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So a friend of mine said that since I already tackled men and guys, I should do women. I heartily agreed. Then I realized she meant writing about them...okay, that's fun too.
This turned into something different, but I can't write about women the way I write about men. Different POV. Anyway, here you go Mel, just remember, you asked for it...
First off...I'm not a woman. Not even close. Never dressed in drag more than one drunken Halloween thing. I don't know what hormone cycles are like. Mine have one setting:
ON
I'll never know what giving birth, having a period, having boobs, or multiple orgasms feel like. Then again, I can pee in cursive, and if i drink enough beer, the entire Preamble to the U.S. Constitution. So we all have our unique abilities.
Physically, females are FAR more complex than men, and they're raised with some really odd (to men) ideas on things.
So does this mean that men and women are doomed to never communicate well, get along well? Only in Dr. Phil's fevered dreams.
We really aren't that different.
Physically, all that complexity is due to one-quarter of a chromosome. That's it. Everything comes from there.
So we're not that different, but we aren't that much the same either. It's enough to make your head hurt, and definitely enough to cause a lot of "da FUCK?" moments. You know what a "da FUCK?" moment is. It's one where you're sitting there all calm, and she's losing her shit over something that you can't imagine being pissed at. So you say "what da FUCK?" to yourself a lot.
But that's the problem. Men are socialized, in general, to be different from women. To think of them as strange, mysterious creatures, who we'll never be able to totally relate to. We can have fifty-year relationships with them, but we're taught that there will always be insurmountable distances between us.
Which I think is a damned shame. Because, by and large, the women I've known rule. Now, obviously, I can't speak about every woman. So any generalizations I make are based on the subset of all women that are the women I've known, and known today.
I like strong women. Opinionated women. Women who take shit from no one, and wreck havok on those stupid enough to fuck with them. These are the women in the bar beating the shit out of the loser who called them a cunt. These women get shit done. They don't need a man. They may want one, they may love one, but they sure as shit don't need one. They like men, they love sex, but they also have standards. They aren't about to get naked with some dork with a good line. They understand that bad boys are just that: Bad, as in Bad News. They may have friends dating bad boys, but that's it. And when the relationship blows up, they're the ones the friend turns to, and they avoid saying "I told you so", because while they're willing to be harsh when needed, they aren't mean.
I do agree with one bit of popular wisdom. The one that says a man's mom really shapes their opinion of women. My mom was nothing if strong. In 1970 or so, my dad got fired from his job in Chicago, and we had to move to Florida, thanks to my continual ear infections in the Chicago winters.
My mom hated Florida.
Hated every square inch. Which is ironic, because while I haven't lived in Florida since 1995, and was out of the state between 1986 and 1993, it's home in a way that no other place will be. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the place i'm in now. Kansas City, Mo is in a lot of ways, the nicest place i've ever lived. But in the cold night, there's a part of me that misses Florida, that only feels completely at ease there.
My mom felt the same way about Chicago. To her, Miami was always this pissant redneck tourist town, too chintzy to afford a proper transit system. But, it was where I needed to be, so she gave up everything she loved, and never went back for anything but short visits.
That's a strong woman.
In 1978, my dad was mangled by a car, and was never really able to work again. So my mom took over all of that. It wasn't easy, and I think in the rare moments she was alone, she wondered how it would ever not be hell. But she went to work, and kept her family together, until I joined the USAF in 1986, and my dad died in 1991.
That's a strong woman.
She gave me a near-pathological desire to read, well, everything. She taught me to think for myself, to do laundry, and cook. She told me my first dirty joke, and got me a subscription to Playboy, then made me wait every month until she was done with it.
That's a strong woman.
And one time, in a little "Cheers"-like place, where we'd go, and my folks would argue politics all night, and I'd do my homework, have my dinner, and learn that indeed, both conversation and Scrabble are full contact sports, I watched what happened when you pushed her too far. Some twenty-something made what she considered a rude comment, and she told him so. He called her a very rude name. She backhanded him so hard that he lifted off the floor, and landed ass-end up in the booth next to the one I was sitting at. I was twelve. I kneeled on the seat of my booth, leaned over, and as I beheld this stupid fucker laying there, all confused, with a broken nose, I said, "Don't mess with my mom..she'll kick your ass."
That's a strong woman.
She loved to laugh too. Especially when she was with her sister. My dad and I loved it when they got together, because they would laugh so hard, they'd occasionally piss themselves...then they'd laugh at that too. Yes, I know to most, that's not anything to laugh about. But you gotta understand some things. My mom's dad ran out when my mom was born. My grandmother had a nervous breakdown, so my mom, my aunt, and my uncle were raised in a catholic orphanage. In the thirties. She had the scars on her knuckles to prove it. She never told me about this. I only found out from my aunt after her death. To my mom, it was the past, and it didn't matter anymore. From my older cousin, I found out that my mom worked in Japan in the late 40s-early 50s for the Air Force. I had known that. What I didn't know was that she had evidently spent a lot of time near Hiroshima, and came home with her hair falling out, desperately ill and sickly. Radiation sickness was not something you looked for then. She came home, got better, and went on about her life. She traveled constantly. I have pictures of her, as a single woman in the 50s and 60s in damn near every place in this country worth going.
In the mid to late 60s, she met my dad. In Nov. 1966 they were married. In March of 1967 I was born. Do the math. My dad's family was a proper Illinois Irish family. They never treated my mom worth a crap, but until I found my folk's marriage certificate, I never knew why. Bastards. Fuck 'em. My mom was worth thirty of their gossiping petty asses. In between Japan and me, she ran her own business, worked on the SRA standardized tests, and generally had a very cool life. Then I came along, and she put all that down.
For me.
That's a strong woman.
Which is why I love strong women. I was raised by one. They're normal. When I see women who let their husbands or anyone really, beat on them, or abuse them in any way, I wonder: "WTF? Kick his lame ass, dump the body in a river, and move on." Because that was what I was raised with. My mom and dad would fight all the time, but my dad was never stupid enough to raise a hand to her. She would have mangled his ass. She demanded respect. It was her right, and woe to any who didn't give her that due.
Now, I'll admit, that being a strong woman in our society sucks ass. As a people, this country is not terribly kind to strong women. They're bitches, ball-breakers, cunts, dykes, etc. Hell, at one point, the Navy used the same criteria to define both outstanding officers and potential closet lesbians! Talk about not even getting a reacharound!
Bimbos and little weak things seem to have it easy. They may indeed have it easy for real. But at what price? Is it worth it subsuming yourself for someone else's satisfaction? Is it worth it to dismiss your dreams for someone else's? Note, there's a difference between choosing to help someone you love follow their dreams because you want to help them. I'm talking about forgetting you even had dreams. It happens to women a lot. Because, to a certain extent, our society still views women as an adjunct to men.
It's really evident in our attitudes towards sex. Women who like porn are seen as being perverted. Not in the kind of fun, "Well, look who's a dirty girl" kind of way that is similar to how you tease guys about liking porn. I mean perverted in the creepy Michael Jackson kind of way. If a woman really likes sex, she's still seen as a ho of some kind. That's just so wrong.
Christ, from my POV, and most of my male friends, we LOVE women who like sex. I mean women who, pardon my french, know how to fuck, and like to...a lot. We love a woman who is going to expect that you show some friggin' passion, because she's going to. Who tells you what she wants and how. Who expects that you, as a man, have some knowledge of female anatomy, because by god, she knows all of our buttons. These are women who, if you're exploring each others likes and dislikes, and you hit one of the latter, is not going to make you miserable for a month, but simply move your hand, penis, whatever, to a better location. Who when she is having an orgasm is comfortable enough to let go and have one. Not some bullshit screaming, but not trying to minimize it either. When you can see the waves going through her body, that's a good woman. Oh, and they don't fake orgasms either. Why bother? Sometimes, it just ain't happening. So they make sure that the man gets off, and then they enjoy that, because they like the feeling of power. They like having that "Yeah...that's mine and don't you forget it." Here's a hint...strong women have vibrators, and the like men who are secure enough in themselves to enjoy adding toys to the mix.
One thing though...if you're going to have sex with a strong woman, don't be expecting her to do all the work. She wants a man who's a wolf, not a whining wuss. You have to be able to get things done, without asking "is this good" all the time. Do that too much with a strong woman, she's kicking your ass out of bed and taking care of herself. They expect their men to have their heads in the right places. You can't be asking her "how'midoin'?" after every stroke. Shut up and screw. Well, don't shut up. Make some damned noise. Man noise. React. You know how we hate it when you're going down on a woman, and she.won't.react? Well, if she's giving you her best hummer, you better twitch and make some damned noise to show her that yes indeed, your eyes are free-rotating and you'll do anything if it means her blowing you a little longer.
You know what else rules about strong women? You can compliment them easy. You can tell them, "Damn, but your ass looks fine tonight" and they get what you mean. They don't get offended, because they know you respect them as people. They wouldn't be talking to you if you didn't. You can tell them dirty jokes. They probably have a raunchier sense of humor than you do.
Yeah, strong women expect a lot. But if you can live up to it, you get a lot in return. You get someone who won't mind if you go out without her. She's sure as hell going to go out with her friends and leave you to your own devices on a regular basis, so you can do the same. Why? Because she understands that you need other people in your life. It's not that she doesn't care about you, or vice - versa. But you can't only have one person in your life. You'll go nuts. So every so often, a carload of crazy women takes her off for a night of fun that doesn't involve you. Enjoy it. Just don't give her a hard time about it. Because she'll never forget that, and you'll be on your way out soon after. Independence is critical to a strong woman.
That's also not to say they never need you to be a little stronger for them. We all have weak moments. Life can just pile up on you, and you need someone to be a rock for a little while. When that happens, they expect you to be there for them. Because they're always there for you. Besides, if a woman like that turns to you when she needs a rock for a while, that's probably the single biggest honor you'll ever get. That's trust man, that's a woman who can do it all saying, "Just shut up and let me hang on to you for a few hours, my feet need to find the ground again." That's her saying she trusts you enough to let you share your strength with hers. That's major, and if it happens, you damn well better feel honored. You also better be there. Besides, when you talk about a strong woman, it doesn't happen often. It doesn't happen because Lancomb discontinued their favorite lip gloss. It happens because the pressure they put themselves under is a little much, or they just got out of the hospital, and need someone for a bit. She doesn't need you to solver her problems, she already knows how to do that. Just...be there, and listen.
Look, it's easy to find bimbos. It's not hard to find someone who will live their life for you. But then, they expect the same in return. Is your fear of a strong woman worth that?
I say no, it isn't. I've only dated strong women. I'm still friends with all of them. Even the ones I never saw naked. They're some of my best friends and closest family. They hug me when I need it, and kick me in the ass when I need that. They send me odd things for my birthday, or christmas, or father's day. The following gifts have all come from strong women: A Darwin Fish. "How the West Was Won" by Led Zeppelin. The Led Zeppelin DVD set. A pair of spiccoli Vans. A shirt with a big "How about a nice cup of shut the fuck up" on the back. "Spend the night", by The Donnas. Krispy Kremes hand carried from Memphis to Boston. A really comfy sweater.
None of these are particularly expensive. They're not hard to find. But they are all examples of how these wonderful women took the time to get me a present that was from the heart, and showed me that they really do know *me*. Not some phantom they want me to change into. But me, with all my faults and foibles. Because strong women want the reality, not the fantasy. Strong women don't try to change you, they don't try to make you over. They want you for who you are, inside and out. They won't leave you because you don't have a six-pack. They won't dump you for someone with more money, or a better job. When they say "I love you", it's not a trap. It's a gift. You don't get that from weak women.
I don't know what I've ever done to deserve their friendship, their caring, or in some cases, love. But whatever it is, I'm grateful beyond words for it. So, stupid people of the world, you can keep your victims, your bims, your weak-willed women. I'll stick with strong women. They rule, and I love them all.
Posted by John C. Welch at 23:06 | Permalink
Comments
By jove, I think you've got it!
Your Mom kicked ass. I hope that I am even a small percentage as strong as she was. I would have loved to have known her - I personally think that laughing until you pee your pants is definitely grounds for laughing harder.
And I was really enjoyed your analysis of what it is to be like I am. Especially the part about how vital it is that men who love women like me have to be able to just be stable for a little while sometimes - strong women go out and shake up the world, and sometimes it shakes us back. And if the havoc I'm trying to wreck blowe up in my face, and goes to hell in a handbasket, don't buy me flowers, I don't want fucking jewelry, or a new pair of shoes. Shopping doesn't do a damned thing for me emotionally. I want my man to just hold still, and let me hang on for a while. He doesn't need to coddle me, or solve anything. Just let me cry - or not cry. He needs to be able to let me talk, rant, say crazy shit I'll deny later. Or he may just need to respect that I really cannot begin to speak, because what I'm wrestling is really awful. If I ask a question, just answer it. Honestly.
We have to have our rocks, our refuges - but we decide when we gotta have them, and we sure as hell decide when we're done. That's not to say we don't show our gratitude. In my experience, my gratitude for being able to have that kind of sanctuary is the most enduring. And I appreciate my husband very much for being able to just bask in that gratitude, knowing without a doubt that he ROCKS.
To me, from that kind of give and take, gratitude - and acceptance - rises the most fundamental, unshakable trust you can have in another human being. And let me tell you, that is what really matters.
Posted by: Karen | December 17, 2003 4:14 AM
Yeah! Too cool to start a rainy cold day with a love letter like that!
Karen said all the wise insightful things I would have if it was later in the day, but I must take issue with one idea: NEVER say no thanks to jewelry.
Posted by: Gypsye Dammette | December 17, 2003 6:43 AM
Actually, you both are pretty much exemplars of what I'm talking about. Which is why we get along so well.
john
Posted by: John C. Welch | December 17, 2003 9:27 AM
Oh yes, in case I forgot to say it:
Thank you. I'm so glad you wrote this. I didn't even have to bully you too hard to get you to do it either, which makes you a perfect example of the kind of strong man that we strong women like to have around.
I wish there were more like you.
Posted by: Melissa | December 18, 2003 1:02 AM
well shucks.
It was a good idea, I'd been meaning to do it for a while anyway. But these kinds of things take time to percolate, because they tend to kind of write themselves. It makes the physical process of typing easier, but also makes the process of getting started much harder.
And l'm lazy too.
john
Posted by: John C. Welch | December 18, 2003 9:46 AM
You have, I think, described both my Mother and my first girfreind and lover. I hope to continue to date, and eventually marry a strong woman. I think my favorite thing about thier strength is the challenge it represents. To keep up with them I have to always be making myself a better man.
Posted by: Ben Soler | December 19, 2003 12:10 AM
John - you are a wise man my friend
Strong women make us strong
That's why some of us would rather die than see them being hurt
Call me crazy
Who gives a shit
Right on brother
Posted by: David Patterson | December 20, 2003 4:44 PM
But of course we all need to remember it's someone's son we're killing when we do this
Someone's lover
Someone's partner
And we should think long and hard before doing anything rash
Posted by: David Patterson | December 20, 2003 5:02 PM
I think I speak for many here on your last comment when I say...
WFT?
john
Posted by: John C. Welch | December 20, 2003 8:35 PM
You floor me.
The end.
Wow.
Posted by: Kennedy | December 29, 2003 9:48 PM
Wow. Our moms have something in common. I know it is her influence that has enabled me to become a strong woman. Moms are the foundation of our personalities (most of the time).
Posted by: K | February 2, 2004 11:15 PM
Wow. That was GREAT, John... I just want you to know that you helped me to be a strong woman the day you told me to punch Brownie in the nose. I know you remember... I think that was the start of me standing up for myself and saying 'Fuck all this Dumb Shit.'
Thanks.
P.s. Yeah, mom (Karen) you ARE a strong woman like his mom... I see a lot of you in what he wrote...
Posted by: Nicole | February 7, 2004 11:53 PM
[Wow. That was GREAT, John... I just want you to know that you helped me to be a strong woman the day you told me to punch Brownie in the nose. I know you remember... I think that was the start of me standing up for myself and saying 'Fuck all this Dumb Shit.']
LOL...well he was just such a retard, and you had like 2" of height and a good bit of reach on him, I just couldn't understand why all the kids at the bus stop put up with his lame shit.
I SO wish i would have had a nice DV Cam of that...it was just...beautiful...."Brownie, stop it...WHAM!...thud...waaaaaah"
john
Posted by: John C. Welch | February 10, 2004 10:14 AM
You're truly "The Best" forever...
iris
Posted by: Iris Sneath | April 14, 2004 10:32 PM
Aww...see, now you're making me blush.
But I thank you for the kind words and kinder thoughts ;-)
and you still rule
Posted by: John C. Welch | April 17, 2004 1:06 AM
Powerful words, John. And from one who lost her strength for a while, thanks for pushing me in the right direction, and mostly for listening back when that's what I needed the most.
You still drive me crazy at times :-) but you don't bullshit...I appreciate that.
Posted by: Sly | April 20, 2004 11:43 PM
de nada, it's what friends do, eh?
john
Posted by: John C. Welch | April 23, 2004 9:53 AM
A meandering trail of links led me to pass through your site today. Although unrelated to my info search, I chose to read this. And now I must simply say 'thanks, bynkii'. I was in need of some reassurance that there are actually men who, to use the hackneyed expression, 'have a clue'.
Posted by: Lesh | September 6, 2004 9:11 AM
Thanks!
The response to this one article has just fascinated me. Because I can't be all that damned smart, and the only one to realize some of this.
Posted by: John C. Welch | September 6, 2004 9:48 AM
Hi, late arrival, and, as Lesh above, came through links and without intending to read anything about this. No idea how I got here, in fact, in the middle of work. But I also chose to read it. I'm an 18 year-old from Buenos Aires, Argentina, and you have absolutely no idea how good this post is.
Thanks a lot. I was definitely needing to read something like this about women, right these days.
Congratulations.
Posted by: Guido D. | August 1, 2005 1:04 AM
