Silly Things That Irritate

Have you ever had an absolute irritation of something that is completely irrational?  Something that has no effect on you or your life whatsoever?

Well mine is the way that Americans call a starter and main course "entrees and appetizers".

Here comes the fucks.  Sorry.

Entrees and appetizers ?  You are not fucking French!  Even then they get it wrong.  An entree is a first course, an APPETIZER, not the bloody main course itself! 

Americans do not even have what you could really call their own cuisine.  They cook from cuisines all over the world, but do not really have their own (and don't bring up barbecue because that is Caribbean).

For example, I saw a question on Reddit posed as "What is the American equivalent to someone breaking spaghetti in front of an Italian?"  The top answer was cooking a Philly cheek steak incorrectly.  

A FUCKING steak sandwich.

It is enough that they bastardise the English language.  It is herbs, not fucking erbs.    To quote Eddie Izzard, it has a fucking H in it!

Why does this anger me so much?  I have no idea.  

Sorry Americans.  Not sorry.

What irritates you irrationally?

Where Do We Go From Here?

 

When For Women Scotland won the appeal against the Scottish Government which in turn, cemented and clarified in law what we already knew, that women were and have always been biological women; I innocently thought that the fight had, not been won, but that we could move forward on the basis that the ruling would be adhered to.

Oh sweet summer child.

Some organisations have capitulated, the Transit Police for example rolling back their ridiculous decision to give biological men the power to strip search women. 

Crimes will no longer recorded as chosen sex, but the person’s actual sex (although I note some crimes go reported with no sex at all listed).

Many sport associations are no longer allowing men into women’s sports.

What has become apparently however, is that the powers that be simply don’t care about the ruling.

Unison, the country’s biggest union recently allowed a biological man to run for a female seat.  The Labour Women’s Conference has been postponed.   Some NHS Trusts and Local Councils are blatantly ignoring the ruling, still allowing men into women’s toilets and changing rooms, claiming that they need “further guidance”.

What further guidance is needed I ask?  Men cannot ever become biological women or be acknowledged as being so.  So says the Supreme Court.  They therefore do not belong in women’s spaces.

What these organisations are telling us, what the Labour Government is telling us (see also the text messages spread around by MPs after the ruling) is that they do not care.  The ruling means nothing to them and they intend to carry on as they wish.

For Women Scotland went through two judicial reviews and an appeal at the Supreme Court, expending over two hundred thousand pounds in the process to get there, not to mention hundreds of hours of time; only for us now to effectively be told that it doesn’t matter.

So what does this mean for women’s rights? When we win in the highest Court in the land, yet that ruling is simply ignored by those who wish to.

I think in some places the ruling was welcome.  I do not believe that many sport associations wanted a crossover of men in women’s sports, effectively ruining every sport that they entered.  But for many other organisations, Trusts, Councils, the Government; it clearly was not.

The trans agenda brings profit.  It allows control.  It brings a distraction when needed for the Government to wield. 

The trans agenda was welcomed, encouraged, assisted and promoted by those in power because it is useful to them.  Because they have their own agenda.  Why else let organisations mutilate children’s bodies with drugs that stem their growth and reduce their bone density.  Why else tell children that they can be born into the wrong body and that there is a quick fix to all their problems.   Why else wave through women’s bathrooms being made into gender neutral, allow men in our changing rooms and our rape crisis centres, removing our safety and safe spaces in the process.

What do we do now in the question?  Someone brings a Court case for each time the Supreme Court is ignored?  They know that this is going to be an impossible feat, not just from a financial point of view, or the time involved; but also because we now have to wonder, is there any point?

If the Supreme Court are to be ignored which it appears in many cases that they are being, how can we fight this?  Especially when our own Government clearly did not want the ruling and by “postponing” the Women’s Conference, they have made their stance quite clear. 

What I fear is that this will now escalate.  I fear that they will do away with the Equality Act all together, rewriting it so as to make the rights of men who pose and cos play as women, front and centre.

What I see is that the Government allowed this ruling to change the situation in things like sports, but had no intention of following through with anything else.  Which poses the question. 

How far down this rabbit hole of hell are we going to go?

Big Changes Afoot

 I started this year with a big change, the only change that I thought possible this year.  I moved into a new home with my boyfriend.  A house that would be ours.  To create new memories.  A new chapter.  It was to be the start of the rest of our lives together and still is.

But it appears that the world of change was not done with me yet.

I have worked for the same company since I was 18 years old.  Over 25 years ago, over half of my life.  I grew into an adult with that firm.  They saw the many stages in my life, the way that I grew and the various iterations of the person that I would eventually become.

People came and people went over the years, but generally it was a firm that people stayed with and some I have known for as long as I have been there.

But as everything does, things changed; certainly over the past couple of years.  The firm was bought out and the company that I knew, changed.  The soul of the firm was different.  Everyone feels it.  Suddenly, the thought of working elsewhere crossed my mind.

It was not just the change of the guard, it was other things too.  The person I had worked with for so longer was coming towards retiring.  I had moved departments with him a few years ago and the cases that we now deal with are traumatic.  The type that you take home at night.  That torment you. 

Last week I was approached by another firm, offering me a new job.  A new department, more money and a security that I felt was slipping away at my current firm.  At my age, an opportunity that I could not ignore.

So I went for an interview.  

Without telling you what I do,  I can tell you that people who want to do, actually do, my job are rare.  They don't want to be that busy.  They see it as a stepping stone.  They see it as something that you move on from.  

I am a lifer when it comes to what I do.  I am good at it and I enjoy it.  My aspirations in life are work to live, not live to work.  This is rare in my field.  As such, finding someone like me who wants to stay and commit is rare.  Sought after.  Something I didn't actually understand, until I went to the interview.

I was offered the job.

Yesterday, after much deliberation, soul searching and a lot of worry, I decided to accept and handed my notice in.

Is it the right decision?  For me, now, yes.  Will it be the right decision in the long run?  I hope so.  Only time will tell.  What finally clinched my decision however was the realisation that if this new job went south, would I want to go back to my current job and the answer was no.  

I have loved my current job and moving away from it will be hard and strange and new.  But I have changed so much over the years.  I have grown and the person who started at the firm all those years ago is not me anymore.  I am ready for a new challenge.

Another new chapter.  That is two this year.  Wish me luck!

When Older Men Hit On You - What I Needed to Hear at 15

I just saw a post on Reddit that made me pause, and remember.

The question was "Women who were hit on by grown men when you were a teenager, what did you do?"  The girl asking the question was 15 years old.

The one thing that men will never understand is how this feels when you are a young girl.  Your whole world changes, forever.  It is the moment your childhood ends because you realise that you are no longer safe.  You can no longer dance carefree through the world as you used to.  It does not change in one day, it happens incrementally.  The rules that will change you and cage you appear so very quickly.

I hit puberty early and started to develop breasts when I was 11.  

I used to go to a park very close to our home which had swings, a roundabout and a slide.  I used to like going to play there when I was younger and even at 11/12 I would still go there, on my own, swinging around on the roundabout with a book.

That particular day, while happily sitting on the roundabout, a group of older boys turned up.  They were probably 15 years old.  They started to talk about me.  "Look, she's got tits already!".  They could see I was still so very young.  They came closer to me, asking me if they could touch them.  I ran away home and thankfully nothing more happened.

There was an awkwardness, a lack of understanding and some fear about that day.  But it was explained away as silliness of older boys and not to worry about it.  Although with a warning perhaps not to go there alone again.  

Don't go out on your own, it isn't safe.

I started to notice that adult me were starting to treat me differently.  At first I brushed it off until I started to recognise the signs.  The way they spoke to you was different.  Not like you speak to a child.  Almost flirting.   But subtly.  It was the look in the eyes that did it.  The way they would tell me I was so pretty and that all the men would be after me soon.  With a certain look in their eyes.  The way they pressed just that bit closer than I was used to, than I felt uncomfortable with.

Back then, I  did not understand their intentions, but I knew that something had changed and I did not like the way they looked at me.  The way they stepped that little bit closer to me.  I felt like a rabbit being eyed by a fox.

Be careful with adult men.

The older I got, the more developed I looked, the more this came to happen.  Some men, even men I had known as a child looked at me in a different way.  Like I was a woman.  Except I wasn't.  By the time I was 13 my fellow male pupils started to notice my shape too.  The size of my breasts gained me a nickname at school, which I won't share here.  There was also a presumption that I was "up for it", purely based on that my breasts were large.

Cover up or you are asking for it.

Over time, as we all do, I learned how to get away from the older men and deal with them.  Boys were a a different story and the lessons of how to deal with my peers look far longer.

That is the advice that I shared on the Reddit post.

 I went through this. From 12. Be strong is the first thing. It can be hard and they can be persistent. I will tell you what I used to do, which worked generally.

Say loudly "You do know I'm only 15 right? Then walk away.

If you are stuck in the conversation or the room with the man, say at a family party or something, look at him direct in the eye and say to him in a normal tone "This isn't the way you should be speaking to a 15 year old. Leave me alone". Then walk away.

If you are in public, go up to the nearest woman and tell her what he is doing/saying. She WILL look after you. I never had a woman walk away from me. Because we have all been there.

Be strong OP. Look them in the eyes when you say the above to them. Make them feel as uncomfortable as they did to you.

Looking them in the eye was definately the key for me. Making them understand that I knew what they were doing and that I knew that he knew that how he was behaving was wrong.

Sometimes if I was at a gathering or party where I knew other women, I would repeat what the man had said to me to the nearest woman. "Hey Aunty June, Bob thinks I should go out on a date with him, what do you think?"

I was strong because I had to be. But there are things that I wish that I could tell that 15 year old girl now.

• Your worth does not go up and down depending on what you look like.
• If he is over 5 years older than you and he is flirting with you, do not trust him.
• It is not "cool" if an older men is flirting with you, no matter how attractive he is. He is a predator.
• If someone does something bad to you, TELL SOMEONE. It is not your fault.
• You will be ok, I promise.

What would you tell your 15 year old self?

An Ode to (the Old) Sex and the City

I preface this post by saying that when I write about Sex and the City, I am only talking about the series and the two films for the purposes of this post.  I just can't talk about "And Just Like That".

I remember when Sex and the City came across my screen in the 1999.   

Many people did (and still do) say that the show was purely about sex and shoes.  Fluff content.  True enough there is a lot of sex and shoes in SATC.  But there is also something much more in the characters of Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda that represent many women.

 

I saw something in each of those women that represented myself.  Things I was and things that I wanted to be but also, I saw my imperfections in them too.  That was the important part.  They were not perfect.  Far from it.  But I could identify with each of them in different ways.

 

I saw four completely different people, four friends, that were soulmates.  The four of them combined made one beautiful whole.  A friendship that would last forever and through anything.  A constant in each other's lives, forever.

 

First there was Carrie with her writing, her distinct sense of style and the men in her life.  Several men throughout the series, but she knew as did we, the one that would always have her heart.  Mr Big.  The One.   Carrie could also be self centred and more than a little self absorbed at times.  

 

I wanted to write like her, I lived vicariously through her sense of style that I would never come close to and I understood completely that once your heart is taken, you never really get it back.  I was lucky with that last one.

 

But also, I am also a little self centred and a little self absorbed.  I recognise it and try to work on it.  But it was nice to see a lead character portrayed as less than perfect.

 

I also saw myself in Charlotte.  Charlotte who wanted nothing more than to fall in love and marry.  Charlotte was also a little spoiled and thought nothing of giving up her successful career to be a stay at home wife, although with Trey, she had not thought this through.  The typical rich bitch, except Charlotte was not a bitch.  I’m not sure she would ever say the word, except in whisper.  But she believed in true love, real love, and the right “one”.  That definitely is me.

 

Then we have Miranda,  I could see so much of myself in Miranda too.  Despite her successful career, she had so many insecurities.  She pushed men away, especially Steve, until she realised, almost when it was too late, he was the one.  (Actively ignoring the new Miranda in the new series. That is not Miranda).

She was never without an opinion, even through her insecurities, which was brought out more in her by her friends.  She blossomed in those friendships.  She learned from them and with them and also learned to trust and love with Steve.  Miranda's journey to let down her walls, trust and love was something that I understand and have lived. 

 

Finally, Samantha.  I never wanted to be Samantha or aspire to her love for bed hopping.  But I appreciated her.  I loved her.  

Samantha was the best friend of all of them.  The better friend.  I feel she loved the rest of them the most.

 

I loved how unapologetic Samantha was.  She was beautiful and acknowledged it, but in a manner of fact way rather than boastful.  She had a great career and she knew what she wanted (and nearly always got it).  Her life may not be one that many of us would choose in the relationship department, but the thing about Samantha was that she was never anything but completely herself, making up her own rules.  I admired that.

 

“I love you, but I love me more”.  While those are not words you would hear from me, it is important that we love ourselves too.

 

Over the 6 seasons (was it really only 6?) you got to know these women inside and out.  You knew their characters, their strengths, their flaws and their weaknesses.  You got to know them so well that you could anticipate what each of them would do.

 

Carrie, that she would always and forever, belong to Big.  Wherever her path led her, it would always find its way back to him.

Charlotte, that she would do anything for love, even convert to another religion.

Miranda, that she was clever enough (eventually) to realise and tell Steve that she loved him.  That she didn’t have to be alone.  That she could rely on another person.

Samantha, that she would move heaven and earth for a friend, maybe not for a man.

What they have done to Sex and the City with the reboot of And Just Like That is ruin it.  Because they changed the people that they were.  Miranda most of all.  I watched the first season and I did not recognise the woman that I knew and had resonated with.  It was, quite simply, a betrayal.

I understood what the Star Wars fans were talking about with the reboots killing what they have grown up with and loved.  I went into and through my adulthood with those four women and the changes they made to their characters and the choices that they made, was wrong.   For what?  Money.

At least Kim Cattrell had the integrity not to join in, although I also cannot blame her for the apparent phone call they had I believe in the second season.  That must have been some pay off.

So I will keep my heart with the original series and not watch any of the new series.   The women I knew are no longer there.

Lessons Learned

 I’ve been learning a lot recently.  Both about who I am, why I am the way I am and also the root causes of that.  As always when you are on a journey like this, there are ups and downs.  Happy surprises and also, disappointments.

One of the lessons that I am learning is that there is no perfect person, and everyone has had something in their life that can carry on to the next generation, or can be taken out on the next generation; if you let it.

When someone hurts you, or wants to hurt you, there is often a reason behind that, that has nothing to do with you.  They are choosing to take it out on you, you are the target and the focus of their actions; but the root cause lies elsewhere.

Sometimes, certainly on the journey that I am on, understanding the root cause of the other person’s pain, can help to heal your own.

You may not ever forgive them, but you don’t always have to forgive.  You may not ever forget.  But, you can understand where they came from and what formed their behaviour.  And you can choose not to make their mistakes.

This can apply to many people, in all aspects of your life.

The lessons that are the hardest to learn are those when the person hurting you or hurt you in the past is a loved one or someone you know well.  Because a loved one is the person that you turn to.  They should not be the one that has caused you harm.

When this happens, you think to yourself over and over “What did I do wrong?  Why do they treat me this way?”  “Why don’t they love me?”  The answer that you seek however is often not the most obvious one.

I spent years analysing and trying to move on from the pain that was caused to me.  But I was only dealing with the effect of those words and actions against me.  Not the cause.  Because I did not know the cause.  The root of the issue, that had nothing to do with me.

I reached a point where the actions no longer hurt me, but I finally wanted answers.  I wanted to know why.  I was ready to face it.  I had reached, finally, the stage of anger.  Anger is not usually a good emotion, but in my case, it forced me to re-examine everything and the person that I was angry at.

What I realised was that their actions, however hurtful, however horrible, did have a root cause.  An explanation as to why they were the way they were.

I won’t talk further here as I do not want to go into my history.  But learning to understand them, what experiences they had had that made them the way they were, put everything together like a jigsaw puzzle.

I learned to understand that forgiveness is not possible sometimes because forgiveness is not always deserved.  But understanding the why, was the key to healing.  The key to moving on.  

Furthermore, in understanding them and their actions more clearly, this gave me an understanding as to myself.  My own reactions to their actions.  The way I had set up my life as a result.

What I realised is that I do not need to do that anymore.  I understand now.  I can move on, lead my life and be who I really am.  Also, I can build a better relationship with them.  Because now I see some of myself in them, but I am not destined to repeat history.  I have chosen not to.  I am like them. But I am not them.

I can finally be, myself.

The Decrease of Women Wanting Children

 I saw a video recently in which a man proposed that more and more women wanted to have children, but were forced or felt like they had to get an education, get a job/career and prioritise that over having a family.

I talked recently about whether modern man were struggling to live with and have a relationship with the modern, empowered women.  What I said in that post I believe ties in to this question.

Is there is decrease in the amount of women who want children?  If you look at statistics, that answer would indicate yes.   But, statistics do not show context. 

Up until the last few decades, the question of whether you were going to have a husband and a child  was not so much of a choice, but an expectation.  Regardless of whether you worked on or, this was a presumption.

How many women went into marriage or a relationship actually wanting children and how many just did it because that was the norm?

Traditionally, women who chose not to have a husband and a family were ridiculed.  They were called old maids or spinsters.  “Left on the shelf” is certainly a phrase that I heard, even well into the 2000s.  In some places, this way of thinking is still in place.

An unmarried man has always been called a bachelor, a woman earns the title of spinster when she reaches an age where society believes that she should have married and had children, but didn’t.  She is then an old maid.  Left on the shelf.  As if she were an item to be bought in a shop.

The ability to use contraception solved problems for many women who did not want a child and wanted to prevent from doing so/were unable to care for another child etc.  But even when contraception was brought in, there was still the expectation that a woman would want to have a child.  That it was the female default setting.  That simply is not the case for all women.

So the question of has been a decrease in the number of women who want children is both yes, and no.  Because until the past few decades, the women who didn’t want children, who didn’t see themselves as being a mother; ended up being a mother anyway.

Let us not forget also the number of women who are on the fence about having children.  That they would be happy if it happened, happy if it didn’t.  Or those who want children, but want to do so once they have accomplished other things in their life first.  Education, career etc.

It is the women in the above two categories who are also affecting the statistics of the number of women who want children.  More so (I believe) than the women who know from an early age that they do not want to conceive.

As I talked about in my previous post, women have so many more options now than a simple goal or expectation of being a wife and mother.  Many women still want this, but they want (and are entitled to) a standard that was not afforded to women before them.

Some want an established career before they become a mother.  Others may want a child/are on the fence; but are wary.  I do not believe that this is because women are worried that they cannot care for a child, it is more because they are worried about losing themselves in the role.  Worried that their participation in the child’s upbringing and the house chores/cooking etc levels will be far in excess of their partner.

This is not an unreasonable expectation.

I am in the camp of “never wanted to have a child”.   Thankfully because of contraception, I do not have one.

But for those that do or those that are undecided, they are right to have those reservations.  They do not want to fall into roles of being the primary parent and primary person to take of and run the household, whilst also working.  

They do not want to become stay at home mothers, only for them to be the sole person taking care of the child/household when their partner’s only contribution is working and take out the bins once a week with zero evening/weekend participation.

They also do not want to have a child with someone, only for that person to change their mind or decide to leave the relationship, leaving sole care of the child to the woman, some of whom then struggle to get child support from the father.   

They do not want to become single mothers, a person who has always, and still is, looked down on in society.   Single mothers have always been named called.  From whores to scroungers.  Despite, as we know, it taking two people to make a baby.

These worries are real and valid.  Not all men by any means are going to be the kind of man that women need to worry about in situations such as above.  Many will participate fully in the home and upbringing of their children.  The majority will not disappear from their children's lives.

But there are enough men that do not meet these basic expectations, basic levels of what you can expect from a partner to worry women.  

Women who have worked for and have been given the advantages fought for by women generations before them, lives of their own.  Rights of their own.  An identity outside of simply being a wife and mother.

In short, we do not want to go back.

So yes, birth rates and the number of women wanting to/having children are decreasing.  Because until we get to a place in society where an equality of participation is the norm, birth rates will decrease, and divorce rates will increase.

We can do better and we have the tools to be able to do so.  Men and women.  All of us. 

The Modern Relationship

 

I saw a quote the other day:

“The past few decades have taught women to empower themselves, but have not taught men how to live with those empowered women”

This made a lot of sense to me.  

Over the past one hundred years, women’s rights have improved in many ways.  As a result, our way of thinking, what we believe that we can achieve and what we are prepared to put up with, has changed.

We now have our own bank accounts, can own property, can vote, have rights to our own bodies (excluding the US in that one for obvious reasons) and have our own money.   We can have careers in fields we choose, we can have a life outside of the home; we can be stay at home mothers (but only if we wish to be).  We no longer need rely on a man for our existence through life.  We can fund ourselves.  Educate ourselves.  Be a whole person outside of the "wife and mother".

In short, we now have the freedom to choose, for ourselves, what kind of life we want.

This is not a “but what about the men post”.  But it is worth pointing out that whilst women have moved forward, evolved; (some) men have not.

Some of these men still see women as the mother, the person who takes care of the chores.  The person in charge of the home.   They see the 1950s as “the perfect time in history”.

What these men fail to realise that women have always worked.  Whether it be in factories, as nurses, secretaries, teachers, cooks etc.   However.  In addition to these jobs, women were also expected to fully take care of the home and take care of the children.  They were in fact doing two jobs.  The “second shift”.  Their weekends were not time off work, they spent them taking care of the home and the children while their partners, well, didn’t.

This “perfect” time of the 1950s was when the stay at home mother was a prevalent thing.  But was it perfect for women?  Some.  Of course.  But was it a life that many wanted?  No money of their own, no freedoms and a life that was 24/7.  They were always on call.

But was this “perfect time” even accurate?  Because studies show us that around 45% of working age women were in fact working in the UK.   In the US, that figure was around 32%, or 18.4 million women.  Not a small amount.

The men that see this as a perfect time in history do so because they see women as lesser than themselves.  They want a bang maid who they can control through money and power.  I do find it amusing however that many of these men who claim they want a “traditional woman” now also expect them to pay their own way, pay half the bills.  They want it all.

But let us put aside the misogynists.  We know of them.  But they do not make up all men.

Countless studies, as well as what we hear from women day to day, is that the split of work/home/chores/children is in no way balanced.  Despite women also doing a full time job, they are also doing the majority of household cleaning, cooking and childcare.  This includes being the default parent when it comes to the child falling ill and a parent needing to take time off to be with them.

Women now contribute financially to the home.  They have their own money.  They are no longer the default homemakers.  What they want, what they deserve; is an equal or percentage based contribution to the home.    

No home life is ever going to be perfectly 50/50.  Life does not work that way.  But if you both work the same kind of hours, you should be splitting cleaning, cooking, children equally.  Obviously if one parent is working more hours, you adjust accordingly.

But why have things not changed?  Why are women still doing more?

I would say that the first men to realise that there had been a change were millennial men.  But even then, I see husbands who think that changing the odd nappy, mowing the lawn in summer and taking out the rubbish every week is equal.  Is fair.  Yet these men seem to want recognition for doing what is the bare minimum.

Worse, some of them do a household chore with the expectation of getting something in return.  Like they are doing their partners a favour.

It seems to me that there is something innate in men, in their makeup, that sees women as the homemakers and men as the providers.  Regardless of how times have changed.  Because if you follow the trend that millennial men started to realise that they needed to contribute more than simply working, coming home and putting their feet up, then each generation of men should be doing more.  But that isn’t the case.

I used to work with a girl who thought that she had the perfect boyfriend (she is 25 and so they are Gen Z).  His mother had raised him to contribute to the chores in the home so she presumed that he would contribute to their own home equally.  But that was not the case.

After contributing well enough initially, things then started to go downhill.  He started to do less and less, even to the extent that he was leaving his clothes on the floor and his plates left on tables for her to clean up.  She could not understand why, having been raised how he was.

It is a story that I have read 100s of times, from women who are Gen X, right through to Gen Z.  Women are still doing more/the majority of chores, cooking and childcare, despite having full time jobs.  There is nothing less attractive than having to take care of a man like he is a child/one of your children.

Some of these women either face an outright refusal to do more, weaponised incompetence by doing a chore/simply task so badly that you will never ask again or them stating that they are happy to live in filth.

Not all men are like this.  Stay at home dads are a thing and more men are doing their fair share.  So it is possible.

But with so many men not contributing equally, this is turning women away from relationships and can also be a reason for divorce.  A woman does not want to have sex with a man who cannot fill out a form or make an appointment without his partner’s help and who cannot understand how a washing machine works.  She is not attracted to a man who thinks that doing the washing means putting the clothes in the washing machine and calling the job done or who cannot make himself a meal if she is not there to hand hold his every step.

I think that applied weaponised incompetence is worse than the excuse of “I don’t notice what needs to be done” or an outright refusal to contribute.  Because at least you know where you stand.  An outright expectation that you will do more because you are a woman.  You know where you stand.  How you choose to move forward with that is another thing.

When weaponised incompetence is applied, this is pure manipulation.  The dishes that don’t get put away because “I don’t know where they go”.  The laundry that gets ruined because “I didn’t know what setting”.  The children who don’t get fed breakfast because “I don’t know what they eat”.  These men know exactly what they are doing.  Manipulation until you give up and do the job yourself.

Another thing that I see some men say is that “I wasn’t taught how to do x, y and z and you do it better.  You were taught”.

Frankly, this is bullshit.  I was not raised to do much in the way of chores, laundry or cooking.  I taught myself when I moved out.  In an age where Google and Youtube is at your fingertips, anything can be learned.  I myself used Google, Youtube and TikTok (yes, Tiktok!) to teach myself how to cook.

In my own relationship, we work on percentages.  We do the things we like more and if we both don’t like a task, we split it equally.  I do not feel taken advantage of.    When I get home from work, I do not have to clean up from his day and when I come home to a job done that I was expecting to do, it is wonderful.

I heard someone say once that while women want a relationship, men need a relationship.  I believe this to be true.

Because we can look after ourselves financially.  We can entertain ourselves.  Our homes are cleaner when men who (not all…) do not contribute and make a mess, are not there.  If the woman feels like she is having to be the mother of her partner, she no longer has to stay because she has no means of supporting herself.

So back to my original quote about men having not learned to live with empowered women.  This appears to be true.  Because the reality is, the men that do not contribute, no longer get relationships or marriage.  They often find themselves divorced.

But the fact of the matter is that men do not need to learn how to live with empowered women.  What they need to do is move away from thinking that the women’s sole purpose is to be the homemaker.  The mother.  The house manager.  Their second mother.

They can do it, and do when they have to.  When no women is around men are able to feed and clothe themselves and look after children if they become a single father or share joint custody.  Because they have to.

So the answer, simply, maybe is to think of a woman like they do a man.  Their equal, not their lesser and not their home help.

I Can See Clearly Now

I feel that I have been running a very long race.  The race of my life.  Now, I can almost see the finish line ahead and I am both excited, and scared.  It is really the finish line?  Or a mirage?  Are there more unseen obstacles ahead?

My road has been a long one.  Going from my teenager years and thenwhen I was 20, I had the worst period of depression of my life.  A time where I could find no hope, only pain.  A pain that I could not escape from and in truth, for a time there, I wanted to die.  It was the only way I could see out of unimaginable pain.  How this went on for, I no longer truly know.  Months, definately, a year?  Probably.

The only way I have been able to describe the level of emotional pain I felt each day, is equating it to the moment I was told my dad had died.  That immediate, surge of pain, before grief, before taking it in.  I do not exaggerate when I say this, nor would I compare the two lightly.

It was during this time however that I somehow found my inner strength.  A voice inside of me that shouted no.  You are stronger than this.  A voice so strong, so clear that it stopped me in my tracks.  Take that as you will.

I will admit that my whole twenties were a mess.  I had learned to withhold what I felt.  Not show my pain.  Not show the outside world the carnage that was on the inside.  I had no voice.  No opinions.  I was surviving, not thriving as my twenties should have been.  I had learned that no one really wants to see the bad inside, the hurt.  They wanted a smile.  So that is what I gave them.

There was one in particular whom I could have shared my thoughts with.  She would have been there for me, and indeed very much was, for the parts that she did see.  But I was too scared.  I didn’t want to lose her, even though deep down, I knew that I wouldn’t.   I wish that I had.  I could and do still trust her completely.  She is a forever friend.  She knew me before I hit rock bottom.  The real me. 

It has taken me so long to find that person again.

I started writing properly when I hit my thirties and I started to slowly evacuate the ghosts in my head.  

This whole blog was created in order to work on my self confident, my self image and my self worth.  I came so far, achieving things that I never thought that I would be able to accomplish.  From the small steps of changing what I wore from all black to colour, to going to events by myself in London and sharing a picture of myself in a swimsuit.  I talked about confidence until I started to find it for myself, and even received an email once from a woman telling me that my journey had inspired the start of her own.

I have my faults, but what I do have is determination and stubbornness (I appreciate that the latter can be a fault too!).  I am slow to change, but when I do, I make a very large jump.  I have always been this way.  I have always strived to be better.  To heal.  But my roadmap was more like a very complicated squiggle than a straight line.

I found Twitter which helped me find my voice and I found others who were lost and on their way to becoming found.  I felt myself coming alive.

By my mid thirties, I realised that my efforts to hide what I felt from the world had gone too far.  I had become so good at masking that I had convinced myself that my fake smile was real.   

I remember the day so clearly.  I was walking the dog, the sun was out and it was gloriously warm.  I remember suddenly realising that I felt happy; I was enjoying the day and was looking forward to an evening out with friends.  But I could actually feel those feelings.  It was both wonderful, and terrible.  Because it that moment I realised just how long I had not truly felt.  Over a decade.  I always felt the sad emotions, but the good ones had been lost to the mask I wore every day.

It wasn’t until I met my partner a couple of years later that that changed.  I had someone who could see all of me.  Every emotion.  Every feeling.  And they loved all of me.  Every single bit.  I have never felt loved like this in my life.  So seen.  So wanted.

I gained self confidence a while ago now, but the lesson of self worth has been much, much harder.   

It doesn’t matter how much someone tells you that you are worth it.  That you are worthy of love.  That you matter.  You have to believe it yourself.

A couple of weeks ago, things finally started to fall into place and I found my self worth that had been lost to me for so long.  I unburied the last of the things hidden and locked away in my mind.  I confronted face on the reasons why I lost it.

So here I am today.  I am starting counselling in a few weeks.  This I truly believe will help me with the tools I need to move forward.  Move on.  Not forgetting, but not letting my past rule my future.

I have changed my mind whilst writing this post.  I am excited.  I am no longer afraid.  I look forward to the bright future in front of me.  I intend to celebrate every single minute.