all women were bigger and stronger than you
and thought they were smarter
women were the ones who started wars
too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos
and no K-Y Jelly
the state trooper
who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike
was a woman
and carried a gun
the ability to menstruate
was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs
your attractiveness to women depended
on the size of your penis
every time women saw you
they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands
women were always making jokes
about how ugly penises are
and how bad sperm tastes
you had to explain what’s wrong with your car
to big sweaty women with greasy hands
who stared at your crotch
in a garage where you are surrounded
by posters of naked men with hard-ons
men’s magazines featured cover photos
of 14-year-old boys
tucked into the front of their jeans
and articles like:
“How to tell if your wife is unfaithful”
“What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate”
“The truth about impotence”
the doctor who examined your prostate
was a woman
and called you “Honey”
you had to inhale your boss’s stale cigar breath
as she insisted that sleeping with her
was part of the job
you couldn’t get away because
the company dress code required
you wear shoes
designed to keep you from running
And what if
after all that
women still wanted you
to love them.
For the Men Who Still Don’t Get It, written 20 years ago by Carol Diehl.
She wrote a post about the history of this poem that is worth reading.
Is it strange that your advice to start by making your bed brought tears to my eyes? Being suicidal is basically the most difficult thing I’ve had to live with (pun slightly intended) and the simplicity of that first step… it just hit home. Thank you.
It may seem simple, but making your bed is quietly one of the most important daily rituals a person can have. I promise, it will change your life. I know that sounds like hyperbole, but it’s not. Those of you who already do it know exactly what I mean.
First and foremost, making your bed forces you to get out of it. That’s not necessarily a small feat, especially if you’re suffering from depression. Not only are you out of bed, but you can’t get back in. It’s a line of demarcation that officially starts your day.
More than that, though, it’s a ceremonial act of respect for oneself. It’s a deliberate measure of control that you can always take, even when the rest of your life is complete and utter chaos.
Do it. Every damn morning. It only takes a minute, but it will have a cascading effect that subtly improves everything else about the rest of your day, right up to the moment when you get to crawl back in to a well made bed at night.
When I think of all the truly successful people I’ve known in my life, the ones who really have their shit together, all of them — every last one — routinely make their beds every single morning. This is not a coincidence.
I just told my boyfriend it bothers me that he is constantly either on his computer, his iPad (which I bought him) or watching TV. And his answer was that he’s like that because he’s constantly seeking knowledge and that I’m basically asking him to choose between me and knowledge. I know he’s not playing games but even if he is doing it for a “noble cause”, I don’t think I’m asking for a lot. He said that if we get to a middle ground, I’m going to keep asking for more. I feel like I’m in a never ending argument. Am I being unreasonable? For the record we only see each other weekends because we live an hour away from each other so he stays with me Fri-Sun.
I’m constantly amazed at how often I get questions that are some version of a girlfriend asking me, “Am I being unreasonable?” because the outrageous nonsense coming out of her boyfriend’s smug fucking face is so utterly ridiculous that it makes her question her rationality.
Let me assure you, and all the women out there like you, that you have not lost the capacity for reason. Your boyfriend is simply a self-centered douchebag who has so little respect for you that he won’t stop staring at a screen long enough to look you in the eyes and tell you to fuck off.
It’s bad enough that he can claim to be “constantly seeking knowledge” with a straight face, but do you have any idea how condescendingly rude and totally full of shit he has to be to create a false dichotomy between spending quality time with you and feeding his casual internet addiction?
Please do not believe for one solitary second that you are somehow asking him to choose between you and knowledge. All you are asking for is a bare minimum of togetherness, and if he’s not willing to give it to you, then you should kick him the fuck out of your house.
Your boyfriend is a gigantic gaping asshole for talking to you that way, and I honestly don’t know how you put up with it. Fuck his middle ground. Send his ass home for the weekend, call up all those friends you haven’t seen in a while, and go have some fucking drinks.