What is going on? A post from whyimbitter? WHAT?! She still exists? What is happening here?!
My dear readers, I have been happy lately. I know some of you may need a minute to breathe after that sentence, but I must push on. It is well past my bedtime now, and I have to get the anger out before I hit the sack.
These days I have a job I actually enjoy, excel at and am challenged by enough to be happy. I am not in collections anymore and the change has been wonderful for my mental health. I haven’t been on meds in about six months and I’m doing really well.
And the key ingredient in the life makeover: the new relationship. Or not so new, given it’s six months for us next Saturday. Who knew that being with someone who treats you well, loves you, and isn’t a total douchebag would be so wonderful? And why didn’t they tell me if they knew so much?
So, what on Earth could possibly be making me bitter these days, with so much happiness and fairies and unicorns and rainbows in my life? The not quite ex wife is the million dollar answer on that one.
Following on from my Nice Guy posts, here are some people who write better than I do:
tigtog dealt with it nicely at Finally, A Feminism 101 Blog in Frequently Whimpered Whines: The Nice Guys™ theme song
There’s a collection of awesome at Heartless Bitches
A comic here
Can anyone guess what I’ve spent all day at work doing?
These final two scenarios are long and tied up together, so I’m making them a separate post to the first one. It’s not just because I like extra hits on my blog, I swear
Nice Guy Scenario 3; Douchebag. Not a very original nickname, granted, but I find it appropriate. And in this situation, more than in any of the others, I should have known better. I really really should have. But that’s ok, live and learn, onwards and upwards, blah blah etc etc.
A Nice Guy infestation is spreading through my life like a zombie outbreak. Only nowhere near as cool. I wish I was in a zombie apocalypse and could smash heads in with sledgehammers. That would be way cool, especially compared to … this. I have four examples for you, dear readers, just from the last couple of weeks of my life. (And on a sidenote, aren’t you all lucky I chose to stop wasting my time with these dickwads, and start blogging again? Much better use of this precious resource, I think).
My cousin (we’ll call her S) is breaking my heart. She is twenty four and has a lot going for her. Except for her dickhead boyfriend. He is not something good in her life and it hurts when I think of the situation she’s currently in.
I recently found out that he has previously cheated on her four times. That’s with four different people for those wanting the clarification. After this revelation (and it’s kinda telling that she hid this from us), she found out he had a mobile phone that he was hiding from her and, when she found it, he spent a long time trying to delete as many messages as he could before she saw them. He’s slept with at least two more women (as well as the other four) and has stopped short off sleeping with others. When all of this came to light, she dumped him. She didn’t kick him out of her house, or even our of her bed, but they were apparently broken up. And he was saying things like “I have nothing to live for without you” and “At work today I was on the 42nd floor and realised how easy it would be to unclip my harness”. Given past events, his comments are way out of line and unacceptable. I would dump him for that part alone. He also told her that the only reason they’re not together anymore is because she won’t forgive him.**
When you are looking after your kids, you are NOT baby sitting til your partner gets home. THEY ARE YOUR KIDS. Baby sitting is an activity engaged in by people who are not the primary caregivers.
No, seriously, listen to me. If you are watching the kids and you see yourself as baby sitting, you have a BIG issue that needs to be solved. As their father you should be one of the primary caregivers. And you should see yourself that way. And looking after them? Shouldn’t be a temporary thing to give their mum a break, or time to do errands, or whatever other reason you have.
So, no more. You are not baby sitters. You are parents.
PS. I hate adding these damn things, but I seem to have a lot of anti feminists over here these days, so here goes:
If you’re a father that doesn’t see looking after the kids as baby sitting, this post is not directed at you. Do not take offence, do not send me emails, I don’t care.
If you’re a person who has heard mothers use the same phrase and are about to get up in arms about this post being directed at fathers only, go start your own damn blog and direct something at those mothers. This post (like 90% of the blog) is inspired by my personal experience and this is what I wanted to say. And mothers cop enough shit off everyone to not get it in my space.
In some of my recent researching, I’ve stumbled across www.thefrisky.com and absolutely love it. Not every single article is perfect, or stands up to feminist scrutiny, however overall it’s pretty damn awesome.
Now, I know it’s usually considered bad form to respond to a poster on a different site, but given the vile contents of these comments, I’m doing it anyway.
On a post about alternatives to intercourse, ‘Bat Leaper’ came out of the murky swamp where all mras and trolls like to spend their days and had this to say:
Well after the events in this post, I was left confused. I tried calling him on Monday morning and he was busy, so we left it.
I sent him a message telling him to let me know when a good time to call would be and he replied to say sounds good. Twice that day I made suggestions for a next time to see him and got no reply. By Tuesday night, 24 hours after the second and final suggestion, I decided that even if he wasn’t done with this*, I was. Way too much effort, not enough of a payoff, and to be honest, I don’t particularly like him all that much.