A while back I wrote about Married Men and their propensity to always mention their wives in casual conversations with me. By far the biggest response to this phenomenon I got from men and women alike was as follows:
It is entirely my fault. I am obviously putting out a vibe which makes those poor married fellas feel uncomfortable and think that I am hitting on them — therefore they need me to know they are off limits.
So even if they start the conversation, we’re sitting at a bar in an airport finishing a drink with 15 minutes left till boarding time on planes going in opposite directions with no conceivable time for even a quickie and they are never going to see me again — they need me to know — “Forget it, sister! I am off limits. Don’t even THINK that I would cheat on my wife with you.”
Their behavior, their response to me as a human — still is MY fault.
I call bullshit.
Men are curious beasts. Every day I am thankful I no longer keep one.
Because I am done taking the blame for anyone else’s behavior but my own. And to be clear, I have plenty of my own behavior — good and bad — to go around to take the blame for. Thanks so much.
I am OLD. I am a Nana. Of Three. I am a FLUFFY NANA of Three. With gray and purple hair.
I wear no makeup. And I dress like I just stepped out of a yoga class most of the time. Especially when I’m traveling.
I have Zero Estrogen left in my body. ZERO. In fact, I might have more testosterone floating around than some of said Married Men. If the guys I’ve dated are to be believed — I have plenty of balls and I’ve been accused more than once of being ‘the guy’ in the relationship.
I can’t make that shit up.
There isn’t a damn thing ‘Come hither’ about me.
I read a book a long time ago called “Why Men Love Bitches” — so perhaps that might be a bit of what is going on? Men might be programmed by society (and this book — which was funny/not funny) to think women who act like they don’t give a shit if you talk to them or not are playing some kind of bitch mind game with them.
I’m not. I really don’t give any shits if you talk to me or not.
And if you believe that is the vibe which will cause you to cheat, your marriage is in deep trouble, son. All of you who believe that I am the root cause of this phenomenon are in deep trouble.
As always in life, how people treat you is about them. Their stuff. 100% of the time. Someone overtly confirming to me out of the blue they are not available as a play toy when that option was so far off the table tells me — they actually are INDEED available as a play toy but they need ME to make sure I uphold the Sisterhood and protect their wife from their lying cheating ass.
Which I am happy to do.
Because — Sisterhood.
Adults. Owning up to their own internal voices and quirks for centuries. Try to be one. Even if you’re a Married Man. Sitting next to me. In a bar. In an airport. Hardly able to resist my “No makeup, yoga clothes, Nana with purple hair, leaving in 15 minutes, don’t give a shit about you, adulterous” vibe.
Because obviously — I am a complete Jezabel. SMH.