Love Isn’t Always On Time and Things I Wish I Had Known

Caution to probable male readers: This is not for the faint of heart. I had flicked off a few of my blog buddies, one by one, just to be able to write posts like this. But then, I suddenly found myself earning a new set of dude pals because I just couldn’t help myself from clicking Like on your impressive blog posts. Now I may have another batch to flick away – soon. 😀

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Nobody in my childhood and teen years had hammered to my awareness the value of enriching the mind. I was raised in a household that glorified good looks more than cerebral strength. Same as to the necessity in complying with societal norms; Everyone should get married, have children, try to live happily ever after.

In the recent past, almost everybody never gets tired aiming these questions at me: “You aren’t seeing anyone anymore? Do you realize how much you’re missing out on not having a man?”

If the inquisitor is a female, it’s tempting to bounce back with: “You know, you’re just too dull to cultivate any hobbies instead of immersing yourself with the crap your man throws your way.”

If it’s a man, it would be lovely to imagine myself blurting out: “@s$h*l*.”

But I try to manage with a smile. Sometimes my counter goes like “Eh, they’re all the same” — although it may prompt me to run for my life afterwards. 🙂  My safer candid reply has come down to, “If only it was that easy to hook up with anyone for hooking-up’s sake.” 

Look, I’ve been through all that – young love, sweet romances, affairs, marriage, matrimonial dissolution, dating, younger men, etc. They entirely sum up to an unfortunate truth: I wasted too much of my precious time on men.

Don’t get me wrong. I do like men. No, to be precise, I love men. They’re fabulous friends, buddies, helpers, acquaintances, entertainers, co-workers, bosses, business partners, etc. I am grateful for having them around.

And I still get crushes: I blush helplessly in front of a ridiculously handsome, humorous, charming man; glance surreptitiously at the hottest-looking guy inside a 7-11 store; fall off my chair (out of admiration) reading well-crafted blog posts of interestingly (emphasis on the term interesting) intelligent men. I may be jaded, but I’m not dead.

In the actual romance department, though, it’s undeniable men are fantastic only during the early stages — best to enjoy them while they’re still into you, I mean. Subsequently, things inevitably turn downhill.

Before I forget, the words sharp and “very wise” have also been used to describe me.

The highest number of responses I garnered came from my “opus” —  https://justmarj.wordpress.com/2013/11/16/the-satirical-hard-facts-about-being-single-strictly-for-ladies-only/ — which received mild criticism from one or two co-bloggers who told me I had been merely lashing out for all the romantic blows I took in the past. Partly true, I guess. Even so, my major issues remain: Why do women generally have to come out as the pathetic gender in the sphere of love? Why are they willing to swallow a massive nutty pile of bullshit from their partners just to duck the prospect of being alone, at least, for a while?

Unless you were fortunate to have ended up with the person The Gods of Heavens had matched you up with, sustaining a relationship would be a lifetime of struggle. Especially for the woman who’ll always be on the losing side by reason of her cultural status and emotional constitution. Why has jumping through hoops always been the woman’s task?

The principal cause of men misbehaving happens to be us, too. We women let them get away with unacceptable behaviour. Then we feel dreadful and disgraced for having allowed the mistreatment.

All around me I see only couples who simply go on enduring the company of their better halves for whatever reasons. They aren’t happy, either. A greater number are even tons unhappier than the unmarried ones. And there’s this thing I have noted as well: The inevitable crisis of growing old could tame some men and make them behave better, or finally results to them becoming improved, docile mates. Nevertheless, what kind of woman would be willing to wait that long?

Loneliness is likely the no-joke repercussion most single women can’t bear going through. As for me, I don’t feel the type of loneliness these women are straining to dodge. Honestly. Maybe I’m finer flying solo. Or perhaps, for mysterious reasons, it just doesn’t bother me. The conformists will, however, always have something unpleasant to say to my case and argument.

I watched an Oprah episode on man-woman issues ages ago that had one man asserting, “Most often (for us), it’s all about right timing.” The rest of the men in the audience nodded. It’s that simple. I wish I had known that in my much younger days. I wish all women knew that. So they wouldn’t have to shed all those tears and keep jumping through hoops which are undesirable corollaries to the “privilege” of staying as the other half of a couple.

To my mind, still, that man’s sentiment is a brown nutty pile of bullshit.

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I couldn’t think of a better title for this post other than the the words “love isn’t always on time” from the lyrics of “Hold The Line,” my favorite from the band Toto. The song says it well: It’s never really about what the woman does to keep a man. Please get that, my fellow gals.

The Satirical Hard Facts About Being Single (Strictly For Ladies Only)

Whenever my memory pokes to remind me of my naive self in my 20s, I get a strong urge to hop on any time machine available to be able to hunt down the younger me from years back – and give her a couple of large slaps on each cheek so that she may wake up to her senses when it comes to dealing with the affairs of the heart.

Reading some single ladies – both young and old, including highly intelligent ones – blog about romantic love or lack of it in their lives these days makes me cringe and wonder if I had sounded that much asinine myself in the annals of this site. After all, this blog has been serving as my diary and memoir – where a huge lack of shame on my part must be exercised to target its purpose.

It’s impossible to chronicle my romantic past without somehow indulging in a moderate degree of male bashing here. It is something I have evaded for too long as there are a few male blog pals who have become dear to my heart; each of them earning a special place in my blogging world in distinctive ways. Basically, I like men as friends and as the opposite sex. But I need to set that fact aside in writing something like this for the enlightenment, hopefully, of women my kind. A blog buddy has given his blessings for me to go ahead. So if any of my other male pals comes across this post, may they have the better sense to skip reading and turn away. This piece is dedicated exclusively for female readers – the single ones to be precise.

I wish all single ladies, young and old, feel this way.

Listen, my dear ladies: Once you’ve reached your forties, you will make a fool of yourself if you treat the search for a good man a serious matter. When you begin approaching middle-age, a nice-looking single guy with good character and good intentions is already impossible to find. It’s not your fault. Blame it on the globe’s oversupply of our gender species. Now in case you attempt to make it with a dude younger than you – it’s gonna be pointless still. Unless your intention is pure torrid sex and lotsa fun. Men generally think in the “What’s in it for me?” mode. They are naturally inclined that way. As a result, we women will be a never-ending subject for exploitation and humiliation – if we don’t watch it. On the other hand, if you go for an older guy, well… I doubt a man your age or your senior will take an interested glance your direction by reason of your (maturing) good looks. You see, older men could only itch for girls young enough to be their daughters. Again, it’s their natural inclination. Just like when they glue themselves much into free porn and are busy subscribing to sites that exhibit very young poor girls from all over the world taking their clothes off online. If you’re a wife to one of them, you might ask, “What’s become of my role, then?” Not to worry, you still get the “honor” of being your husband’s caretaker in his twilight years. FYI: Why do ya think Japanese wives are in a hustle to divorce their husbands once retirement years come around? Simple. To claim both their freedom and the money from their pervert mates. Clever Asian gals, huh.

Others will advise you “Don’t lose hope. Keep on searching for the frog. For your Prince, I mean.” That is mighty old school. I say, let it go if it’s not meant to be. Let your rational mind rule your heart. You deserve the best things this planet can offer – including a True Love or The Real One meant for you. Not just anything and anyone. You don’t need to waste your precious time… nor your precious heart repeatedly.

Look, ladies, I do believe in soulmates. How else can you explain the few cases of undying commitment and amour (with lust) between a couple like Prince Charles and Camilla, Sting and Trudie Styler, John Lennon and Yoko Ono, Paul and Linda McCartney, etc. They definitely have what most other couples don’t have. Unions other than theirs are either based on fleeting attraction or pragmatic matters which require a lot of hard work for continuity. If you’ve really found the right one for you, Congrats. If not, ask yourself these questions: Don’t you have better things to do than settle for less than the real thing? Do you really need just any “distraction” to get you through life?

Remember as well: If it isn’t written in the cards for you to grow old with a man, no amount of whining and seductive verses on your blog can alter your single status. I mean, c’mon… Sure such verbal stunts tickle the dirty fantasies of your male readers. But that’s all. You still are plain entertainment, in their POV.

We can always choose to release ourselves from the bondage of vain hopes and the disappointment of unmet expectations. Don’t forget how blessed a woman is if she doesn’t take for granted the many things she actually enjoys on her solo flight such as her family & friends, her job, her hobbies, her freedom, her independence, and her sanity. If I hadn’t suffered the severest blow of my whole existence earlier this year, you’d still find me on my knees counting my lucky stars above. Life is awesomely beautiful, with or without a man on your side.

I swear that when I reach my 50s, which is some few years from now, I’ll be totally holding my peace about singlehood and go commit myself to the nunnery. Until then, let’s all try harder to be dignified about this “not having a man” thing. Do we have a deal, single ladies out there?

I remember a certain children’s song from my childhood: “Calm down, Sit down, Stop rocking the boat.” Aah, wrong lyrics. But you get the message, I’m sure.

The Delight of Being “One of the Boys”

Having a relationship with a man can be emotionally draining for me. I have often struggled with the notion that the presence of a man in my life in a romantic sense isn’t worth it at all if he can’t make me happy. I guess I’m such a dreamer when it comes to love. I’ve been told recently that the kind of love we dream of is increasingly impossible to find especially as one gets older. Sad but true. I can be ok with that though. I resolve I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than compromise my ideals. But I’ll expound on that next time in another post. Meanwhile, what I want to express here is the kind of pleasure I get in having men as simply “buddies.” Just plain, good ole buddies. Because men are such interesting species despite their frailties and uh, “wickedness.”  I do like men but they can occasionally or often be a “pain in the ass.” Having one as a boyfriend most probably would just give me trouble than pure bliss. So why don’t I just enjoy them as mere pals or chums? I must be a whiz gal to come up with that, right?

I’ve always enjoyed the company of the opposite gender. Sure I’ve had rotten experiences with a few of them in the romance department, but that doesn’t dismay me in continuing to build or nurture friendships with them. They can be really nice and delightful as comrades. It’s always been a pleasure having them around in my life. A lot of laughter and joy has ensued in my life because these particular breed of humans are humorous, fun and breezy to be with. They lack the pettiness that you usually find in female friends. And I like the fact that in contrast to women, men will never tire you of empty verbiage (unless of course the man is gay). They are not that fond too of non-stop talking. Just like me. Yours truly is usually quiet and reserved.

If you truly want to enjoy them as the opposite gender, you have to do away with mushy emotions and deal with them in a direct, casual manner. You don’t need to understand them perfectly well if you just want to be pals with them. They’re very simple to deal with. They can be easy to please. They may get impatient though when they have to conduct themselves in shades of gray, so their choices must be strictly limited to black and white. That is, if you don’t want them to become bona fide pricks. I swear they’ll thank you dearly if you could go straight to the point when you talk to them. Any attempt for a sappy exchange is a waste of time. Likewise, sharing of soulful sentiments can be a herculean task. The downside with having them as friends is the frustration you’ll get by the shallowness of your communication with each other. They can’t be arsed to want to talk about deep feelings, except if they’re in danger of getting dumped in their jobs. In case you don’t know, only one thing can rightfully obsess them.  And that is their job or work.

I guess John Gray got it so right in telling that Men are from Mars, Women from Venus. Men and women seem to have come from different planets indeed. No need to even mention the asteroids and other heavenly bodies that may get in between. 🙂

In my case, I may not fully comprehend their behavior and actions but I pretty much have an idea what goes on in a man’s psyche. I can switch my mode of thinking to their level once I start hanging around or dealing with them. Most men I’ve dealt and transacted with at work have sort of complimented me on how I could be comfortable in their presence. Ehem. I believe I had a lot of practice in my younger years. I wasn’t the flowery, delicate kind of girl then. I raced around, played basketball, climbed trees, participated in other sports, and chased dragonflies with the other boys in the neighborhood. Most of the best friends I had from grade school to university were male. When I was young, my brother and I were the best of pals, which goes to say he became my favorite sibling. And as you may all know by now, my father is my favorite parent as he figures heavily in some of my posts here.

Having them as buddies and having them as lovers are totally distinct. Given my current status, do they sometimes misinterpret my friendliness and harbor the idea I’d be willing to hook up with them? Of course they do. I believe all men welcome those thoughts in the company of their female close friends. But once I’ve managed to enlighten them with the truth subtly, they eventually get the message that their companionship and goodwill are the only things I need from them.

Last year, only three male teachers were left for permanency status in our school (the rest are all female). A gay man in his late 30s, a married man in his mid 30s and a straight guy in his mid- 20s who’s been engaged to his girlfriend for years. So I felt safe when I penetrated my way into their exclusive club to become a fellow camaraderie. You see, I have this ability to be quite friendly if I choose to. It didn’t take long before I totally blended and was considered to be “one of the guys.” For several months, it had been great to be part of the group. Hanging around during break time, having lunch together, shooting the breeze about plenty of matters in our lives. And you can just imagine the things I heard when they talked about women. When I’m with them, I don’t expect them to treat me any differently. I’m older than these male colleagues of mine but delightfully, they tend to forget that when we’re having a conversation or kidding around.

As expected, most good things never last. Alas, late last year the “straight” guy had to quit teaching for the greener pastures of a call center job. It wouldn’t be fun anymore without him so we sort of disbanded. Things couldn’t be the same without our “youngest brother.”

We still keep in touch once in a while and are still friendly toward one another. Yet I’ve come to miss those times every now and then. It’s such a pleasure having men as friends. That much will always be true for me.