I have been in gaga, mouth-breathing, stupid love with one and only one woman since a certain day in concert choir class at A_____ High School in 1975.
She is the strongest, most determined, alpha-type person I ever met, and the kindest, most thoughtful, most loving and beautiful and vulnerable of haloed angels most men have ever tried and failed to imagine.
Our eyes met first, in mid-song, across a choir room ringing with music. I knew. When the bell rang, I walked across to her, took both her little hands in mine, and stared into her eyes without speaking until the bell rang again. The boy who left for school that morning never went home again. Every minute since, I have been the man who loves her. Her: not the stunning face and figure, not the animation and intelligence, but the secret girl inside, the warrior woman and the crying child. My One, my Only, my Darling. I lost her.
We both had so many issues from so much baggage. My radical fundamentalist upbringing, her poverty and abuse, and all their roots and tangles. In the mid-80s I was still writing her desperately, but she drifted out of reach at last and disappeared. For twenty-five years I searched every airport for those eyes, every crowd, every street. I married, had kids, tried to love the emotional abuse and hatefulness, and finally failed that, too. For the century’s first decade, I waited to die. She found me on Facebook.
“You have a message from A___ F___,” was waiting in my inbox on a dreary 2010 January morning, in a grey world with no horizon, no hope, no sky, no moon. And as I read it, all the color and the music I had lost so long came roaring back.
I spent the next forty days getting thrown out of Hell on my ear, laughing out loud for the joy of my escape, with twenty dollars, a toothbrush, and the love of my life. I am still laughing.
Our thirteenth anniversary was earlier this week, and I have been falling more in love with her for every one of these sweet years. We have been through more than one hell together, and our love has grown strong, stronger than we ever knew strength of love could be. The memories of her that I treasured through all the hateful years apart were only the hint of a promise of the joy I know as her man.
I call myself her Rescue Husband, and her tiny finger touches my lips as she says, “I’m the lucky one.”
We are older now, and we will lose our battle with Time. But we fight to fill each precious minute. It is not how long we live, it is not how long we love: It’s how much.
I love men too- but I have always despised the whole damsel in distress trope. I’m afraid I’ve never wanted to be one. 🙃
I have worked in professions where I have been the only woman in the room. I adore the way (most) men are open and not backstabbers. I have and continue to have great friendships with men.
Meanwhile, my adult sons do open doors, walk women home to make sure they are safe, are perfect gentlemen. Even when their hearts are broken. They are woke, certainly. They, like you and I, despair of all the posturing that goes on.
I tend to think of HUMANS, rather than get tangled in the whole gender thing. Around here, things seem a bit different. Men certainly open doors for women - and women tend to return the favor. The proper response to having someone do something nice is, "Thank you." I load my car with 50 pound bags of animal feed all the time; once in a while a guy will see me carrying the bags to my car and insist on taking over, and I let him. Why not? If I refuse and insist on finishing it by myself, he would be hurt - by accepting his assistance, he gets to feel happy that he helped out a little old lady at the feed store.
Fixed gender roles are silly. One of my responsibilities is mucking out the donkey stall and chicken coop - my husband has a bad back, but I've inherited pretty solid bones and muscles (knock on wood!). One of my husband's responsibilities is cooking dinner - besides the fact that he's a better cook than I, I'm usually too busy before dinner helping his father.
That story you described sounds awful - why would a unicorn stab a poor little boy to death just because he's overweight? We should all just be nice to each other, helping when we're able, and gracefully accepting any help offered. There is no agenda to a door being held open by either a man or a woman - it's just a way of saying, "Hello," and a way to pump up the much needed kindness level in the world. I'm beginning to rant, now, too! 😅
Oh, I should’ve been more precise, it was a young man (a lord’s son) in that fairy tale. But the story is meant for kids, and either way a unciorn stabbing a young man to death and throwing his corpse aside is kinda scary in a kids’ fairy tale.
I totally get it. In my family everbody does everything they can to survive (with 4 kids you can’t have it any other way 😂). No seriously, whomever is available to do the job - whether cooking or cleaning, does it.
My country is a nation of strong women. From taking care of farm animals to running the government. Nobody questions if she would be good for the job because she’s a women. At the same time, you wouldn’t believe how classy the ladies from my country village dress up when going to the opera.
At the same time, our men are still masculine. Mostly.
The traditional gender roles have adjusted to modern times, it was inevitable. At the same time, I enjoy my hubby spoining me just because… I’m his lady.😉☺️🩶
Some of the best friendships I've ever had have been with men. They are so straightforward. My first novel contains mostly male characters. We all have our downsides. Fleetwood mac are my favourite band and I think something that makes their songs so wonderful has to be the complex relationships and experiences of men and women.
100% . We live in society where both sexes - all individuals - all families - all communities - are sacrificed to the needs of the civilizational overlords. They use sexism, racism, economics, and everything else as a tool of division to render us divided and conquered.
Celebrate our own and each other differences - they are those unalienable rights referred to the American Declaration of Independence from tyranny.
To win against tyranny we must accept our own strength and understand how other can also help us be strong.
No society ever became stronger under the divisive weakness the oligarchs support.
Great article. What really bothers me about this movement against the damsel in distress is the disregard for the character herself. She is often boiled down to "needing to be saved by a man" when she is much more complex than that; she wants excitement, adventure, and wonder and is willing to face danger to find it. She just doesn't want to find it alone, and there's nothing wrong with that.
We women are fucked. Now they must compete in sports with 6’ 5” men. When I married my husband I told him it was his job to keep me safe and he had to be willing to take a bullet for me. I do want a hero among men.
Great writing piece, Kathrine! I also love men and will stick by them, as the opposite element to women. "Patriarchy" was what made a husband dive across his wife and daughter's bodies when gunshots rang out at President Trump's rally last Saturday. His masculine protective elements happened in a second and he gave his life for his family. THAT is honorable men!Trump himself, even when shot and not knowing the extent of the wound, still said to Secret Service, "wait-wait-wait" before they led him to safety and raised his fist in strength and defiance, to say "fight fight fight." That is a leader and honorable man.
That is the ideal of the patriarch, not a thug or control freak...and yes, women can also be control freaks! (Myself!)
In my youth, I tried being gay, being bisexual, I tried women. It did not work. Nothing is like the power of the male-female dynamic, the figure 8 union of opposites. It is very difficult, yes I get the difficulty. The male and female is how life is made, plain and simple. I love women as my friends, my Sisters in Christ, my compatriots, my partners in heartfelt prayer. Little girls and little boys are DIFFERENT. No way to change that core element. Blessings to your heartfelt and raw writing (like mine, in many ways!). W. E. W.
Right you are! But, I have a tiny request. If you ever spot typos in my work, I would prefer you DM me about it, and not point it out in comments. It’s kinda like you wouldn’t go shouting about somebody’s pants being undone, you would come up to them and say it discreetly, right?☺️
Soooo dare I state this? I don't hate men. But prefer women. Enjoyed your post and you .are good points. Diversity is a tired subject. I have felt for decades, and it is appropriate to have a table such as woke, lol.
I have been in gaga, mouth-breathing, stupid love with one and only one woman since a certain day in concert choir class at A_____ High School in 1975.
She is the strongest, most determined, alpha-type person I ever met, and the kindest, most thoughtful, most loving and beautiful and vulnerable of haloed angels most men have ever tried and failed to imagine.
Our eyes met first, in mid-song, across a choir room ringing with music. I knew. When the bell rang, I walked across to her, took both her little hands in mine, and stared into her eyes without speaking until the bell rang again. The boy who left for school that morning never went home again. Every minute since, I have been the man who loves her. Her: not the stunning face and figure, not the animation and intelligence, but the secret girl inside, the warrior woman and the crying child. My One, my Only, my Darling. I lost her.
We both had so many issues from so much baggage. My radical fundamentalist upbringing, her poverty and abuse, and all their roots and tangles. In the mid-80s I was still writing her desperately, but she drifted out of reach at last and disappeared. For twenty-five years I searched every airport for those eyes, every crowd, every street. I married, had kids, tried to love the emotional abuse and hatefulness, and finally failed that, too. For the century’s first decade, I waited to die. She found me on Facebook.
“You have a message from A___ F___,” was waiting in my inbox on a dreary 2010 January morning, in a grey world with no horizon, no hope, no sky, no moon. And as I read it, all the color and the music I had lost so long came roaring back.
I spent the next forty days getting thrown out of Hell on my ear, laughing out loud for the joy of my escape, with twenty dollars, a toothbrush, and the love of my life. I am still laughing.
Our thirteenth anniversary was earlier this week, and I have been falling more in love with her for every one of these sweet years. We have been through more than one hell together, and our love has grown strong, stronger than we ever knew strength of love could be. The memories of her that I treasured through all the hateful years apart were only the hint of a promise of the joy I know as her man.
I call myself her Rescue Husband, and her tiny finger touches my lips as she says, “I’m the lucky one.”
We are older now, and we will lose our battle with Time. But we fight to fill each precious minute. It is not how long we live, it is not how long we love: It’s how much.
Quite a story.🩶 Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for inspiring it. May I mention you if I decide to buff it up a bit and post it?
Sure, thank you!🩶
Ooo such hope has risen in me from your beautiful words ty
I love men too- but I have always despised the whole damsel in distress trope. I’m afraid I’ve never wanted to be one. 🙃
I have worked in professions where I have been the only woman in the room. I adore the way (most) men are open and not backstabbers. I have and continue to have great friendships with men.
Meanwhile, my adult sons do open doors, walk women home to make sure they are safe, are perfect gentlemen. Even when their hearts are broken. They are woke, certainly. They, like you and I, despair of all the posturing that goes on.
I tend to think of HUMANS, rather than get tangled in the whole gender thing. Around here, things seem a bit different. Men certainly open doors for women - and women tend to return the favor. The proper response to having someone do something nice is, "Thank you." I load my car with 50 pound bags of animal feed all the time; once in a while a guy will see me carrying the bags to my car and insist on taking over, and I let him. Why not? If I refuse and insist on finishing it by myself, he would be hurt - by accepting his assistance, he gets to feel happy that he helped out a little old lady at the feed store.
Fixed gender roles are silly. One of my responsibilities is mucking out the donkey stall and chicken coop - my husband has a bad back, but I've inherited pretty solid bones and muscles (knock on wood!). One of my husband's responsibilities is cooking dinner - besides the fact that he's a better cook than I, I'm usually too busy before dinner helping his father.
That story you described sounds awful - why would a unicorn stab a poor little boy to death just because he's overweight? We should all just be nice to each other, helping when we're able, and gracefully accepting any help offered. There is no agenda to a door being held open by either a man or a woman - it's just a way of saying, "Hello," and a way to pump up the much needed kindness level in the world. I'm beginning to rant, now, too! 😅
Oh, I should’ve been more precise, it was a young man (a lord’s son) in that fairy tale. But the story is meant for kids, and either way a unciorn stabbing a young man to death and throwing his corpse aside is kinda scary in a kids’ fairy tale.
And very un-unicorn-like, besides!
I totally get it. In my family everbody does everything they can to survive (with 4 kids you can’t have it any other way 😂). No seriously, whomever is available to do the job - whether cooking or cleaning, does it.
My country is a nation of strong women. From taking care of farm animals to running the government. Nobody questions if she would be good for the job because she’s a women. At the same time, you wouldn’t believe how classy the ladies from my country village dress up when going to the opera.
At the same time, our men are still masculine. Mostly.
The traditional gender roles have adjusted to modern times, it was inevitable. At the same time, I enjoy my hubby spoining me just because… I’m his lady.😉☺️🩶
Some of the best friendships I've ever had have been with men. They are so straightforward. My first novel contains mostly male characters. We all have our downsides. Fleetwood mac are my favourite band and I think something that makes their songs so wonderful has to be the complex relationships and experiences of men and women.
I couldn’t agree more. You are so right 💙💫
100% . We live in society where both sexes - all individuals - all families - all communities - are sacrificed to the needs of the civilizational overlords. They use sexism, racism, economics, and everything else as a tool of division to render us divided and conquered.
Celebrate our own and each other differences - they are those unalienable rights referred to the American Declaration of Independence from tyranny.
To win against tyranny we must accept our own strength and understand how other can also help us be strong.
No society ever became stronger under the divisive weakness the oligarchs support.
Great article. What really bothers me about this movement against the damsel in distress is the disregard for the character herself. She is often boiled down to "needing to be saved by a man" when she is much more complex than that; she wants excitement, adventure, and wonder and is willing to face danger to find it. She just doesn't want to find it alone, and there's nothing wrong with that.
Thank you, exactly!🩶
I agree to every bit of this. I miss men saving women in TV and film, I love romance.
Loved this! My arms were getting tired from hugging trees! I may need to hug a lady and see what happens! Ill start with a side hug maybe!
It has been a long time since I heard a woman talk like this. It feels good. Refreshing. Thank you for saying it.
"Of course, I hate all the worst about men, just like I hate all the worst about women"- absolutely. Good article.
We women are fucked. Now they must compete in sports with 6’ 5” men. When I married my husband I told him it was his job to keep me safe and he had to be willing to take a bullet for me. I do want a hero among men.
Great writing piece, Kathrine! I also love men and will stick by them, as the opposite element to women. "Patriarchy" was what made a husband dive across his wife and daughter's bodies when gunshots rang out at President Trump's rally last Saturday. His masculine protective elements happened in a second and he gave his life for his family. THAT is honorable men!Trump himself, even when shot and not knowing the extent of the wound, still said to Secret Service, "wait-wait-wait" before they led him to safety and raised his fist in strength and defiance, to say "fight fight fight." That is a leader and honorable man.
That is the ideal of the patriarch, not a thug or control freak...and yes, women can also be control freaks! (Myself!)
In my youth, I tried being gay, being bisexual, I tried women. It did not work. Nothing is like the power of the male-female dynamic, the figure 8 union of opposites. It is very difficult, yes I get the difficulty. The male and female is how life is made, plain and simple. I love women as my friends, my Sisters in Christ, my compatriots, my partners in heartfelt prayer. Little girls and little boys are DIFFERENT. No way to change that core element. Blessings to your heartfelt and raw writing (like mine, in many ways!). W. E. W.
Good one! Should “chocking the life” be “choking the life,” my friend?
Right you are! But, I have a tiny request. If you ever spot typos in my work, I would prefer you DM me about it, and not point it out in comments. It’s kinda like you wouldn’t go shouting about somebody’s pants being undone, you would come up to them and say it discreetly, right?☺️
Soooo dare I state this? I don't hate men. But prefer women. Enjoyed your post and you .are good points. Diversity is a tired subject. I have felt for decades, and it is appropriate to have a table such as woke, lol.
WRITE ON,dear one,Di
Thanks for getting me even with the terrible typos.
Came here for another substacker, like what I see, think I'll stick around.