Why men cheat…

Do men need to cheat on their partners to be happy?

A recent article (click to read) in the Huffington Post reveals a book authored by Eric Anderson that explores this very question. His assertion is that monogamy is a socially driven construct, and one that is devastating to men, who are not designed to be monogamous. He compares monogamy to “sexual incarceration” and argues that although men desire emotional monogamy, they should be free to practice physical recreational sex with random partners as well.

When I first heard this argument being discussed on the radio, I was overwhelmed with a bevy of responses that were fighting for the most prominent position of indignation inside of my head. I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not because I’m a faithful advocate of monogamy, but just because I was struck by the lengths that some man would go to in order to justify what can very plainly and simply be summed up with one clear explanation: poor impulse control.

Why do men cheat? Because they don’t control themselves. And why don’t they control themselves? Because they can get away with it. It’s not rocket science, and it doesn’t take a Ph D level analysis to uncover this plain and simple truth. The notion that somehow males are wired to constantly go after meaningless and emotionally detached sexual encounters with different women is a LAME excuse to cover up and justify irresponsible, weak, and childish behavior by boys who shouldn’t have the nerve to call themselves men. The discussion should be of “why boys cheat.”

It is precisely the exercise of self-control that separates boys from men in the first place. Children think about their needs first. They are driven by their impulses without regard to the impact they have around them. Boys who cheat on their partners, who “desire emotional monogamy” as Anderson says, but who proceed to indulge in their physical cravings, are no different.

Anderson also asserts that these men who cheat really do “love their partners.” They lie to them because they love them and don’t want to lose them. This faulty backwards logic is stunning! If you don’t want to lose the person then DON”T CHEAT ON THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE! What on earth? No, no, no Mr. Anderson, if you love somebody, you think about their needs, you may even put them ahead of yours. If you love someone, you wouldn’t risk hurting them for what you have described as a “meaningless” sexual encounter. Wack off you jack off! That’s love!

Having said all of that, I’m not entirely convinced that monogamy should be the norm, but certainly two people entering a serious partnership should be on the same page about what their desires are. If the person you want to be with is not on your page 1) find someone else who is, 2) convince them, or 3) DEAL WITH IT! You have options. Lying and cheating is the weak, selfish way to get what you want.

Additionally, the discussion thus far has been centered around men (of course). Is the assumption that women are not also ‘wired this way?’ That it’s ‘boys will be boys?’ A lot of attention is given to the fact that men are able to have random recreational sex without emotional attachment. IF this is in fact the case, is the assumption that women are not? Do women, unlike men, develop emotional attachment as a result of sex? AND if that is the case, then aren’t the women these guys are cheating with during their recreational sex going to then develop an emotional attachment? How is that fair to any of the women involved? Oh, I forgot. It’s all about the boys. We needn’t discuss silly notions of propriety and fairness to others.

OR is it the case that women are not wired for monogamy either? If so, then why is the conversation focused around ‘men’ specifically and not just ‘monogamy.’ Would ‘men’ let their women have sex with random guys if their women let them have open sex as well? Hmmmm. Something tells me this would be an issue.

Women collectively MUST start setting boundaries of acceptable behavior. We have to realize and reflect our own value. There are way too many women that allow cheating and infidelity as an outgrowth of a larger disrespect that they put up with. This has a ripple effect that is disastrous for all women. As long as some women accept this, boys will do it. And continue to write books to justify it.

What are your thoughts?
Do men need to cheat to be happy? Or are they exercising poor impulse control?
What are the needs of women? How can they be addressed in this whole dynamic?
Should open relationships be considered more often? How do you think men would react to their partner being sexually open as they are?
POST any comments below:

Hope is the New Crack…


I can’t give it up. Hope seems to be sucking the life out of me, yet I’m addicted to hope like a junkie. No matter how hard I try to crush it, quell it, it rides up, full and insatiable. Taking me, lulling me with false promises again and again. Each time, the SAME DAMN THING! Varying degrees of disappointment withdrawal. Yet each time I meet somebody new there goes that same hope again. Pathetically resilient. Embarrassing and stubborn. Reaching through my eyes and seizing hold as if it never learned its lesson.

Even after my proclamations of happiness (which I truly am). I am praising God each day for the peace and the joy that I feel. Yet, true to junkie tendency, when I meet a guy that I like, hope shoots through me impulsively. I can’t help but take a hit off that hazy blue romanticism, the misty promises that fog the moment and shape my pleasure into whatever I want. But man, when those clouds clear…. When the endorphins die, and I am left with something more raw and exposed, and I vow never to do the shit again. Only I can’t help myself…

And here it is that I met someone. Anyone. At some random spot. Anywhere. Like so many other times in my life. I try to pay it no mind. Ignore it. An alcoholic drinking water at the bar. But there it is right in front of me once more. Hope. What is it doing here? I don’t even need it. Don’t even want it. Yet it persists. It’s existence manifesting more poignantly through it’s tainted underside. I barely even knew I was hopeful until he didn’t call. Till my phone gleamed with a beautiful emptiness. Then I knew I had been sucked in, once again.

Does this habitual hope have women sucked up in a perpetual pipe dream? Is it impossible to let go of the youthful obsession with boys, dream weddings, and love at first sight? Is it hope that prevents women like me from settling for something more ‘reality based?’ Is it hope that starts the downward spiral of disappointment? But no matter what pain I go through, I keep coming back for more. The hope in me fiercely untamed, controlling me, without my knowledge or permission. I’m hooked. Addicted. And neither bitterness nor elation can seem to rehabilitate me.

Man repellent?

Are cats some sort of harbinger of male detachment? Or are they more of an after effect? A comforting replacement for something that’s missing? I have a cat that came into my life as a relationship was ending. It was a forced favor from a friend, but I have grown to love the little naughty furball. But I have noticed that since his presence in my life, I have not had one sustainable relationship. Not that droughts are completely new. There was the damning gray hole of 2000-2003. And a few lapses before that. But a good friend of mine gave her cat away with a warning that cats are “men repellent” which left me wondering.

At first, I “pppsssshhhh’d the statement. That’s ridiculous, I thought. Yet, each and every man that came to my house was allergic to cats. None of my girlfriends shared the allergy. It was the next date I had that asked with skepticism:
“You have a cat?”
I hesitated.
“You know what they say about women with cats, right? They’re crazy.”

Me? Crazy? Noooooo…. I assured him, while quietly contemplating if there was something to what my friend had said after all. Maybe women who buy or adopt cats have some pre- existing needs that the cat is supposed to fill. Perhaps cats offer some allure to a particular brand of crazy woman. I felt reassured that my pet cat had not been my decision, so clearly I couldn’t be ‘that crazy cat lady.’ But does having a cat make you become one? Or was the cat drawn to me through some sort of fateful twist of events? Was I his rightful ‘crazy lady’ owner? Am I stepping into a preordained destiny of old cat lady loneliness? Just what is it about cats that drive men away?

The Ole Master/ Servant Dynamic Rears It’s Head…

Why do men in powerful positions have so much difficulty keeping it in their pants? Or dealing discreetly with their desires? As a matter of fact, it seems like there’s an inverse relationship between wielding control over others and exercising control over ones self. No clearer is this seen than in the latest incidents involving powerfully positioned politicians. The first to rear it’s ugly head (literally speaking) was the situation involving the man A Schwarz. Ahhhnold. The man from Austria who came to America, began a career in bodybuilding, acting, and ended up living the American dream. But the American dream is rooted in a nightmare. An inconvenient little gaping fact from which we toss and turn and hide under the goose down comfort of the Obama election. But despite the fact that we are all now “safe and secure” from the legacy of slavery, why is it that the dynamics born through this era continue to follow us throughout time?

What did Ahnold do? Despite his wife and children, he had inappropriate sexual relations with his maid. Sexual relations that led to the procreation of offspring. “Men” taking advantage of their position to satisfy their urges with women who are their servants is nothing new. In fact it reeks of the same power dynamic played out many years ago through the institution of slavery. Good ole American slavery. That little itty bitty institution. It was harmless really. Hardly even an institution. More like a community college. But back in those days, land masters would CONSTANTLY have inappropriate sexual relations with their servants (I guess, if you want to call rape inappropriate…) Why did they do this? For many reasons. To assert their ‘dominance,’ because it was fiscally rewarding (the resulting offspring would be considered ‘black’ and thus legal property which they could sell to make money) and because… well because they could.

Here’s a tidbit of info to chew on: In the antebellum South, virtually every plantation produced mixed-race children. The 1860 census classified 588,532 persons as mulattoes, largely the offspring of illicit master/slave relations. According to historian Edward E. Baptist (Cornell University) throughout the U.S. slave trade certain slaves were termed “fancy maids” to refer to women considered sex workers first and housekeepers second.

This is not to say the A-shcwarz fits neatly into this dynamic. Clearly there are differences, however the inclination to release the pits and dredges of ones sexual desire onto someone who has less power, is just horrid. It’s not like he was taking her out, wining and dining her and they made a mistake, no. She was the servant, and he continually did what he wanted with her, without protection, for years.

Let’s consider the Strauss-Khan incident. What did this guy do? Despite his wife and children, he had inappropriate sexual relations with his maid (I just cut and pasted that sentence from above). This time it was sodomy, and the woman was forced (allegedly I should say). Underlying this is the same damn impulse. That there are certain women that these guys feel like they can do whatever they please with. And although the Weiner debacle is a bit different, there’s primary color that leaves the same stain. I find it more than coincidental that all of the women being defiled in these instances are women of color. Not that this is necessary for this dynamic to occur, and CERTAINLY not that men don’t disrespect women across the board. However, the Strauss-Kahn and A. Schwarz situations (at least) are examples of dirty heels dragging in the mire of a pernicious history that has degraded certain classes of women. In a lovely turn of events, it’s nice to know that Weiner’s sexual tweets to Genette Cordova (a young African American student/ supporter) is what precipitated his ‘outing’ as a perv (more to come on the Weiner debacle…)

To rights to this or any article on this site please EMAIL: awomansrevelation@gmail.com

What’s the point of being hot?

It finally happened the other day. I pulled up a photo of myself from about 12 years ago, and had that awful moment of former-self jealousy and lament. “Awwww!!! Dang, I used to be hot…” my insides cried, noticing every single detail that had been even slightly revised by time’s insistence. But then I started thinking about my life as it was then compared to now, and it dawned on me… what really is the difference between now and then?  How did my youthful appearance work more towards my advantage? Did I have a much greater quantity of guys back in those days? Mmmmmm, no. Did I enjoy a greater quality of man while I was younger and prettier? Let’s see, nope again. Sooooo, wait a second, what’s really the point of being hot?


Well, of course you could say, we try to look good for ourselves so we can feel our best, but does anyone ever really put on their best clothes, primp in the mirror, and look hot so they can go sit on their couch alone? I don’t think so, so we’re not doing it just for ourselves. We’re doing it to be seen, and have our ‘hotness’ validated by others so that we can feel good.

Women spend obscene amounts of money on looking hot! From basic primping, pricey hundred dollar hair cuts, thousands for a weave, the deep conditioning, single processing, bleaching blonds, the do it yourself rinse, holding gels, the $30 hair sprays from Aveda, the nourishing leave in for thickness, for curls, for straightening, for moisturizing, mousse for body, hot curling irons, rollers, blow dryers. hot waxing on the brow, chin, stahce, underarm, leg, arm, and don’t forget the trip to brazil, the perfect colors, the day and night shadows, the overpriced mascaras that come in different clumping consistencies each time, the eyeliner, gloss, bronzer, blush and highlights, the coordinated earrings, bracelet, necklace, rings, the creams and concealers, the moisturizing anti-wrinkle foaming rinse, exfoliating micro-beads, tourmaline, retinol plumping, floral scents and french eu de whatever, push up bras, clip in the front, cross in the back, strapless, backless, sideless, v-neck, comfortable, formal, under-wire, skin-toned, skin softening, manicure, pedicure, slip into a sandal, high heeled pump, handbag, leather, coach, kate spade, name spills, all over the department stores, belts and scarves, sunglass rims, and shiny accessories, fur coats and tiny matching dogs, and when stores are not enough, doctor trips to stuff plastic into the body, turned into a living doll with unmoving silicone parts, everybody looks like Michael Jackson skin t-shirts, expressionless laughter and a starbucks iced latte… for what?

What’s the point of the whole thing? What does being hot really get you?

Men:

While being hot might make it easier to attract men initially, what would they stick around for? There’s got to be something more. Being hot only lasts so long, and goes so far (like to the bedroom). Even men who are image driven and completely shallow, it only lasts until the novelty wears off, and/or someone hotter steps into the picture.

Hate:
Probably more than anything else, looking ‘hot’ will get you hated by other women. This is a fascinating phenomenon. Women who try to look hot will obsess over details, the right shoes, the hot bag, etc. But when is the last time you caught a man staring at your feet? They could care less that your shoes are by Jimmy whoever, but you know whose eyes are all over it? Other women. Many with poison in their glare.

Self- inflated importance:
You just slid on a little gloss, you have on something soft and fresh, your hair is done to kill, you give yourself an obnoxious wink in the mirror, and you head out… are you more approachable now or less approachable? Do you continue to look for somebody better, or do you enjoy the guy that’s currently talking to you? Exactly. The hotter you look, the more you end up alienating yourself from others by holding on to an inflated sense of ego.

RECAP- It seems that the point of looking hot is to inflate one’s own ego by inspiring temporary lust from a man, and/or vicious hatred from women. It doesn’t make you more likely to get married (I’d say maybe less) or win you any friends, but could that really be it?

Aesthetics
Is there some aesthetic quality to ‘hotness’ that has it’s own inherent value? Sort of an artistic appreciation, that women glamorize themselves the way artists paint masterpieces, just for beauty’s sake? I like the idea of this, but if this is the case, why do we all seem to be painting the same picture? What are the images we are forced into that have us trying to recreate the same qualities and characteristics? What if the selves we created through our own beautification rituals were truly unique and artistic (like if couture styles were normal). How awesome would that be! Until then, we have a nation of women trapped into a certain paradigm of beauty that is recreated again, and again, and again….

Let it go already!
And it seems like so many women can’t let it go. What happened to growing old with grace? Grace is getting botox, liposuction and a hair weave with all those other bitches. Women who are in their 50’s and 60’s who legitimately look 29 SCARE ME! I sat next to a couple of women at brunch who had the whole glammed up, fabulous, mimosa brunch, long hair, chitty chit chatting, designer having, nonsense and I really thought about how much I didn’t want to be like that. False. Caught up. Hot at fifty? The thought is maddening. Of course I’d like to be beautiful forever, but there’s a broad line between beautiful and hot post daggone 50. Isn’t there?

Committed to Partying…

Men past 30 are fucked up. Let’s just state the plain and simple truth. Okay, maybe 35. If your 35 and up and you are single, never been married, and you are a man, you have issues. Maybe women also, but to a lesser extent. It’s easy for a woman to become loyal to a man who evades marriage, and when she turns around, she’s mid-thirties. With a dude, on the other hand, 9 out of 10, he’s the perpetrating commitment-phobe.


So what’s going on with the post-35s? There are certainly hordes of this group who are emotionally unavailable (see top ten signs to his emotional unavailability). Male ego walls are made of alloyed steel, and any trauma to the sensitive tissue of the inner ego, even from years ago, is likely to result in an unbreakable fortress of defense (and subconscious revenge). The manifestations are wickedly brilliant. A fascinating array of conflicting behavior and gut wrenching indifference. Misleading us all.

Some are just haphazard. Crazy. Beyond repair. Others are hurtful. Spiteful. And many more without knowing they are. The post 35s in ‘da club’ with sad guppy targets, easy and numerous. (I long for a time when gray hair was dignified).

Men in ‘da club’ have never earned stripes. This reminds me of the classic Coming to America moment, where Miley from Miley’s Barber Shop (played by Eddie Murphy) was talking to Prince Hakim (also played by Eddie Murphy) and says something like “Nooooo son, you can’t go to no bar to meet a good woman! You got to go to a good place… like library… there are good women there, and church… there are good girls there, oh! And this place I’m going tonight, the Ms. Awareness pageant… there’s gonna be some fine women there!”

This was a gem of advice! But sadly, there is no Mr. Anything pageant with half naked adoring men on display (if you don’t get this reference, go watch Coming to America immediately… )

So where should women go to meet men? Church? Mmmmm, I go to church to praise God, not look for men. I’m not looking for men at the gym or the bookstore either. And men who are trying to pick up women they don’t know while out randomly running errands are creepy! I met a guy at the gym once, and he kept on working out behind me and texting me about how I looked (aaaaagggghhh! Yick! I had to change my gym schedule…)

Places where social interaction is inherent are the places we happen to meet the most people. If you’re out of school and working, then lounges, parties, bbq’s, and other social functions seem like your best opportunity. But in this scene as a post 35 is precarious. Some are truly caught up in this lifestyle, a non-stop party addiction to “pleasure.” In it’s extended longevity looms a needy abandon, continually spiting itself.

The last guy I started to truly care about (they come few and far between) began his reign of marked distance just as thing were about to bloom. Why? He was busy. Sooooo very busy. With friends parties, and Vegas trips, and well… more parties that he was “committed” to. His words. The irony of those words in that context was striking. I’m all for friends and good times, but a commitment to partying? Is this okay? Is this the new normal? Am I abnormal for expecting anything more at this stage? Or am I subconsciously setting myself up? Are we men and women “of a certain age” really just committed to not being committed?

Solo Travel

Here I sit. A blissful single at a four top table on a random Wednesday in JFK airport waiting with giddy anticipation for my flight to Costa Rica, a trip I am taking by myself. This is not the first time I’ve traveled solo, and I’m sure it wont be the last. In fact I hadn’t really thought much about it until a friend of my looked at me with awe and remarked, “You’re going to a foreign country… by yourself?” each of us looking at the other like she was crazy. “Why not?” I asked and answered, forgetting for a moment that most people link friends and family into their journey. But I don’t always have that luxury. If I waited for my friends to go anywhere, I’d never make it past Miami. And trying to coordinate folks is like running full speed into the wall, getting up, and then skipping into the wall, getting up, and then walking into the wall, until eventually you just bang your fists against the wall, screaming and cursing uselessly. And as far as family is concerned… well I won’t make that mistake again (Jeesus).

So it’s me. Just little old me  And for any woman who has considered taking a trip by herself, but hasn’t, I’m here to tilt you in the right direction. I’ll start with the positive. Here are some of the absolute best things about solo travel:

You can do whatever YOU want to do.
You make your own schedule and fill it however you like. You don’t have to rush for people, wait for people, compromise, spend money you don’t want to spend, or do anything that is not a part of YOUR agenda. That can be powerful.

Meeting new people.
When you’re with friends, you can enjoy their company which is great. But solo travel really opens you up to meeting new people, which may lead to new experiences that you hadn’t considered before. Two of my close friends I met abroad, both traveling solo through Eastern Africa. One was living temporarily in Ethiopia and I got the opportunity to experience a more real, non-touristy side of life in that region. The other woman I met during that trip was so excited about where she was planning to visit next, I was enticed into taking a detour from my original plan and joining her. One of the best decisions ever. The awesome and insane adventures we had during that trip would be perfect feed for a movie. (maybe I’ll write a short story).

Freedom from other people’s crap.
Now this I mean literally. You can avoid the stinky bathroom problem. You travel, you eat together, everybody has to sh*t at the same time. You have to suffer through someone else’s funk, or be the perpetrator yourself. Blech!

Liberating.
There’s something simply empowering about seizing upon your own opportunity, not waiting for anyone else, not needing permission, or being leashed together. Walking out strong and secure on your own into uncharted territory and focusing on your own thoughts, reflections and responses to new stimuli. It can be refreshing if you have the trust, faith and openness to really make the best of your time.

BUT…. There are always buts. So let me try to rebut the buts.

Danger. (lions and tigers and men… oh my!)
Let’s face it. Women face more danger than men. It’s most likely true that they are targeted more and taken advantage of more frequently. Keeping this in mind, keep your brain on ladies. Avoidance is key. DON’T PUT YOURSELF IN A SITUATION WHERE YOU ARE LIKELY TO BE OUT OF CONTROL. Don’t drink too much, don’t get in a strange dudes car, don’t flirt with guys unless you want to talk to them, and even then, don’t give away too much information. No one has to know you’re by yourself. Use your judgment. Use your gut. Be clear about what you want and you don’t want. Danger can be avoided.

Loneliness.
This can also be avoided. Don’t stay somewhere ultra secluded. Strategically place yourself in the mix and find some friendly people to talk to. There’s always potential bubbling, open up to it. Tune into other people and see where you might jump in. And ladies, please don’t hate, talk to other women too.

Other people’s judgment.
Who cares what anyone else thinks.

More expensive.
With no one else to defray the costs of lodging, taxis, etc. solo travel is typically more expensive. Nothing I can really say about that one. You just have to deal with it or not.

So if you have the opportunity to travel, you have the time, you have the means, but you can’t seem to find anyone to accompany you, go with yourself. Try it. Do your due diligence first. Research the area, keep yourself safe, but don’t let your solo status stifle you, let your independence motivate you.

Portion Control



Dieting is a lot like dating. Both take discipline. Both suck after about a week. Both can leave you slightly annoyed, or malnourished. And as difficult as both can be, I’m finding that I lack portion control with either one.

If someone drops a 12 ounce steak in front of me, I’m likely to enjoy the entire thing. But strangely, if only 6 ounces of the same is put before me, I will gobble it up and feel equally satisfied. I have no sense of portions. It’s really only about whatever is on my plate for dinner.

This has translated into the dating realm as well. What happens is I attempt to “control” my experience by controlling my portions (the men). I don’t go for guys who are too flashy or attractive because I’m worried that I will be worried. I don’t want the stress of pulling my hair out, knowing that women are going to be throwing themselves at him left and right, and wondering about whether he’s cheating. But what I’ve realized is, no matter who is put in front of my face, I will play out the same drama, live out the same experiences, assume the same things! Whether it’s 6 ounces or, 12 ounces, young and tender or dry and aged, grilled or broiled, I will end up feeling the same way.

The light at the end of this road is two-fold. First, I’ve learned that there’s no need to worry. I might as well go for the 12 ounce ☺ (being as they cost the same). Second, I have really been opened up to my actual potential for unconditional love. The heftiness of a 12 ounce steak aside, I’m certain I could love a 6 ounce just as much. Or a lamb chop. Or a dish of whole wheat pasta. Whatever. I know that I can be fully satisfied with what’s on my plate.

Waiting for Mr. Wrong!?

What a smack in the face that in this day and age, not only do we have to risk being heartbroken by those we considered Mr. Right, but to add insult to injury, we actually have to be sidelined and second tiered by those we don’t even really like and are only giving a chance because hey, ya never know. This insulting circumstance can make a girl want to stop the whole dating process altogether. I mean seriously, if it wasn’t for the free gifts and the retrospective amusement, I’d have stopped long ago.

I was invited on a Friday night date to the movies which I accepted despite the fact that the dude during our last date (on which I contributed to the bill) mentioned that he had not only one son that we had talked about earlier, but another daughter by another baby mama somewhere else. In fact, based on that first date, the only real redeeming quality was that… he was nice. A quality sadly rare enough to try again. Since niceness is something that lies at the foundation of the type of relationship I would like, I figured I should see where it goes.

To make a long story short, after rushing home from work to wash my hair and get ready for our date, he ends up not responding to my text asking what his ETA was, and finally hitting me around 9:00 after having gone to happy hour with some co- workers, talking about he was going to go home to shower and change, and then come (40 min drive)…. And not to worry, he can ‘still make it happen.’ I just didn’t respond.

I write about this because it happened last night, but that is FAR from the worst story, or even a bad story. It’s actually quite typical. But wait a minute… this shit is typical? Can we really start to think about this please???

It’s one thing to have to put up with erratic and disappointing behavior from someone you’re actually interested in. But when the practice dudes start getting too big for their britches, it says a lot about the devolution of the whole dating process and relationships in general. When the standard of behavior for men has become so unthinkably low that any ole guy just thinks he can do whatever he pleases, it’s time… Women as a group really need to put their collective foot down. We have to blast that substandard bar of ‘acceptable’ male behavior out of the dirty deep mire from where it’s entrenched and set it up high for the champions. For the athletes, for the strong and determined, for the heart driven winners. I’m rooting for men to sail over that bar. They will reach heightened levels of expectation. They will be respectful and caring. They will be strong enough to show love! But those expectations must exist.

I know from my experience helping kids that if you expect them to do well… they do well. If you expect them to perform poorly, they perform poorly. It’s as simple as that. If we accept substandard and unworthy treatment, that is what we will continue to get. And as long as there are so many women willing to put up with some bullshit, that’s what guys will do. But here’s one woman who refuses to be saddled with the heinous heap of dung that men mindlessly step into. Wipe your feet, clean your face, get some flowers, then come knocking at my door…

Are You a Hater?

Ladies, this hate business has got to end. The sideways glance, the look up and down, the sour face, the cold shoulder, the cutting remark, the anxious gossip, it all NEEDS TO STOP. Girl on girl hate is ridiculous and pathetic. It is a damaging force that devastates pathways towards true and meaningful interaction and instead builds barricades. Tall and striking impediments to the psycho-social well being of women. And it is not the woman who is hated on that bears the full weight of these burdensome walls, but the hater herself who suffers the most.

While reading, I came across a really powerful quote that applies to all areas of life, and is particularly fitting here :

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, “My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt resentment, ineriority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

“The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.”

The grandson tought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf wins?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

-Anonymous

When we hate on other women, we are feeding and sustaining the negativity looming inside of us. We are contributing to our own destruction. Why do we do this? Where does the hate come from after all? Very simply, hating comes from jealousy. When you hate someone ho has done nothing to you, it stems from jealous insecurity. Your interpretation of your own lack, your own shortcomings, or things that you fear. Women who don’t feel at all threatened, who are happy and content don’t go around hating other women. Why would they? Women who have nothing better to do than to zero in on the imperfections of others (and we are all imperfect) and harp on those things are only attempting to boost their own ego, to make themselves feel better about themselves by focusing on the faults of someone else. Women who give other women the evil eye, the forced fake smile, are harboring hatred based upon their own feelings of lack.

And it all comes trough they eyes. You can just feel the hatred seeping through some women. The energy is profound. The tiny subtleties are enormous. Jealousy is a beast, born from the curse of insecurity, and the more it is fed, allowed and strengthened, the farther we will be from truly loving ourselves.

Do you do any of the following?

• Gossip about other women
• Feel desire for bad things to happen to other women
• Look for the imperfections in other women
• Act standoffish towards other women
• Badmouth other women to men
• Try to put yourself above other women
• Get mad when you see an attractive woman

If so, your hating. Stop it.

I know this can be hard given our culture of competition, the haves and the have nots, the beauty and glamour vs. the plain and mundane, everybody wants to be on top, everybody wants to be perfect. We have images of ‘perfection’ shoved up our nose every second. They enter our psyche and can contribute to our self perception. It’s so easy to hate. To put others down to try and build ourselves up, but that is weak.

What can we do? We have to try to stop ourselves. Don’t allow those impulses. Cut them off at the knees. Laugh at them. Realize where they come from. DON’T INDULGE!

Be honest with yourself if you’re hating. At the end of the day, you’re only hating yourself.

Next Page »