Ready for round three? Let’s begin.
7. Stroke his ego, and other parts – Men want to feel like men. They want to feel needed and wanted. Tell him how much you appreciate him, especially when he does something nice. Let him know you respect him as a man. And touch him. Be tactile with him.
1. Maybe men (these men you’re writing about, whoever they might be) would be treated like men if they didn’t act like entitled 2 year olds.
2. I would find it easier to respect him as a man if he weren’t fucking around on me. I’m pretty sure I speak for the majority of women when I say it’s pretty difficult to respect your cheating husband.
Come on, Sarah, you’re treating men like they’re idiots. No, you treat them like fragile crystal. Or a scared kitten.
Come here, kitty… let me love you. I’ve got a warm house and a soft blanket and plenty of yummy food. Come here, you sweet little bundle of fur. I won’t hurt you. You’re such a pretty kitty. Oh yes you are! You’re so so pretty! Let me pet you and hold you. Oh that’s it. You’re so soft. Do you like it when I scratch your ears? How about under your chin? Oh, you really like that! Yes, you do! Yes, you do! You are such a pretty kitty! I’m going to love you forever and never let you go!
I don’t have a problem with letting someone know I appreciate what they’ve done. I’ve never had a problem saying, “Thank you.” I’m not talking about being dismissive of someone or treating them like they owe you. I think I’m a pretty kind person. I think I show a lot of love and affection and that I express appreciation. You, however, are ridiculous. And exhausting. My God, it’s a constant cycle of being “on” and having to cater to his ego. If “your man” needs this much ego stroking I can’t imagine you have too much of a relationship. He sounds like a giant baby. It, in fact, reminds me of coaching my own children.
Be gentle, honey; pet the doggy softly. No, no! We read books; we don’t throw them in the toilet. I’m so proud of you for not getting in trouble at school today! Thank you for doing the dishes. Hey, great job getting up this morning and getting ready for school all on your own. I really liked the way you didn’t call your brother an asshole today. Thank you for unclogging the toilet without having to be told.
It also reminds me of CF telling me he wanted me to come watch him mow the yard. He wanted me to follow him with my eyes, and maybe fetch him a cool refreshing drink. He wanted me to just touch him as I passed by. Guess what, Sarah? I did all those things for the giant man baby. He’s living with and fucking his cousin now.
Was I faithful because he did all of these things you’re telling us wives to do? Hell, do they even need to do any of these things? You never talk about any give and take in relationships; it’s all about what women need to do to hang on to their man. So I apologize for being a bit unclear.
Ultimately though, no, I wasn’t faithful because he did all those things. Oh sure, occasionally he would pick me up a candy bar from the gas station. He would thank me for making dinner. Towards the end he would tell me I was sexy or beautiful or amazing. I got about 16 months of that. Mostly he kicked me out of the bed, didn’t want to hold my hand, and closed himself off in the bedroom. I was faithful because I have a moral compass. I was faithful because I’m loyal until the end. I was faithful because I took my vows seriously. I was faithful because that’s just who I am.
I say again: You do not control another person’s behavior. Not by what you do. Not by what you don’t do.
8. Be Sexy – Even if you sit around in your sweatpants all day, be sure to change just before he comes home from work into something sexier. Oh and remember to shave those legs, and other parts.
Yes, because there’s nothing I love more than donning high heels and cleaning toilets! Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I can clean the toilets in comfort; I just need to make sure I hop right up before he gets home so that I can shower and shave and look like some sort of sex goddess. Because otherwise he’ll cheat.
You sound like the 1950s Home Ec book that made its rounds: Put a fresh ribbon in your hair. Lightly spray perfume.
Because once again we are nothing more than the man’s adoring audience.
The kids are killing one another? Oops! Sorry, kids, Daddy’s on his way home. Mommy’s got to put on her mini skirt and high heels so that Daddy feels like a real man when he gets home. If Mommy isn’t sexy enough Daddy will leave her and you’ll grow up being bounced back and forth between two homes.
You’ve spent twelve hours with a screaming, colicky baby? Just put that baby down, apply some make-up, put on your best slut clothes and get ready to dazzle!
You’ve got one kid who needs to be transported to karate and one that needs to be picked up from piano. You’re in the middle of making dinner, one of your kid’s teachers just called, and you forgot to grab the dry cleaning and it closes in fifteen minutes. Don’t worry about any of that. Chuck all your responsibilities and put on something pretty. Leopard print is preferable.
You know what I want, Sarah? I want a man who thinks I look sexy even when I am wearing sweats. I want a man who can appreciate the fact that I’m making dinner, juggling schedules, and keeping everything going and yet still look up from what I’m doing and say, “Hi, baby! How was your day?”
See? I’m not a total bitch. I have no problem with doing things for others. Hell, I did EVERYTHING for the man I married. He still cheated. Because whatever it was that I did it was never enough.
I oppose this idea that by ignoring all of our wants and needs, and that by doing things we don’t feel like doing, we will somehow have this perfect relationship with a man who would never dream of cheating… if we can just dance pretty enough for him.
9. Ambiance – Create an environment he will enjoy when he comes home. Focus on soft lighting, scented candles and gentle music playing. Maybe run a hot bath, or jump in a steamy shower with him. Have his favourite drink ready, or enjoy a glass of wine together. Hide the kid’s toys, and any other clutter.
I wish you could see me right now, Sarah, because I am rolling my eyes so hard I fear they might fall out of my head. I think, dear Sarah, that this is the main difference between a wife and a mistress.
As his mistress you never had children. You were a kept woman. You fucked rich, married, entitled men who would pay your rent, buy you pretty things and support you. Your “job”, if you will, was to please him at all times. You could set the stage. You could play your gentle music with your candlelight glowing and then enjoy a glass of wine together. You could jump in the shower with him. Because you had no other obligations.
And what in the hell is with this, “run a hot bath”? Are you seriously drawing a bath for a grown ass man because he can’t figure out how to run a faucet, or because he’s just so exhausted he doesn’t have time? Or is this one of those, “We’ll soak in the tub together because it’s so romantic and sexy,” moments? Dear Jesus I hope it’s the latter.
Let me tell you what would have happened if I had done that when my kids were little. The candles probably would have ended up knocked over and setting the house on fire. They would be wondering why we weren’t listening to The Disney Channel and running around like crazy. While we were soaping each other up in the shower, sipping our wine, they would be going crazy in the other room. If the house hadn’t caught on fire then there would be a mess of epic proportions. Guess who would get to clean that up? Of course it would be me. I’d lay 50-50 odds on whether or not my daughter would have tried to kill my son. And honestly? I would be amazed if we could even keep them out of the bathroom while we had our sexy time. They could pick locks. More than likely we would be treated to little hands pulling back the shower curtain and little voices asking, “What are you doing in here? When are you going to be done? Why are you taking a shower together? Can I have some of your drink? Why does his penis look like that? Are you done yet? I’m hungry. Picasso won’t stop touching me. Can I get in the shower with you? Rock Star hit me.”