THE FACEBOOOK MAN
He'll find a way. It
may be at work, at the gym, at the cooking course. You
are minding your own business and he comes out of nowhere, only to raffle off
your peace and delete the tranquility of your life. Forget
the doldrums. He'll get to shake you structures. He'll
insist, poke, tease and set up the
net (on and offline) to catch you, mermaid. And
you'll think he's all yours, woman! This is how he will make you feel like: a woman. He
will turn you inside out and leave you glowing, smiling at the world and
laughing at the universe, after all, he is the shit. Your
skin will look good and you will make up for the lost time, as your aunt would
say.
It works really well if you are in a half assed
relationship, with no prospect of wild nights in unusual places or even that
good old missionary in the middle of the night. This
is the right man to spice up your mac and cheese. That
quick cheating that makes you remember how it is to be desired, worshiped,
adored and hail your marriage. You will give your super busy hubby some time off as
you go crazy with the Facebook man. But
if you are free, unencumbered, ready for all and something more, be careful:
the thing is addictive and you'll want to check it out all the time. And
that is only allowed from Monday to Friday during business hours. The
Facebook Man is temporarily unavailable right on weekends.
We are facing a man who is pure pleasure. It's
like after like, after like! It's joy, it's Facebook. You
don't show him much of yourself. Actually, you show almost nothing but your best
parts, which to him are your private parts. After all, that's all he knows
about you. Wait for the hottest sexting of your life. "In
box" messages in the middle of the board meeting that will have you
turning blue, dying of heat to the point of having to ask for a glass of ice
water and another. But if you get sick, for instance, or need some
advice, run to the 'husband', never to him. He
hates complaints. His business is to listen to whispers and moans. Whining? Only
in bed, begging for more!
He does not want to hear about your interview, your
dog, your boss or your cake. He wants you all, but not whole. He
wants you lying, naked, open legs and closed mouth. It
could even be considered a twitter man: few characters and no character. But
no, he never lied. It was you that never asked. You
should have seen it before adding him to your life. He
is the Facebook man: he's supposed to be liked and shared.
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The Glass Slipper Syndrome.
This
is a new thing that has become regular among women in their 30's: abandoning
the prince after the ball. Disappearing, vanishing, scampering away suddenly
after the big dance. The girl affected by this evil hops into the carriage,
turns the runaway mode on and flees the scene. She does not give the prince an opportunity
for a "good night, Cinderella" let alone a "good morning,
Princess." Do not be a fool; this is not a fairy tale. It
could turn out to be one but the poor girl would never know. After all, she
suffers from the Glass Slipper Syndrome.
As
far as I know - not that I’m an expert - the disorder resembles a widespread
panic attack that causes the carrier of the syndrome to flee before going back
to be Cinderella and much longer before the prince turns back into a frog.
After that, there is no bountiful fairy god-fucking-mother able to break the
disenchantment! The bad girl gets dressed and starts running away
without any fear of losing her knickers or a shoe along the way. She does not
mind she might be missing a great opportunity to be happy, at least until the
second page of this story, but the nut job disappears in the middle of the
first page. That makes things even harder.
I
have heard of extreme cases in which the girl simply gives up going to the ball
because of pure lack of interest. There
is no evil stepmother or jealous sister to hide the invitation. She
will not go to the ball because she knows the waltz will be too good to be true
and she has already broken many heels while dancing for nothing.
But
why do such things happen? Asking a few friends and friends of friends, I found
out that in this phase of disenchantment, although no one believes in such
wasted fables, fragments of several of them act on our (oops!) unconscious in a
way they may trigger the syndrome. They are:
1 -
Mirror, mirror - the girl does not want to be seen in daylight, with running
makeup and melted heart;
2 -
Sleeping beauty-she snores and is ashamed of the embarrassment;
3 -
Alice's Madness – the most frequent reason - sick and tired of trying to play the
princess she has never been but already is, she wonders what will come after
that first dance. It is involuntary, she simply imagines that other dances may
come, or not. She may get involved, or not. She may fall in love or not. And
there may be a huge mismatch and she does not want that ever again in her life. She
decides to make the story short and after that "quickie", she quickly
flees. It’s like she keeps on hearing the White Rabbit
saying: "It's late! It's late!”
Whatever
the reason, the syndrome is so harsh that, at the slightest sign of
enchantment, the girl embodies Julia Roberts. I’m not saying Julia in Pretty
Woman but in Runaway Bride, afraid of everything going wrong, or going too
right! Runaway dumb, very dumb, because then she suffers
more, wondering what could have been. The
magic ends and a story that does not begin cannot have a happy
ending.
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Take up the cudgels for somebody, but
do it in moderation.
I confess: I'm addicted to that crap. At first, you feel more
generous, sociable, safe and all. You take one gulp, stick the chest out
and go for it!. You raise your voice and clash with anyone. You
cannot hold back, it is unstoppable! Your blood boils and then you
realize, it's done, already out there. Once again you interfered, meddled,
helped someone you supposed needed your help ... and got screwed up again.
Have you ever noticed that it happens most
of the times we take the cudgels for somebody? Think of a situation in which
someone is being clearly overwhelmed. We go there, wear ourselves out, get
stressed out and find ourselves exposed to defend the "poor one". We
get deeply angry at the oppressor, promise to never look at the asshole's face
again and when you start to calm yourself down, thinking that at least , your
good deed for the day is done, then you see oppressed and oppressor laughing
together, happily. “What about me?” you ask indignantly. You are just the
one who went postal for nothing. Err... Does this only happen to me?
When you decide to play the defender-of-weak-and-oppressed without
anyone asking, you may not end up being the hero of the story. Instead, you
are just the jerk who is labeled "Joe Bloggs" people who are fully
capable of defending themselves and just don't do it because they do not want
to (or because they have another way of dealing with the situation, or they are
simply waiting for the right moment to pounce).
People are not as fragile as they seem to be and when you stand up for
someone who is not in need, you are judging yourself better, stronger and more
important than this person. That means: it is just your ego acting once
again. This has nothing to do with generosity, we must admit.
Besides this whole thing being highly addictive, it is very difficult to
perceive. Because no one will dare to warn you, be sure of that. This
is something you have to figure out and find a way to work on it on your
own. Having identified this flaw (which is not always genetic), the first
step to get out of this situation is to accept the fact that you are powerless
when it comes to other people’s issues. There is nothing you can do to
make the oppressed ones feel better. It is quite on the contrary
actually. But what is the next step? How to keep calm in the face of
tremendous injustice to someone! We can only join a support group to help ourselves. As
this group has not yet been established, I only see one solution: get away from
it! Stand down!
Okay, you can protect elders, children and pets. But for all of
other situations involving "species at risk", I suggest an exercise in self-control, one day
at a time. Things work out on their own. You do not need to share
your opinion on everything, make a statement on all matters or interfere with
anyone. Whenever somebody does something you do not agree with, leave the
room. Give the oppressed one the opportunity of self-defense and if he or
she does nothing about it, wait until someone else stands up for the cause.
Experience, for once, the sweet taste of not being involved in
confusion. You will see that everything will fall into the right place and
you will not need to clash with anyone. It is ridiculously liberating. You
should give it a try.
Sexism is the New Racism
He was a friend of a friend. We
had met at a few parties and when it came to my
attention, we were up all night caught in pleasant chatting featuring virtual
toasts with real beer! Lots of pub philosophy in bed (each in their own) and
laughter. Soon, we were texting, then it evolved to phone
calls (wow!) and then to accepting a dinner invitation which was
just a matter of time.
You know that person who is full of experience? So
many trips, experiences and interesting stories to tell, I never imagined that
he would snatch defeat in the jaws of victory with such a raw comment. Force
of habit? Traces of a fundamentally sexist creation? Just
an innocent slip, just kidding? I don't know. All
I know is that when I heard him saying "Don't you tell me you wash, iron
and you are good at cooking. You will be the perfect woman. Then
I'll marry you! " It was like there was this "BUZZZZ!"
ringing inside of me, talent show style. "WRONG
ANSWER". There was no way'. Although
the remark came with the best of intentions, it was an instantaneous turn off
for me. Hearing something like that from an intelligent,
thoughtful and handsome grown man was a total disappointment. He
meant that I was "marriage material", considering that this was a
super compliment, but that commonplace comment made me lose my interest.
I cannot say for sure what discouraged me the
most: if it was the "then I'll marry you" or if it was the thing of
wanting a perfect housewife to call his own. I'm
not against marriage, but "Free the bride!" – by Simone de Beauvoir -
echoed in my mind at that moment. Without swallowing my pride but as gently as
possible, I tried to explain to him how much that comment had let me down and
gave him my reasons. My overreaction may have come from a sum of several
factors: a small trauma from an 'almost-marriage', influence of my past
readings of Regina Navarro, a good deal of intolerance or all of that mixed
together. The thing is, from that moment on, the conversation
- which had been fantastic for a few weeks - turned into endless sexist
discussions sexist (he insisted on justifying himself saying that "man
this", "woman that") exterminating any resemblance of horniness (mutually, I guess). We
let it go. Not the chat but the thrill. I
wish we had used our time to talk about sex, or even to do it without major
philosophical clashes.
I remembered this story because I read that
for the first time in Brazil, someone had been granted with the right of
paternity leave of 6 months. Unfortunately, it was an isolated case and it was
only possible because the child's mother had died. Still,
I was very happy with the news. I think that the future win of that right is the
beginning of a true revolution in the quest for equal rights for men and women
in Brazil.
We still confuse the maternal instinct with
an obligation to care for the offspring on our own. I
think this "skill" that women have with kids comes from pure
necessity. Who said we are more acquainted with poo? This
is something learned with time as well as wielding a drill and making a hole in
the wall is also a matter of practice. I imagine an alternate leave (the first 3 months
for the mother, the other 3 to the father) would grant more contact between
father and son and, in addition, it would
finally put women and men on an equal footing, both in the work market, and in
the division of household chores. This already happens in a similar way in some
European countries, such as Sweden and Germany. Take
a look at it. It would be the rise of a new generation of more
present parents and therefore, more participant husbands. Only
on these terms would I consider the term "marriage material" as a
compliment What do you think about this?
Don’t abuse the snooze
Have you ever wondered why you extend sleep and postpone life in
infinite loops?
It's midnight and she is wearing the same
clothes she had on in the morning. Lying by her side, her faithful companion, the
always on and available laptop computer. She
thinks about work, talks to someone on Facebook chat, thousands of other
windows open at the same time. The door, closed. After
going up and down the timeline frantically, she realizes that she is reviewing
posts continuously and gives up. She hits the shower.
She'll only have a few hours of dreamless
sleep, 7 or 8 snoozes on a cell phone that tries in vain to wake her up and a
big fat 'no' echoing in her mind, until an "okay, then" pushes her
slowly out of bed and drags her to the next shower. After that the choice of
clothing, coffee, some vitamin pills, makeup in the car, trying to change the
way every day to have the feeling that she is doing something different. Same
songs trying to bring some excitement and nothing new on the way to post on
Instagram and make life seem more interesting.
Good morning to the valet. Good
morning to the receptionist. Good afternoon to the boss, because even though
it's still morning, according to the manual of good corporate etiquette that's
what you say when you arrive after the "big boss". Then
many work hours will go on until she sees herself again with the same outfit
she had on in the morning, in bed, next to the laptop to piss someone off. It’s
just a matter of hours until she’s hitting the snooze button again.
If you relate to the sad routine of the nap
girl or have ever gone through a similar phase, you know what it is like. Sometimes
it seems that we press the snooze button in life. Leaving
this state requires a deep willingness to say "okay, then", even if you are grumpy and crawl
toward the light to come back to loving it. So, I created the Snooze Index of
Love to Life. If you are putting off waking up a lot, something
needs to be done: taking up a sport, dancing, meditating, traveling, a new job,
a new love, anything that gives you joy. That
little nap to keep on dreaming a good dream once in a while, besides being
welcome, is extremely important, but we cannot leave life for later. Time
is short. Wake up. Just live.
