Give the man some leg room
My teenage daughter filled me in on an incident she dealt with on public transport this week. A man in his mid 20's waits for her to remove her bag from the seat beside her so he can sit there. He stands and waits patiently. Plenty of free seats all around him, but he waits for the one beside her.
He sits down and spreads his legs WIDE OPEN. Way over her half of the seat. Like most men do. A good 75cm between his knees. So my daughter placed her bag between her legs and adjusted herself, spreading her legs wide open as well. At this point she says their thighs were pushed up hard against each other. Neither gave in. She says he was distracted at first, and then gradually became agitated. After a few minutes, he adjusted his position. Moving his bag around, he managed to straighten both of his legs out in a wide V...and then he extended his left leg... over the top of her right leg...so his left calf was resting on her right shin and his left foot was resting between her legs.
She told him to move his fucking leg or she'd move it for him.
The male leg spread sums up how many men perceive themselves. Both armrests on the aeroplane - ever noticed that? They're also pretty ok with showing the world the shape of their balls squeezed over to one side of the seam of their pants. The way the occupy their space is interesting. Having drinks with their friends, leaning back with their legs spread open and their arms behind their heads. Scratching their balls and adjusting themselves in public - see it every day. How many times have you seen a woman scratch her genitals in public? And yes, we get itchy too. How many men have stood in front of me pissing into the toilet while I clean my teeth!? Their stinking piss cascading directly into the water, farting as they empty themselves. My point is that men feel they have a right to a lot of personal space, and at a ripe age of 20-something this particular male in question on the public transport felt he had a right to assault my daughter because she invaded his.
How men occupy their space and how they treat women who they perceive to have invaded theirs - always and interesting topic. I like to compare those "wtf?" moments with taking a teensy taste of dog shit. Sometimes it's easier to swallow it rather than spit it out. Lick, wince, swallow, move on. Objecting doesn't win me any browny points. Like those moments when a male colleague puts his arm around my shoulder to move me out of his way, or when I'm asked why I'm so angry because I disagree with a group of men in a meeting, or when I'm mocked for being able to "keep the men in line" during a professional introduction, or when I'm asked why I'm not home with my kids when I'm working late (yes I know the list is exhaustive). That's the shit I can lick off my lips. I gag, but I can kind of swallow it.
In a relationship the shit is a little more difficult to swallow. Perhaps it's just the disappointment that he's just like all the rest.
I recently got the lecture from a man at the end of a relationship: 'Not all men are bad you know.' As if his belief that I hate all men is the reason I found exception with his behaviour and comments. The statement deflects attention from the facts. "She's a regular man-hater. Nothing I said or did would ever have changed her opinion of me. It's not me, it's her and her...mental issues." From his point of view...responsibility absolved. Yuuuuuk!
The things they say and do!
Once you've liberated yourself, you can't not see the truck load of stinking shit that is served up to women by men constantly. "What can I get for you?" "I think I'll just have my regular shit sandwich today thanks." Channelling the anger is the difficult part. I haven't mastered that yet. Those non-complaining, all-accepting women are completely fucked in the head. The women who explain to me that maybe it's me who has the problem. The men they know, or live with, or are married to just aren't like that. "He's really good with the kids." "Oh he cooks you know." "I've got him doing his own ironing now." "He's really good about letting me see my friends." You find these women congregating in places like Facebook and playgroups for young kids. When we no longer have to clarify if our partner is good with his own kids, or can use a fry pan, then that will be a happy day. It's no day soon.
Dating men has been an education. Lessons in how a woman should behave begins the moment you meet some of them. I've been spoken to about giving my mobile phone number out too quickly and being too forward with my first request to meet for a drink. Not behaving as I should - coy.
Further down the line I've been subjected to a diet of ex-girlfriends and ex-wives more times than I care to recall, with men daring me to take them on about it. Those same men would never put up with that from a woman. Kind of like men don't like women opening their legs on public transport. I've met men who decide what we do and when we will see each other, claiming they're the busy ones. Most things on their terms. Speak up about it, they'll tell you you're insane. Complain about it, and they withdraw. Their hobbies (you should try yoga / guitar / jogging / vegetarianism), their agenda, their time schedule. I've been ridiculed by men for being too sexual, too outspoken, too angry, too masculine. Not giggly enough, not smiley enough, not soft enough, not submissive enough I imagine. I've been chastised by women for being too particular about who I date. Told to lower my standards. I've had one man's obese co-dependent ex-girlfriend that he still lived with tell me, a single woman of 45, that I'm too promiscuous (he'd passed that information on to her for me). I suspect she's one of those women who believes that the more a woman withholds, the greater her virtue. Men have taught her that, and she's obviously swallowed it. I'd hazard a guess she thinks she's a bit dirty 'down there'. Weird shit I'd rather not analyse.
But hey, enough about all that. I'm really very proud of my daughter. Independent, strong and sadly, rather unique for her woman of her age. She spat out a serving of dog shit in public. Plenty left for her to swallow though. The men who can't avert their eyes from her chest as she passes them in the street, the males in her class who out talk the females 10:1 but for all their talk actually know no more than any female, her male teacher sitting on the desk at the front of the class with his balls on complete display through his jeans, hushing a class full of women so he can lecture them on 'feminism'.
As for me...I know there's a lot of shit left to lick in life, but I'm still hopeful that I won't be eating that relationship shit sandwich forever. Maybe one day I'll meet a man who doesn't need quite so much fucking leg room.
He sits down and spreads his legs WIDE OPEN. Way over her half of the seat. Like most men do. A good 75cm between his knees. So my daughter placed her bag between her legs and adjusted herself, spreading her legs wide open as well. At this point she says their thighs were pushed up hard against each other. Neither gave in. She says he was distracted at first, and then gradually became agitated. After a few minutes, he adjusted his position. Moving his bag around, he managed to straighten both of his legs out in a wide V...and then he extended his left leg... over the top of her right leg...so his left calf was resting on her right shin and his left foot was resting between her legs.
She told him to move his fucking leg or she'd move it for him.
The male leg spread sums up how many men perceive themselves. Both armrests on the aeroplane - ever noticed that? They're also pretty ok with showing the world the shape of their balls squeezed over to one side of the seam of their pants. The way the occupy their space is interesting. Having drinks with their friends, leaning back with their legs spread open and their arms behind their heads. Scratching their balls and adjusting themselves in public - see it every day. How many times have you seen a woman scratch her genitals in public? And yes, we get itchy too. How many men have stood in front of me pissing into the toilet while I clean my teeth!? Their stinking piss cascading directly into the water, farting as they empty themselves. My point is that men feel they have a right to a lot of personal space, and at a ripe age of 20-something this particular male in question on the public transport felt he had a right to assault my daughter because she invaded his.
How men occupy their space and how they treat women who they perceive to have invaded theirs - always and interesting topic. I like to compare those "wtf?" moments with taking a teensy taste of dog shit. Sometimes it's easier to swallow it rather than spit it out. Lick, wince, swallow, move on. Objecting doesn't win me any browny points. Like those moments when a male colleague puts his arm around my shoulder to move me out of his way, or when I'm asked why I'm so angry because I disagree with a group of men in a meeting, or when I'm mocked for being able to "keep the men in line" during a professional introduction, or when I'm asked why I'm not home with my kids when I'm working late (yes I know the list is exhaustive). That's the shit I can lick off my lips. I gag, but I can kind of swallow it.
In a relationship the shit is a little more difficult to swallow. Perhaps it's just the disappointment that he's just like all the rest.
I recently got the lecture from a man at the end of a relationship: 'Not all men are bad you know.' As if his belief that I hate all men is the reason I found exception with his behaviour and comments. The statement deflects attention from the facts. "She's a regular man-hater. Nothing I said or did would ever have changed her opinion of me. It's not me, it's her and her...mental issues." From his point of view...responsibility absolved. Yuuuuuk!
The things they say and do!
Once you've liberated yourself, you can't not see the truck load of stinking shit that is served up to women by men constantly. "What can I get for you?" "I think I'll just have my regular shit sandwich today thanks." Channelling the anger is the difficult part. I haven't mastered that yet. Those non-complaining, all-accepting women are completely fucked in the head. The women who explain to me that maybe it's me who has the problem. The men they know, or live with, or are married to just aren't like that. "He's really good with the kids." "Oh he cooks you know." "I've got him doing his own ironing now." "He's really good about letting me see my friends." You find these women congregating in places like Facebook and playgroups for young kids. When we no longer have to clarify if our partner is good with his own kids, or can use a fry pan, then that will be a happy day. It's no day soon.
Dating men has been an education. Lessons in how a woman should behave begins the moment you meet some of them. I've been spoken to about giving my mobile phone number out too quickly and being too forward with my first request to meet for a drink. Not behaving as I should - coy.
Further down the line I've been subjected to a diet of ex-girlfriends and ex-wives more times than I care to recall, with men daring me to take them on about it. Those same men would never put up with that from a woman. Kind of like men don't like women opening their legs on public transport. I've met men who decide what we do and when we will see each other, claiming they're the busy ones. Most things on their terms. Speak up about it, they'll tell you you're insane. Complain about it, and they withdraw. Their hobbies (you should try yoga / guitar / jogging / vegetarianism), their agenda, their time schedule. I've been ridiculed by men for being too sexual, too outspoken, too angry, too masculine. Not giggly enough, not smiley enough, not soft enough, not submissive enough I imagine. I've been chastised by women for being too particular about who I date. Told to lower my standards. I've had one man's obese co-dependent ex-girlfriend that he still lived with tell me, a single woman of 45, that I'm too promiscuous (he'd passed that information on to her for me). I suspect she's one of those women who believes that the more a woman withholds, the greater her virtue. Men have taught her that, and she's obviously swallowed it. I'd hazard a guess she thinks she's a bit dirty 'down there'. Weird shit I'd rather not analyse.
But hey, enough about all that. I'm really very proud of my daughter. Independent, strong and sadly, rather unique for her woman of her age. She spat out a serving of dog shit in public. Plenty left for her to swallow though. The men who can't avert their eyes from her chest as she passes them in the street, the males in her class who out talk the females 10:1 but for all their talk actually know no more than any female, her male teacher sitting on the desk at the front of the class with his balls on complete display through his jeans, hushing a class full of women so he can lecture them on 'feminism'.
As for me...I know there's a lot of shit left to lick in life, but I'm still hopeful that I won't be eating that relationship shit sandwich forever. Maybe one day I'll meet a man who doesn't need quite so much fucking leg room.
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