But this article just makes it sound unbelievably depressingReally? I thought it boiled down to: I happy with who and where I am and I don't want to change because I'm having fun.
But this article just makes it sound unbelievably depressing
There's a metric but-load of clichés and stereotypes of men buried in that post.
"You will never marry again, Lady Narborough," broke in Lord Henry. "You were far too happy. When a woman marries again, it is because she detested her first husband. When a man marries again, it is because he adored his first wife. Women try their luck; men risk theirs."
it would take a one in 10 million woman to make me want a new relationship... and I'm not a one in 10 million man.
I no longer have a Metafilter account. but I still skim the site sometimes, and I just read your post from today.
Before I say what I thought, I have to admit that I am long-term single: ten years, in fact, besides a dalliance (informal, long-distance, with a married man) more than six years ago. I haven't had sex in almost two years. This obviously colours my response.
I can't help but feel that the author's experience is so foreign to most commenters that they can't fathom it. What other explanation can there be for such a glaring lack of sympathy, empathy? For the disrespect of this woman's view of her own experiences and circumstances? How lucky they all must be, to have been so loved all their lives to never have reflected the way this woman is. I accept that most of society does not live the way I have, and that most adults are coupled, so this makes sense.
But I found it upsetting how people laid into the author. This is a perfect example of why I no longer participate on the site. In that thread, I see a raft -- a majority -- of commenters who have shut off their critical faculties entirely. Not that they can't criticize -- they can, quite clearly. That's *all some of them deign to do on the site*. But the process of evaluation and reflection and immersion that's required to relate to other people's experiences and viewpoints has been completely lost.
(And: am I the only person who's observed that this woman is older than the average Mefite? That a woman who came of age in the 50s or 60s will have vastly different experiences and relationships with men of their generation than women coming of age now or in the recent past? That the society she came up in has changed significantly in those decades? Nonetheless, the third comment is a knee-jerk accusation of sexism, and many more follow.)
Again, my response to this thread in particular is coloured by my own romantic life, and, undoubtedly, so it is by my opinion of Mefi culture. But I wanted to give you my feedback. I'm not convinced based on her article that she's 100% sold on her own rhetoric. I think to some small extent she may have mixed feelings. Or I could just be projecting. But there aren't enough people expressing these feelings -- talking about loneliness, for example, is even more taboo than most sex-related subjects these days. Tell someone you're lonely and just watch their skin crawl with discomfort. But it's something single people deal with head-on. So I'm glad you cared what she thinks -- what one single person experiences. Thanks for posting it.
People ask me why I'm still alone, and why I don't seek to date much, eight years after my husband died. I thought about it the other day, and came up with a few of the reasons.
Here's a random guy's perspective:My first reaction was: "I'm offended! How can this woman (and so many others) feel that men are so undesireable?" In the author's world, men's most notable characteristics are their "strange sounds and smells." The article felt like the final blow in the long history of misandry. I thought: "This is just thinly-veiled male bashing."
Then I calmed down, and tried to see her point of view. I saw the article as an expression of pain. I heard her grief over the loss of her husband (read: anger over abandonment). And I heard her pain over the loss of her former status as a guy magnet, who had all the power and called all the shots. You have to feel compassion for someone who finds men less desireable than salsa and a box of crackers. Like a previous poster said, it really is sad when a woman allows such natural events to deprive her of the benefits of romantic relationships. No more waking up next to a beloved partner, no more sexual expression in a secure, warm, mutually loving relationship. No more getting to express her powerful feminine sexuality in the arms of a man who really loves her. It feels like a stunted life, a capitulation to ego.
I would LOVE all those things at the end of your comment. I just am waiting for Mr. Right Enough, not Mr. Wrong. And so far, since I haven't found him, I'm making the most of my solitude. I'm not bashing males. I just wish more quality males were interested. I have tried dating. Many, alas, stereotype "older women" as not even worth considering. And so, I react. The fact is, I love good men and appreciate, and am quite good at, a good relationship. But my life is not "stunted." That's the stereotype from people who believe living alone can't be pleasant. Yes, I think a great relationship may be best of all. And I'm holding out for at least a very good one.
we seem to laugh more than our married friends and we even look happier, even if we aren't, but I suspect we might be, at least more so than many.
I'm independent and outspoken and most men don't much care for women who debate them and who don't hope to get married and cook for them.
I don't want to be a nurse for the men who still run after me, who can't even run.
I won't go out and beat the bushes for some nice-enough fellow who belches so loud I jump and doesn't listen and who doesn't make me smile enough to put up with strange noises and indifference.
...my Aunt Hilda drove a pink Caddy with fins and carried a pistol and had blonde hair. She lived alone after my Uncle Arty died. She ate out at the Jaeger House in Yorkville and the waiter knew she liked Pinch neat and a veal chop, and she traveled by herself to Bermuda and it all seemed so glamorous.
I find myself sitting in front of the computer, and three hours later I look up and the sun is down and it's too late to ask someone to go out to dinner, so I spread some cream cheese and mild salsa on wheat crackers and watch Olbermann.
I can watch movies at home and don't have to drive to the Multiplex anymore, which I hated to do alone.
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