manipulative and even cruel. They did some horrible things to me. The last long term relationship I had ended very badly. She had some pretty severe mental health issues that she refused to address. Family members, friends, doctors, psychiatrists, and the police(!) would tell her all the time that she needed help, most doctors recommending 30 day inpatient treatment to start. She got worse and worse, and it nearly ruined me in the process. I couldn’t help her, I couldn’t save her, and I am still recovering emotionally and financially. Some of the things this women did to me are straight out of the most sensational and crazy soap operas you can think of. I didn’t think some of it was even possible.
Thing is, a lot of her problems were caused or exacerbated by the shitty things men did to her. In fact, most of the “psycho bitches” men like to cry about are pretty damaged by the men in their lives. Their fathers who weren’t there for them, or like other family members abused them, the men they dated who beat them or used them, the list is long and heartbreaking. The way women are treated in society is appalling.
None of that is meant to excuse all of their shitty behavior, but it certainly makes it easier to understand. I am still friends with most of those women as well. The only ones not in my life were the really abusive ones who really don’t possess the capacity to care about anyone, and who might pose a danger to me. There are a few who are still in my life, and are so damaged that they would take advantage of me if I put myself in a situation where they could, so I just don’t. I can still care about them, though, and still be a shoulder to cry on. Some of them don’t have that anywhere else in their life, so who am I to take that away from them?
I have no romantic or physical relationship with any of them. That’s not why they want me in their life. I am a true friend, and I’ve found that a lot of women don’t have many really close friends that they can trust and confide in, so they hold onto me. I always laugh, because some of them will tell me that I’m the girlfriend they always wished they had!
Now, the reason I am telling you all of this stuff that you could probably care less about, is that no matter what horrible experiences I have had, I don’t hate any of them. I don’t hate women. I don’t think that they are evil or horrible or insane. The ones who decided they just weren’t into my anymore, I just had to accept that. Usually not at first. I would try to convince them otherwise, sometimes I even begged them not to leave me. It seemed completely out of the blue at the time, and some of them had even started seeing someone else behind my back before they broke up with me. That’s pretty shitty, I’ll give you that, but it happens all the time. People are just that way.
I didn’t stalk them though, or threaten them, or call them names. After the initial shock, I have always understood that there is no point whatsoever in trying to chase someone who has made up their mind that they don’t want to be with you, and I move on. There is a little satisfaction in the fact that months or years later, most of the women who have done that have apologized, and told me how bad they feel about it. I usually just laugh and tell them not to worry about it, I survived. I don’t hold grudges.
Meanwhile, I see all these bitter and angry guys who hate women because someone hurt them once. They hate women, because no women want to date selfish, miserable jerks who sit around and blame the world for their problems. They hate women mostly because they are afraid of them, and they would rather control or abuse them than just try to be their allies. I see so much misogynist crap everywhere, and it pisses me off and breaks my heart that so many men are that fucked up. Not so much for the men, they have every chance and opportunity to change and break the cycle of thinking that has caused so much harm. Most of them haven’t really suffered at all, not in the way an abused woman has. A lot of men are just big babies, entitled and expecting a woman to give herself to them, simply because they asked.
I don’t let women off the hook completely just because they were treated badly either. Honestly, most every woman I know has been treated badly, and had to endure a lot of terrible things all through their life. Most of them have the tools and support to handle it, and they don’t let it break them. Some of them have some amazing inner strength inside them that just astounds me.
Some just don’t have that. They can’t cope with it, and it sends them into a downward spiral, sometimes for the rest of their lives. I admire the ones who have overcome the shit they have had handed to them, and the shit they still have handed to them everyday. I even admire the ones who are completely destroyed by it all and who have hurt me, because they still manage to get up every day and keep trying, even though they suffer with PTSD and anxiety and depression, and to them the world is a terrifying and confusing place. They tried really hard with me, but in the end, they couldn’t fight who they are because they never did the work, or overcame all the pain and resentment and anger. It might seem like they are just villains, but I see who they are and know what they have been through. There really aren’t many true villains in the world, just sick and broken people. There are also plenty of predators out there that are very good at spotting vulnerabilities and damaged people, and they don’t hesitate to take advantage, so many of these poor women don’t stand a chance.
So when I see men spouting off about men’s rights, or psycho chicks, or complaining that women don’t want to be their whore or their mommy, I get livid. It’s that kind of attitude that helped damage some people I care very much about. It also leads to the things that keep women from reporting rape and abuse, and coming forward to accuse manipulators and narcissists who take advantage of their position or power. So I call out these losers and douchebags, because that’s what society should be doing. You would certainly call out someone on social media saying children somehow deserve the abuse they receive. You would call out a racist or an animal abuser as well, so why not someone who is shitty and abusive to women? Why are misogynists just glossed over by most people? Why are so many excuses made for the men who abuse and harass and are demeaning to women?
Saying these horrible things to and about women is also triggering to women who have suffered abuse. They either have no empathy or awareness to realize that they are shitting all over someone else’s pain, or worse, they know exactly what they are doing. There is a portion of the male population that loves attacking and demeaning or scaring women on the internet. They threaten, mock, and in some cases give out their personal info so more of these misogynist creeps can attack them directly. I even have my reservations about posting positive stuff that supports women like this because it can trigger abuse victims, even if it’s sticking up for them. It’s a very delicate and personal matter.
99% of the time, women break men’s hearts, but men will destroy women’s lives. Men take rejection worse than women take sexual, physical and emotional abuse. There is usually no punishment for the things men do to women as well, or very little, in relation to the crime. Every day you see some case where the star athlete or the rich guy, or even just some plain schmoe gets a slap on the wrist for rape and abuse. Then men and some women complain about the poor men whose lives might get ruined for some “mistake” or “indiscretion”, not caring at all about the women whose lives are ruined.
So anyway, my point is that after some 38 years of failed relationships, I don’t hate women. I don’t see them as the enemy. I’m not afraid of them, or want to control them. I’m not patting myself on the back, or trying to look like a hero so I can get laid. That’s another tactic abusive jerks use, accuse men of “white knighting” so they are afraid to support women as well. I just want to point out that if I can survive the horrible things that women have done to me without being bitter and scarred, and resentful of an entire gender, why can’t the rest of the men manage that? Until you do, I’m going to keep calling you out, because someone has to.
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