Yesterday, I was thinking how hard it must be to be a woman; it seems like women are always competing with each other.
Who
has the better car? Who has the better man? Who had the better birthday
party? Who had the better holiday? Who has better clothes? Who has a
smaller waist? Who visited Dubai first? Who has lost more weight? Who
can rock higher heels? Who takes her kids to better schools?
Who, who, who, who…? My word, it must be exhausting!
This
wouldn’t be such a problem if it didn’t spill over to their men. But
when they compare other relationships with their own, and that drives us
up the wall!
They’ll look around (on Facebook, mostly) and judge their own relationship based on the racket they have seen online.
Or
when they go for those girls’ night things and hear loads of fictitious
garbage that some little liar was bandying about her awesome
relationship.
I mean, if a man went
out with his friends and one of them talked about how his woman washes
his feet every evening when he comes home from work, this wouldn’t make
us question our own relationships.
In fact, we may ask casually, “Kwani you got a Banyankole now?” then ask who has a lighter.
RAW DEAL
Not
women. A woman will come back from that girls’ night out, drunk and
depressed because she is apparently getting a raw deal. Her girl Stella
went on for an hour about how her relationship is just the best.
“Do
you know what John did for Stella on her birthday?” she will ask
casually as she removes her numerous bracelets. “Who is John?” you will
ask.
She will sigh. “John is
Stella’s boyfriend!” “I thought her boyfriend was called Max?” “Well,
they broke up, now she is dating John. I thought I mentioned it!”
“Wasn’t she dating Max like only two weeks ago?” “Yes, but he was a
complete moron and he got dumped, and she moved on!” “She moved on in a
week’s time?
Jesus, she just can’t
catch her breath, can she, that pal of yours?” Then she will ignore you
and walk out to take a shower. She will be back as you are drifting off
to sleep. “So do you know what John did for her on her birthday?” “No,”
you will mumble, wondering if you should hold your breath.
Apparently
she was flown to Malindi, booked into a sexy boutique hotel, roses on
the bed, champagne and all that stuff that they love. You will curse
John silently for not allowing you to have your sleep.
Then
she will talk about this birthday treat for a few more days with you
saying nonchalantly, “how romantic”, and after a while she will realise
you are not getting her hint.
Then
she will throw a slightly sarcastic statement like, “Some of us can only
dream of that.” And you will laugh loudly because it is funny. “But you
said you loved your birthday!” you will note, chuckling.
“Yes, but I would have loved to be taken to Malindi!” “I took you to Mombasa two months ago!” “Well, it wasn’t my birthday!”
Because
some conversations don’t end well, you will roll over and sleep and
dream of a big palm tree falling on John’s leg and him screaming for
help as you casually eat a coconut next to him.
I’m
almost sure that when women sit together they exaggerate things about
their relationships. They either glorify their men a bit too much or
they over-demonise them.
FANTASY WORLD
It’s
all make-belief, depending on the agenda. There are relationships you
know are completely cuckoo but if you go on the woman’s Facebook profile
you will see how she glorifies her happiness and this guy who everybody
knows treats her like lost luggage.
Then
those women who believe everything they see online will look at their
lives, compare it with what they see out there and wonder where they
went wrong.
There are guys who take
their women to Malindi then there are guys who can’t afford it. There
are men who don’t send flowers but will drive in the rain to come get
you from wherever you are. There are men who aren’t creative when it
comes to gifting but who are your greatest cheerleaders, supportive and
all. There are men who are very good for a month then are bad for the
next three months, then there are men who are moderately good every
month.
No comments :
Post a Comment