At my age, 41, I have seen a lot.A great number of it more than once.
Sometimes that's a good thing. I will never tire of watching sunsets and soft serve ice creams being dipped into chocolate and Han Solo being a rascal in The Empire Strikes Back.
Then there are those other things that are unwelcome repeats.
I have been consciously donating money to children less fortunate than myself since I was 7. Surely 34 years on we have sorted that out? But no.
It's cool being over 40. I feel at ease. I know myself fairly well, I feel I have done stuff and I know stuff. I am a woman of substance, and if you are anywhere near my age, you are too.
But age, my darlings, does not mean jack shit when you insist, as some of my sisters do, in reverting to becoming a bubble headed portable snatch when it comes to men.
Age really is 'just a number' when you dumb yourself down to other women because you don't wish to be perceived as 'a threat'.
Years of experience pale into shadow when you stand there flapping your hands at the most obvious problems because taking a stand and taking control might appear to be too ' dominating' or 'intimidating' or 'masculine' or 'scary' to everyone else.
An idiot once said to me " better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than to ask questions confirm it". What a retard. With all due respect to retarded people who would no doubt be insulted to have this man compared to them. That man- lets call him Jim ( although that's not his name but it's close enough) makes retarded people look bad.The concept of 'shutting up and playing dumb' as a lifestyle choice has to be considered one of the all time lows of human evolution.
But it happens.
And it happens all the time.
And I have to say, it happens to women 500,000 times more often than it happens to men.
Last week, I was working in a large middle class area in Hong Kong known for it's clean outdoor lifestyle, it's birth rate, it's drunken middle aged white population, and its key parties. I am certain you can see the links. Those of you from HK can no doubt guess where I am talking about.
Anyhoo. I was waiting for a bus. It was a pleasant night.
Beside me sat two women with babies in push chairs. As they were speaking in English I could not help but overhear.
" That's a lovely necklace"
"Thanks, yes, I don't often wear it this late in the year, It's more my summer jewelry, but it's still so warm I thought I could get away with it"
(Wendy now turns to look at this so called 'Summer Jewelry'. she observes a gold chain and pendant that COULD be considered summery.....she thinks........)
" Oh, yes, I think it's still warm enough to wear Summer Jewelry"
(Wendy now makes mental note to inspect her own jewelry to check she has not been wearing earrings out of season.)
"I saw your Paul the other day, he's got a little grey on his temples"
"Yes, he does, and a small patch on the back of his head, it's quite bizarre"
" I know what you mean, Jasper's got a small amount of grey at the top of his head, and a small amount of grey on the left side of his chest, just under his nipple- it's TOTALLY crazy"
( Wendy starts to feel as if she has entered the twilight zone)
"I told Paul about the grey patch on the back of his head and he said he hadn't noticed, how insane is that?"
" Men are so silly aren't they?"
"by the way, did Lily sew your stroller blanket?"
"Yes, how did you know, did she do yours too?"
"yes, but with mine she was able to sew it so that you can't see the seam, see, the pattern on my fabric repeats, whereas your doesn't"
"Oh yes, you're right, but it's because my fabric has Elephants and Giraffes, so the pattern is less consistent, your one has flowers so it's easier....."
I had to push my fingers into my ears to stop the blood from squirting out.
It was chronic. I know it's only small talk- excellent term btw- but imagine if that was ALL you EVER did.
For these women I suspect it is.
I know, I've been there. I turned to drugs.
Playing dumb is not just for housewives either.
I know of a woman who is soooooooo enamored of a talented but broken man, that she allows him to pretend she doesn't exist publicly whilst bonking her privately. She plays along in spite of her education, talent and beauty.
She could have anyone, but because this man wants to maintain some sort of independent image to the rest of the world she is a carefully guarded secret. Like having Herpes but shagging sans condom.
Of course eventually the truth will out, but perhaps not until she has become a little broken herself. This one is young, so I forgive her. One only hopes that if her plans and dreams all come to nothing, she will be able to forgive herself.
He is my age. She has my permission not to forgive him.
Over the years I talked at some length with hundreds of woman of substance about the proliferation of middle aged men wearing the latest seasons 20 somethings as accessories.
Unfortunately it starts to sound like sour grapes.
Perhaps.
But so fucking what? It isn't always. Sometimes it's the incredulity at the men and the equal incredulity at the women that makes it open for discussion.
As someone who is not prepared to limit myself to small words and lengthy silences to please a male I find it breath taking when I meet woman who will.
For what girls? For a PENIS????
How long can you smash at a glass ceiling with one of those things before giving up and going to lunch?
There is a woman of substance in my circle with a highly technical, senior management style job. Very much the sharp end of the stick.
And yet the minute a man enters the room she forgets how to open an envelope.
He could have his knuckles trawling the floor and breath that would kill a seal, and yet his presence alone means she can no longer perform simple maths.
"Oh I don't know how much the bill is, lets see, there are 3 of us and it's 300 dollars, you work it out Roderick, you have a hairy chest".
This woman is hot. Seriously hot.
And rich, and smart, and funny.
I like boys in bed and I'd do her.
Guys will do her too, but the only ones she seems to want are the ones who see past all her amazing qualities and are looking straight into her pants to see if childbirth has made her kitten parts stretchy.
"Stop looking at my substance, and treat me like I am nothing" She seems to say.
And they do.
Surprise, surprise, surprise.
I started this by saying I have seen things more than once.
I am putting out a call.
My sisters.
Stop this pattern of behaviour now.
You are worthy.
You have value.
You are worth more.
And the world will still like you even if you speak your mind, take a stand and have values and standards you wish to uphold.
It's OK to be smart.
It's OK to be you.
Men are OK with you being you too, at least, the good ones are.
I'm too old to get angry about this issue anymore, and my frustration is now directed at the women who perpetuate the myth rather than the men whom I used to accuse of creating it.
If women continue to treat themselves as objects then how can we accuse men of doing anything other than copying our example?
We have been through the period of the Female eunuch, we have tried emasculating men- to the point where THEY don't know who they are anymore either- now it's time to get back to nature and let the men have the dangly bits and the ability to fight mammoths without the need for a group hug and some counselling and for the woman to get on and do what they do best, which is pretty much everything else.
Ignorance is not bliss. Bliss is Bliss. Ignorance- even pretendy ignorance- is still just ignorance.
