it doesn't seem fair. now, i hope i'm not "betraying the sisterhood" or setting back the feminist movement's efforts or anything (david...remember what i said about tainting. DON'T), but there is at least one arena in which women receive preferential treatment. ready...?
...in the world of the "romantic" (as usual, the quotes are not accidental. my, my, my, SOMEONE is feeling cynical again today!) more specifically, heartbreak.
you see, when a woman gets her heart broken...wait...when a woman's heart breaks (let us not assume to know who or what is responsible here. stay calm), she gets to wade and slog her way through a whole spectrum of emotional gack.
a woman gets to indulge in sadness. she gets to cry, and not just cry, but WAIL and sob and HUC-HUC-HUC as her breath hitches in her chest because she just cannot get enough oxygen in. she is suffocating from the amount of sadness compressing her lungs. nobody judges her for this, in fact, people gather around her and hold her gently and support her suddenly infant-heavy head and ease her back and forth and tell her, "shhhhh...shhhhh...it's going to be okay" until it IS okay.
a woman has at her disposal myriad responses, all appropriate, all which will illicit sympathy, and all carry the potential of a ring of sisters, female friends, and "female friends" (and by that i mean gay, male sistahs), each waiting to nod and scowl and purse lips and say, "mmm'hmm. i KNEW he was not good enough for you, gurrrrrl." there is solidarity in their schadenfreude, and even as they click their tongues in disapproval, she lets go of her grip on the poison swirling in her chest and the sadness becomes anger. of COURSE he's not good enough for her.
a woman gets to enjoy the movie montage of self-reinvention. the soundtrack will probably be chaka khan or gloria gaynor sheryl-fucking-crow or something equally grotesque. she gets to "rediscover" how amazing she is by launching into an exercise regimen or creating some kind of new physical appearance via clothes or makeup or a drastic haircut. this is part faux "phoenix rising from the ashes" crap and part "just LOOK what he lost!! tsk! tsk!" again, nobody judges her for this. in fact, they gather around her and congratulate her on "how brave" she is being and "how strong" she is. they even tell her how beautiful she looks, and how "he'll regret it someday." the whole world applauds her efforts to move and on and cheers when she finds someone new...all of which she deserves. i am certainly not begrudging the emotionally destroyed this plastic surgery for the soul.
however...
what about a man? a man does not get a forest of arms to hold him up or caress his aching head lovingly. he does not get to bleed the sadness out of his lungs, and heaven forbid he have the need to cry. there are not enough high-fives in the world to redeem the "dude points" he would lose. a man does not get an army of ferocious support to turn the sadness to rage. the best he gets is a friend slapping him on the back and saying, "that chick was SUCH a bitch, dude!" a man does not get to go out and conjure up a new image that will "make her jussssssst DIE with jealousy" when she sees him. raised eyebrows ensue. in fact, most men don't even allow themselves to feel the heartbreak. if they do, they wouldn't DARE let anyone know.
and don't even get me STARTED on the way the world perceives the man who moves on and finds someone else.
today's word of the day is dacryagogue
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