When Choice is a Killer

I’ve had some lovely quality time to myself for almost a week which has meant that I have got to watch more daytime crap than I have in a long time. Jeremy Kyle, Ricky Lake, This Morning, Oprah, Montell and Judge Judy have all had a bit of my time over the past few days and there is something rather riveting about chavs (UK word for trailer trash in Burberry) making a holy show out of themselves on TV. I was particularly drawn to a Montell episode about women who had been involved with killers and I did a double take when the topic appeared on screen.

Killers? What the hell is someone doing being involved with a killer? And I’m not talking about women meeting a guy in prison through being a pen pal and deciding to be a prison bird. I’m talking about women meeting guys that are killers, and being with them either knowingly or unknowingly, but allowing the relationship once having the knowledge to continue and grow. Jeez, haven’t we got enough to contend with Mr Unavailable’s, Bad Boys, wife beaters etc? I actually laughed several times over the next hour as it became very clear that sometimes my own species is certainly not too clever, nor too bright.

One woman in particular met her boyfriend when he was in the process of being prosecuted for killing a woman. He told her about it from the outset (yes he didn’t hide it), made up some BS story about why he shouldn’t be convicted, but didn’t actually deny doing it, and despite this knowledge she stayed with him. Huh? It was only when he put her OWN life in danger when she suddenly thought, hmmm, this may not be a good idea after all….
What is it that a man needs to say to us for us to decide that he is not worthy of our time? If a man telling us that he is a killer isn’t good enough, then what the hell is?

I have to admit that this particular woman was just plain stupid and I still don’t even think she realises how reckless and odd her behaviour was, but I did feel sorry for the other women as they had no idea that their guys were criminals and were a victim of their crimes too. To be fair, I don’t think many of us are involved with killers or potential ones (at least I hope not), and these women on the show were exceptions not the norm, but it does beg the point, where do we draw the line? As women, in the name of love, is there even a line to be drawn? Of course there bloody should be!

And our failure to draw a line shows something even more worrying about society today: Are we so desperate to be part of a couple on Noah’s Relationship Ark that we will accept anything that is thrown in our direction rather than be on our own? Are we so hell bent on believing in potential, believing that we can fix things, that we can’t see the wood for the trees?

Because you see, this whole ‘I can fix him’ syndrome that a lot of women have going on could actually be the death of us. Literally. I get really worried when I see how willing people can be to adjust their yardsticks of acceptance to accommodate the strangest of things and I think that we forget that we should have some fatal flaws that we aren’t prepared to put up with no matter what we think we may feel for somebody. The failure to draw a line in acceptable behaviour can be as simple as not knowing when to stop flogging a dead horse when you’re dating a man that is clearly unavailable, to sticking with a guy despite the fact that he has screwed behind your back repeatedly and shows no signs of stopping any time soon.

I felt really sad for these women because those choices that they made will stick with them for the rest of their days, but they’re also lucky that they didn’t get killed off themselves. Obviously I credit most women with a hell of a lot more intelligence, so stay smart ladies and when it looks dodgy, acts dodgy, smells dodgy, and maybe even tells you they’re dodgy, tell them to bog off and run like your life depends on it. It just might!

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

On Dating

What is dating? Why do people date? How does one date? This week’s column was inspired by a conversation that I had on Saturday with a straight male friend. He’s recently divorced and is ready to get back into the dating game. He got married in his early twenties to his high school sweetheart with whom he reunited after a few years break during which he dated a few other women. His entire dating history includes approximately six women with whom he had varying lengths of relationships. He stated that he doesn’t know how to date, and my response was, “Well, who does?”

Read more

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Do guys care how many people you?ve slept with?

That would be a resounding yes. Call it ego, the other 25% that makes up men’s body’s after water, but most guys seem to have some level of discomfort about how many people their partner has slept with because they like to think they are the only one you’ve had, and failing that, the biggest and the best you’ve had. Due to our fear of repercussions and looking less like the virgin Mary to our beloved’s, most woman have some level of discomfort about saying exactly how many people they have slept with, which means that they’ll undercount to a number that suits their partners ears. Never fear ladies, he has probably inflated his number a little….

The guy likes to feel that you are ‘his’ as it is macho instinct which is ingrained into the male wiring. Now he can do two things with this instinct, which is to act on it and be an asshole with high expectations that his woman should either be a virgin or have slept with very few people. Or, he can have this instinct but keep it in check because in the real world, short of meeting a woman at 18, there tends to be a level of sexual history that has been gathered.

Where the double standard kicks in though, is that often a guy has racked up some big digits with sexual partners, but STILL thinks that his women should be holier than thou.

My take: Personally I don’t think that you should be discussing how many people you’ve slept with, because quite frankly, no matter what number either of you say beyond zero, or one, one or both of you won’t take the answers well. If you have had previous sexual partners, you should both be discussing things from a safe sex point of view (i.e. When were either of you last tested?) but I fail to see what knowing the ‘Magic Number’ is going to do for either one of you.

I think people have a tendency to fall into the honesty diarrhoea zone with relationships, where people think that being in a relationship means that you should spill the beans on every little iota of your life, and do it whilst you’re sitting on the toilet doing a #2 with the door open. Give me a break! You don’t have less of a relationship by not knowing exactly how many people your partner has slept with and I say ‘exactly’ because you can put two and two together and get four. You do find out through conversations when your partner lost their virginity and the exes that they have, so you can do the math without plugging their fingers into a lie detector and demanding answers.

Failing all of this, he who asks first, spills first. ‘Dems be the rules!

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Kissing School: The Do’s & Don’t’s

I was surfing through blogs the other day and read about someone’s sloppy kissing experience and immediately had flashbacks to some of my awful experiences, of which almost all of them are from more than five years ago, thank goodness! My worst kissing experience was about eight years ago when a friend of mine pulled a bloke and I ended up being left alone with his mate by default. I wasn’t remotely interested and when he eventually appeared to give in and say goodbye, he tried to go for the kill and snog me. As he breathed on me and shoved his tongue in, in about two seconds flat, I got a weird taste and pushed him off me and said goodbye very quickly. What was wrong? He tasted as if he had gone down south earlier…..

Read more

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Friday Humour:10 Things That Will Scare Away a Guy

If you ever want to scare a date away, these are the things that should have him running for the hills.
1. Turn up to a date with your overnight ‘suitcase’ with enough stuff to last you a month.
2. Don’t bother with the trying to impress him. Have the hair all jacked up and a tracksuit that’s seen better days.
3. Tell him that you know that you’ve only heavy petted but you’re CONVINCED you’re pregnant and that he’d better step up to his responsibilities.

4. Tell him you’re a chick with a dick.
5. Refuse to go on dates alone and bring a friend, or even worse, your mum or dad.
6. Answer the door in a wedding dress.
7. Get a big beefy guy to turn up when you’re on the date and say that he’s your boyfriend.
8. Talk about your ex all night and keep bursting into tears.
9. Take out your lipstick and after putting it on your lips, make slashing marks at your face like a mad woman with the lipstick.
10. Hand him all of your household bills and tell him that as your date, you expect them all to be paid within 24 hours.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Style Tips for Guys Going on Dates: Scent of a Man

I’ve been asked several times recently to advise on the do’s and don’ts of style for men who are trying to woo the ladies. This is the first, and it focuses on smell. Guys pay attention, and for the ladies, you can always print this off and hand this to your man.
As someone who found myself on a date where the guy had more than a whiff of sweat, this is a subject rather close to my heart. I appreciate that you guys think that we like the smell of you, but there is natural body odour and then there is trying to choke the poor woman.

Wear fresh clothes. Don’t wear clothes that reek of food (yeuch) and go for the smell of freshly washed clothes. Stale chip fat, stale sweat (maybe you wore it before but didn’t wash it), stale milk, or stale anything for that matter, or just smelling like the meal you just ate (parmesan, curries) is not an attractive scent. Use fabric softener on your clothes and you’ll smell lovely and fresh.
Don’t bathe yourself in so much deodorant/aftershave that they can smell you from fifty paces away. I’m delighted that you want to smell good and that you’ve invested in some lovely aftershave, but I don’t want my eyes to water when you come near me. Spray lightly on yourself so that when the woman is close, she can smell you. Drowning yourself in cheap, renk stuff is just stupid and makes the recipient want to heave. Remember, first impressions can last.
Choose a smell that suits you and try not to do cheap. If you’re too cheap to smell good, you’re probably cheap elsewhere. Wear scents that smell good on you, not on everyone else. You don’t have to buy the most expensive aftershave, but road test your scent on a couple of women to see if you pass. Musky scents are good as they stir up our libidos. Floral is, well feminine… Don’t wear anything that smells ‘raw’ – the best way to describe it is that it smells like tangy raw egg. Sometimes our skin doesn’t work well with every scent.
Natural odour. I appreciate that some women get off on the smell of a little scent of sweat but we don’t want to drown in it. As a rule of thumb, if you can smell it without having to lift your arm, or people appear to step back from you when you approach, you smell. Not every woman will be like me and say something either, and if you can’t tell whether you do or you don’t smell good, you have issues. If you tend to develop wet spots from your sweat, don’t wear stuff more than once as it will smell ‘stale’ after a while.
Wash your willy. Just say no to cheesy willies. Ideally you shouldn’t be whipping it out on the first few dates, but if you do, make sure that it is sparkling clean, doesn’t reek of cheese or wee. You guys go on about how much you love your willies – well act like you care and wash the damn thing! Nuff said.
Ugh! Feet! If your feet can be smelt before you walk in the room, or even when you’re up close, something isn’t right. Give your feet, socks and the shoes you put them in some attention. If your shoe reeks because it got wet or something, change the insole, do whatever it takes, but get rid of the odour. Failing that, wear a pair of shoes that don’t smell. Wear clean socks and wear socks and shoes that don’t make you feet sweat so much. I dated a guy that when he took off his shoes, I actually swooned. Not good!
Breath. We’ve all gotta eat, but we don’t have to smell it off you. Brush your teeth and your tongue so that if anything is lingering on the tongue, you get rid of that too. Blow into your hand with it clasped around your face, or get a truthful woman to let you breathe in front of her. Carry mints or chewing gum. Steer clear of foods that repeat on you because you’ll be emitting stench with your baby burps.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

How do men cope with being dumped?

I know a lot of women that are of the school of thought that men don’t take it as hard when there’s been a break up, which harks back to the notion that women are far more emotional than men. Now in general we can assume this, but it has come to my attention that guys don’t cope that well with break ups; they just hide things better and don’t try to starve themselves or bloat up on Ben & Jerry’s.
Read more

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

I Run

I hurt someone. I didn’t mean to. I would never intentionally hurt someone that I cared about, but intention is such a fine line. I knew what I was doing. I knew the consequences of my actions. I did it anyway. I can’t control myself sometimes. I have to run. I’ve never not run, in one form or another, and my reasons span the spectrum of emotion and circumstance. We call ourselves commitment-phobes and laugh at the sisterhood, but how often do we really stop to wonder why? More importantly, when we end up alone, is it really gonna be that funny anymore?

When I was 13 I realised something. I will never have to be alone if I don’t want to. There will never be a time when someone does not want to be with me. I don’t say this with any self confidence or ego attached, it’s simply a fact. I think that’s one reason I feel okay with running away. I know that when I tire of running, someone else will be there to begin pursuit again. There’s no fear (yet) of having to run the remainder of the course solo. I run because I can.
The first “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative boy who played me for a fool and left me embittered and angry. The second “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative man who played me for a fool and left me more embittered and angrier. The third “love of my life” was an abusive, manipulative boy who took every shred of confidence and self respect I had left.

I run because I know better.
The first “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative boy who played me for a fool and left me embittered and angry. The second “love of my life” was a lying, manipulative man who played me for a fool and left me more embittered and angrier. The third “love of my life” was an abusive, manipulative boy who took every shred of confidence and self respect I had left.
Sometimes I run simply by my dating choices. I date men who live hundreds of miles away. I date men who are gone 4 days a week. I date men with a history of philandering and pandering. I try to make impossible situations work so that it looks like I’m standing still, but I’m not. I run even when you can’t see it.

I get a sick feeling in my stomach when my freedom is threatened. Not being able to go where I want, see who I want, do what I want, terrifies me. Having to check in makes me feel contained. Knowing someone else is affected by my actions makes me feel guilty. Being limited in any way makes my chest tighten and my head hurt. I have to be able to be the one who decides who, when and where. I run because that’s what wild things do.

There’s excitement in new romance. There’s a thrill in not knowing who you’ll meet or what will ensue. It’s a rush to walk into a room and know you have your pick of the litter. It’s comforting to know that if you find something better, even just temporarily, you can venture freely into new territory. I run in case there’s better terrain up the road.
There’s this man who loves me. He knows everything, judges nothing, and loves me completely. And he’s not alone. There have been and continue to be those who want nothing more that to love me with all they have. They want to give me the world. And that scares the living crap out of me. What if they figure out I’m not worth it? What if they realise how much more they deserve? What if they leave me and no one else ever loves me that way again? I run because I’m not sure I’m worth it.I run. And I’m wearing holes in the bottoms of my shoes.

Visit Tattoed Debutante’s Blog

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Agreed Upon Cheating - ‘The New Monogamy’

A NYC based magazine ‘The New Monogamy’ is promoting the premise that marriages are becoming more and more open and that agreed upon cheating will stop the marriage from flatlining and either party
straying any further.

“In this view, as long as each spouse “sluts around” (their words, not ours) within the boundaries deemed acceptable by both parties (rules range from just kissing to engaging in full-blown orgies), they aren’t actually cheating.”

Now we all know that cheating is quite a prevalent issue, and being monogamous for some is as foreign as telling the truth for them, so is this the way the modern marriage is headed?

Read more

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Breakdown Vs Break

My kids just finished reading “Echo and Narcissus: Why Can’t You Love Me?” for our Mythology unit. In a nutshell, both characters fall in love with someone who doesn’t love them in return and die as a result. I asked them, as a journal, who they thought got hurt worst in a breakup, the boy or the girl. I thought I knew the answer, but I’m starting to wonder.

Now, all erroneous details aside, assigning no blame, most people would say that the woman is hit harder because women are more emotional and invest more of themselves in relationships. We are the more fragile, docile sex, and therefore we are certainly more prone to emotional breakdowns and rampant mourning. Here’s the problem with that theory. We are allowed to be emotional while men are supposed to be stronger than tears. We can sit with our girlfriends and cry into our ice cream, and men are supposed to be at strip clubs feeling no pain. Women can break down, but maybe men just break.
We all know broken men. I know more than my fair share. Some of them were broken by someone else’s relationship, specifically one between their mother and father. That love was less than ideal, forever was proven a fairytale, and they have no desire to end up that way. I wasted almost two years of my life on a man who was so broken over the misery that was his parent’s marriage that he had become literally incapable of truly loving another human being.

Others (and I encounter these more and more) are broken by their own failed relationships. These are the saddest kind of men, though they will appear to the happiest. These are the men who live to excess, who change women the way others change socks (and treat them almost as well as people treat their socks). These men cannot stay faithful. These men cannot STAY period. They’re constantly running from anything and anyone who gets close enough to love them. The fear of being hurt again, being wrong again, keeps them from loving again. And on they blindly stumble through meaningless encounters and doomed relationships, while hurting countless women along the way. They may know they’re doing it, they may not, but I am not sure I believe they can stop.

Ladies, you cannot change this man. The only way for him to heal is to realise what he’s doing. The hours of crying will not do it. Treating him well will not do it. Pining away for him will not do it. You could go as far as to hire a witch doctor to concoct Love Potion #9, and it wouldn’t fix him. He’s gonna keep running, sleeping with random women, cheating on them with other random women, intentionally hurting the ones who love him most, and never understanding how much damage he’s doing until he decides he’s ready for something more. All your solutions are like band aids on a bullet wound. He’s got to pull the thing out himself, bury it in the backyard, and stitch his chest back up. Until then, don’t be angry with him, don’t be hard on yourself, just feel sorry for someone whose heart can’t work the way it’s supposed to. That’s got to be the hardest way to live, if you even call that living.
Visit Tattoed Debutante’s Blog

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Next Page »