Welcome to today’s blog, and do catch up with last time’s blog about some random gossip I heard about when your wife leaves you over here. Literally the other day, I was at a kind of family get together with some in-laws, friends, another such relatives and friends in general, and after the hustle and bustle of preparing meals and cleaning up afterwards, I caught a few of them in the kitchen area talking about how they need to be strong, and not allow themselves to be stressed beyond their limits by their husbands, or any man for that matter. This being the almost hundredth time I had walked into such a discussion in a similar setting, I wondered quietly to myself what had happened to the ‘happy wife happy life’ doctrine?
The talk stretched into how little their men cared for them, so ‘as women we need to take care of ourselves’ was generally thrown around more than once because ‘they don’t really see us as people’ and ‘if you allow him he’s going to trample all over you and leave you for dead, then move on seamlessly to your replacement’ and soon I was drawn into their conversation of marital woes.
At the end of it all though, I was left wondering why whenever women are in a group and get free enough, the talk always gravitates towards their troubled unions, like 90% of the time. I am yet to be in a similar setting where one starts a story of how her significant other treated her to a grand birthday surprise (and no, not the catching him intimate with some other female because you were creeping up on him intending to surprise him with that he forgot all about your special day type of surprise). And in an encore to this, instead of the others glaring green daggers at her because ‘why is this bitch so lucky nkt mtaachana tu mscheeew'(you’re gonna split up), they remember times they were treated to similar, or just somehow end up talking about random acts of kindness that have been showered on them. Or maybe I need to change my crowd, do a complete overhaul, huh?
Why in hell does it always have to be a few horrible tales of how she confirmed he has been having some rancid affair with some tea girl or salonist somewhere, punctuated with someone who got the crap battered out of her to another one who has been in cold storage for the last eight months because they share a bed but nothing carries on between the sheets?
Honestly why is it always horror upon hatred upon war upon misery every damn time and very rarely, maybe one in a group of eight will have something positive to throw in? I’m wondering where people still find the strength to get married in the face of such terrible statistics. How does a woman take part in a few such meetings and still have the nerve to say yes when asked if she will take the plunge? How does a man gather the nerves to pursue a woman for months or even years only to end up the subject of these conversations a few months after the wedding bells have rung? How will the coming generation ever start to settle down when we, their parents, seem to be so hopeless when it comes to settling down and living together? What’s the point even when ‘happy wife happy life’ is just a myth, like the dragons from long ago?
It’s so hopeless it makes me want to cry because honestly, what’s wrong with us? What happened to caring for your partner and doing unto them as you would have them do unto you, in the short span between our parents generation and ours? We seem to be completely selfish and juvenile, totally unable to compromise or even see the other person as human as we are.
We cannot love anymore, because it’s not love when you cheat on your wife while she’s pregnant, lie to her that it will not happen again, and cheat again when she falls pregnant again, by you no less, and lie that it won’t happen again, only to start up another affair randomly in the middle of that web of lies that you had already spun.
It isn’t love either when you say you do at the alter, only to start grinding glass and steel wool and mixing it in his food while you oblige to his every need and submissively turn the other cheek every time he hits you, all the while knowing that you’ll get the last laugh anyway when his system crashes and you be laughing all the way to the bank to cash in whatever you had been building together. Here ‘happy wife happy life’ turns to ‘happy wife, happier rich divorcee’ and I don’t think it’s really right…
We have become too immature to be fine with the knowledge that we can live alone, and brave ourselves for the occasional loneliness when we are in between ‘situashionships’. The men don’t want to cook and clean for themselves, and the ladies don’t want to get a livelihood and support themselves, so we force square blocks in triangular spaces and rectangles in circular holes just so we don’t have to be alone for a second longer than necessary. Then we have bloody fights to the death because one won’t stop flirting with anything with a pulse and the other can’t resist the allure of shiny things.
And we still go to the zoo to look at wild animals and be amazed at how thoughtless they are while we are actually worse than them.
Keep it foxxy; like, share, and subscribe.