Monday, October 22, 2012


One of the truly galling things about Not-So-Nice's is their abilty to schmear their filth all over their Nice Gal.

Most of us hear "dirty" jokes growing up, and were titillated by them (when we were in middle school), but at some point in time, we recognize those jokes for what they are: crude. We normal people dispense with their propogation as soon as we discover the truth that crude feels gross, because it is dehumanizing and in the dehumanizing of our fellow man (much less intimates!) we also lose our humanity. That when you lie down with dogs you get up with fleas; pigs and muck, etc. etc.

Look, I am no prude (this is obvious if you know me) but the level of emotional filth in which these men reside is breathtaking. And while at first they seem to be pushing the envelope, and next perhaps have arrested development, finally one comes to the conclusion that they are simply animalistic with regard to sexuality.

In the 13 years I was with my first husband he literally never referred to the act of intercourse as anything other than f***ing, even when I begged him to use another word. He could, childishly and mockingly, refer to the act as "sex" but the prospect of calling it "making love" was so far beyond the realm of possibility as to be a joke. His. He laughed at the idea whenever I raised it. Sadly, I am not alone in that experience.

We could be the most despicable women in the world (we're not; we're nice) and it would not warrant such coarse treatment. Who could marry someeone and be with them for half their life and refuse to be gentle? It's just so, so gross. And of course we were all young when targeted by these NSN's, and so lacked experience in such talk, as well as cofidence to assert our own needs in the intimate relationship.

Invariably these NSN's are hypersexual as well. I could no more bend over to feed the dog but I would be accosted. Sometimes it would just be an animalistic (did he think that was compelling?) grunt on the part of my NSN, or maybe it would be an open-handed, full-force wallop on my ass (hard enough to hurt). The message was clear: you're sexy and I will punish you for it.

Well consider the message received, and reciprocated in the obverse: you weren't sexy and I pitied you for that.

But in addition to the fact that I still flinch if I feel someone walking up behind me, and also that I would happily never have intercourse again in my life, ever (having terrible, coerced, unsatisfying sex every night we were under the same roof for 12 years was enough to extinguish that flame) I think the thing that has scarred me most is the mental muck. Because NSN's are so often perverted and unfaithful, they believe this about their partners. It's projection, obviously. So any period of time that the NSN is not montioring his Nice Gal, he believes she is behaving as he does: screwing everyone she can .

And the accusations are so outlandish as to be laughable, except it isn't funny because it's so gross. Accusations of sex with: immediate and distant family members including in-laws, professors, coaches, male and female friends, a random (now professional) athlete that lived in the same dorm as me, and anyone who belonged to my gym. Essentially everyone is a threat to the NSN, who sees people as an orifices.

And it changes you. You start to wonder if this is really how the rest of the world thinks. Maybe you stop hugging your brother or brother-in-law, or don't accept the offer to join colleagues at lunch. You wouldn't want to mislead. And so your worls shrinks, and becomes more dangerous. Are you as naive as he claims you are? After all, he's trotting out that tired old maxim about how he's older and has more experience. But he's not experienced: he's sick. And the fact that he has unresolved issues about his own sexuality and his mother is no reason to sully up someone else's life.

Pathetic, disgusting creatures.

PS: Look, Asshole! Nnow you can call it a disease an absolve yourself of all personal responsibility!

No comments:

Post a Comment