Every once in a while I come across something that compels me to write. In this case, I read an article my friend wrote about women and his perception of them. In response to what he’s come to understand about them, here’s my take on it:

 

We weren’t all created equal and while I can’t speak for all women (lord knows I’m not remotely your average one in any case), I can account for my experiences with them. Having been one for 29 years also helps.

 

My perspective on women and womanhood is a bit different from your average girl, I think. Feeling like a spy in the ranks whenever I hang out with a group of girls does present an interesting and probably more honest take on things. I’ve been on the overweight, pizza-faced, ‘not pretty’ dork side of the fence, and I’ve spent some time leaning toward the other side of the line as well. All of which resulted in a balanced outlook on life and an understanding of what - and how - people think of each other.

 

So, let’s start, shall we? I grew up as a bit of a tomboy. My grandmother was one of those sophisticated lady types who wanted me to learn how to speak, walk and act like a lady. Having been the unsophisticated, wild adventuring type that I was, I had to be, how do I put this, initiated into femininity and trained to adopt all of its characteristics. I had to learn about sitting with my legs crossed and that girls aren’t allowed to talk about the kinds of things boys talk about. Girls had to be pretty and sit in a corner and play with dolls, while boys got to chase after frogs and have downhill cart races and get bruises and cuts. Clearly I wasn’t a fan of playing out scenes in Barbie’s doll house with my kid girl friends. But I digress.

 

 

Jealousy in the ranks:

 

Time eventually evoked the need to get noticed by boys and fit in with everyone, and so my journey to being a woman began. Starting with makeup, ridiculous fashion experiments and learning what boys like about girls from my horribly misguided peers who were, in retrospect, just as lost as I was. This is where the unsteady road to womanhood starts. It’s at this time where girls become glaringly aware of every little feature of females around them. Like who has prettier hair and better skin. Who is skinnier, more tanned. Who has the ability to mesmerize boys with just a laugh and a well-timed flick of her lustrous blonde locks. This is where lines are drawn and friendships start splitting up, as the leagues of hotness and coolness are formed.

 

From this point onward, women are on a permanent search for a female friend who they can be themselves with and not feel intimidated or judged by. And what a mission that is. The perfect friendship is one where you can be honest without upsetting her, where you can hang out without either of you checking up on each other to see who is getting more attention from guys. The kind where there are no nasty underlying tones in your conversations with each other and no threat that she’ll stab you in the back at some stage in time. Women can be immensely mistrusting of each other. And for good reason. They live their lives like Survivor contestants, always seeking to form alliances but never completely trusting most of their associates. And, should she want a guy badly enough, she could go to lengths of black widow proportion sometimes to get what she wants and make sure no other woman gets his interest. The reality is that women are constantly reminded that they have short shelf lives and that with every passing year several thousand younger models appear on the market, ready to pluck away the last available men. It’s a race against time and while not so obvious in their twenties, by the dawning of their third decade on this planet, women will start deploying some serious tactics to get their man. Sad as it is and as much as they would probably never admit to it, for women, most things are a competition. We all want to be the pretty one, the skinny one, the desired one. Nobody wants to be the girl in the group that all the guys overlook or cringe at and deem the ‘take one for the team’ girl. We measure our worth by whether we are desirable and no matter how hardcore a woman might seem on the surface, deep down we are all pretty sensitive and in need of appreciation and recognition.

 

 

Psychology of footwear and accessories:

 

Shoes. From what I’ve learned about women, two things cause irrational obsessions - and devastating blows to bank accounts - in the material possessions division: shoes and handbags. Without fail, just about every girl I know has an obsession with at least one of these two. Some are even unfortunate enough to be conflicted between which of the two takes priority and end up chasing after both. Somehow, living off bread and black coffee for a month doesn’t seem so bad at all to a girl who has set her sights on the perfect pair of shoes. I can’t sit here and say I haven’t fallen victim to this obsessive spending craze though. I have once cleared out my entire bank account on pay day to buy a new desktop computer and ended up having to borrow petrol money for the next few weeks, just to get to work. So I guess I can relate. By nature, I am pragmatic to the bone. I understand the typically male philosophy of having only one thing and wearing or using it until it literally starts falling apart before you get a replacement. Unlike most women, I have only one handbag. It’s practical yet stylish and accommodates everything I need to carry with me. Since I’ve always had a ‘be ready for anything’ mentality, you’ll find a mass array of gadgets and a switchblade residing alongside the makeup and perfume in my handbag. But I digress. When it came to shoes, I never had a thing with it. I had a pair to walk in, a pair to run in, and a pair of heels for when the occasion summoned something other than an everyday dress code. Ever since I was 15 I also always had one pair of insanely treacherous but mind-blowing vixenesque boots. Without fail, all these stripper/S&M leather stiletto numbers ended up gathering dust in my closet after one or two very ambitious but undeniably failed attempts to wear them in public without tripping all over myself or walking around like a cross-legged praying mantis. But this all changed when I started a routine 8 to 5pm job.

Which brings me to my next point:

 

 

The hive mind...

 

Something happens when women spend time together. Paradigm shifts occur and somehow, for reasons beyond anything I can fathom, a synchronicity develops. The bonding of females not only results in inexplicable urges to belong in the halls of female-hood but our physical bodies also become attuned to each other. Biological mechanisms end up kicking in at the same time and many women in a group of friends fall pregnant simultaneously. Coming from someone who honestly had no desire to be a shoe obsessed girly girl, I can attest to the weird reality that women influence other women in a big way.

 

Just to give you an example: Within a month of working with a group of women, I developed an odd interest in shopping for ’things’. Not even stuff I really needed, there was just an allure to the whole notion of buying something new. Before long, without being able to identify the exact moment when that transition occurred, I was having discussions with my female co-workers about shoes. And then buying some. And then some more. In the course of six months my shoe collection went up by probably five pairs and admittedly I barely wear most of them. The lady-like semi-heels that ended up not agreeing with my personality, the casual pair of sneakers that made me feel like a 13-year old whenever I wore them, the beaded thongs that seemed cool until I saw a middle-aged Afrikaans woman walking around with the same pair on...the list continues. I’m one of those people who wants to know I can jump around and run – or at the very least, walk around the mall without wanting to die – without restriction of quite possibly breaking an ankle in the process. So for the most part I stick to shoes that facilitate these requirements. And in those moments when the inexplicable girly need to dress up surfaces, I don a pair of death-dealing Iron Fist stilettos and suck it up smilingly, even though I can’t stop myself from wondering why women endure these levels of discomfort for the sake of feeling sexy.

 

 

Like a fine wine...

 

Ah yes. Cougars, MILFs and just flat out hot older women (who have undeniable sophistication levels in the mix). These are the ranks of women in their mid thirties to forties who have managed to retain their outer beauty while having developed a pretty secure sense of self. What you will encounter in an older, more mature woman is something almost never found in women not yet decently into their thirties. An older woman has gone through all the awkward phases and knows herself, she has learned the way the world works and understands the power she has in it. She’s done all the things every woman does at some stage in her youth: running after a guy who she thought she loved and would marry, had her heart broken, changed herself for a man and swore never to do it again. She’s relinquished her fears of judgment and stopped caring what people think, rather understanding that developing depth of character and embracing her sensuality is far more rewarding. She’s accepted her body for what it is and learned to make the most of it. And all of this shows in how she’ll treat a younger man. Because he’s almost certainly willing and keen to learn and she enjoys his youthful enthusiasm and energy. This tends to be a hugely mutually beneficial scenario, however short-lived the relationship or encounter may be. Unless, of course, the young guy ends up falling for this siren and pronounces his undying devotion to her. That’s the fastest way to end the mutually beneficial agreement - she’s where she is because she wants to be, not because she’s looking for a mate. She could have one in a second if she wanted it so.

 

 

I know what I want, dammit. But then again...

 

Something about women makes them very adamant about what they want, in that moment when they want it. They’ll stomp their feet and swear that this is what they need or want and come hell or high water, that’s the only way. A week later you’ll find she’s probably changed her mind about it. Women go through mental overhauls quite often and it’s hard to keep track of where they are at any given point in time. This week it’s all about being healthy and dieting obsessively, next week it’s about accepting yourself the way you are and just being happy. It’s something that has baffled (and, admittedly also scared) me about women for as long as I can remember. Yes, I suppose hormones have their place in this. They do wreak havoc in even the most disciplined of minds sometimes and turn brains into lumps of disorganized jelly. Frankly, I don’t think there is any explanation or predictable pattern to provide relief to confused men. Sorry about that, guys.

 

 

Of suppressed drives and social expectations:

 

This one is a topic that could easily spawn its own blog, so fiercely diverse are its many branches of debate-worthiness. Women and men probably have equally revved sex drives. The reasons why she might not show it publicly is because it’s still highly frowned upon. A woman would soon find herself slammed by derogatory terms and getting looks of disgust and disapproval if she was as open about her sexual conquests and desires as a man. There’s that whole lock and key comparison that’s been doing the rounds on the web for a while now. In case you haven’t heard of it, it essentially says: a key that can open any lock is a master key, but a lock that is easily opened is just a crappy lock. Point is, a woman who is too easily accessible in this regard, is not respected or appreciated nearly as much as one who makes you work for it. Women are taught that men like to hunt, that they like mystery and that if you want any chance of being liked by a guy, you need to make it hard for him to get you. Because otherwise he simply won’t respect you and you’ll end up being nothing but a forgettable notch on his belt. A disposable tissue in wait of being blown on once and then discarded. Nobody likes feeling used and it’s this very fear of being used and judged negatively that makes most women shut their mouths and keep their debaucherous needs in check.

Women are made from a different kind of steel:

Women are chameleons in a sense. Emotional shape shifters. They can go from soft and caring to strong and defensive without skipping a beat. Adamantium indeed. A woman can be so finely attuned to the emotions of those around her that, depending on her emotional empathy levels, she’ll be affected by and even manifest those same emotions. When they do bond, women bond to a degree of intimacy that men can rarely conceive of. They can sit and spill out their guts for hours over coffee and a slice of double choc chocolate cake and feel a great sense of relief afterwards, while guys go to a bar together or rough each other up on a sports field instead of discussing anything to relieve the tension. Women are the ones who sit up late at night, worried about other people. They are the ones who raise hell to protect their children and who carry on going for them even when they simply cannot find the strength to stand for themselves any longer. They wear themselves thin for the ones they love and will stop at nothing to provide for and protect them. A woman has the dedication to keep going in spite of herself and her own needs. They put up with things that are inconceivable to men, because they refuse to give up when they love someone. They bite down and keep going, in spite of all kinds of physical pain. Because women are inherently nurturers, they almost always put someone else’s needs before their own.

Measuring Up:

I won’t sit here and deny that the dimensions and scale of a man’s manhood is irrelevant. We all know that it is, in fact, a key aspect to consider in the success of said man’s chances of winning over a woman. The ‘motion of the ocean’ statement was probably made up by an over-compensating guy who realized he ‘came short’ in this department, but having said that, there are variables that need to be considered here. Women all have varying sex drives. This is in direct correlation to how important sex will be to them and resultantly, how much of an impact your level of impact will have. Also, for most women, sex should be considered as more of a full-blown, synchronized orchestra than one raging guy who can’t even play guitar, smashing a Fender on the floor and screaming prolifically. Women, depending on the variant you happen to be dealing with, have sexual instrumentation panels that could scare off even seasoned fighter pilots. However, suffice to say, psychology plays a heavy role in the whole process and while a woman needs something reasonably sound in the physicality department, she is also substantially turned on by the thoughts put in her head and the words said to her. So perhaps there is some saving grace here for guys, because it probably means you’ll have to work harder at it. Which means you’ll ultimately find yourself more skilled than the canon-packing drill sergeant you shamefully but enviously laid eyes upon at gym. You’re sort of like the pizza-faced kid in school who had to develop a fantastic sense of humour and sensitivity to people to be appreciated, only to finally have clear skin in his twenties AND pack a mighty arsenal of charm thanks to his years of extra effort. Things do balance out. For the most part.

 

 

Benjamins...every high roller needs them:

 

Alright so admittedly, money is a factor for women. Nobody can ever deny this and if they do, they are blatantly lying or perfectly content with being caravanning hippies for all their lives and living off tinned cat food and watered down Oros. Long ago, an Alpha male was the one who could bring home the biggest kill and clobber the two functioning brain cells out of any other cave man doing the rounds. Women wanted him because he could protect and provide. That instinctive need is part of the female survival system and since today’s Alpha male typically grooms and wears a pair of Levi glasses and drives an Aston Martin, that’s what women will go for. It’s great to have a striking personality and a wonderful sense of humor. It’s impressive if you can be a handy man one minute and yet still have the ability to be attuned to her emotional needs the next. Yes, initially she’ll swear to stay by your side forever and happily declare that it doesn’t matter where you stay, as long as you’re together. But over time, once the endorphins wear off and she comes down from the high of the initial romance phase, she’s going to expect to see some ambition and drive from you. A driven man is an attractive man. Whether she looks you up and down from the very first meeting to decide if you’re worthy or whether she does it six months into your relationship, it will happen at some point in time, to some degree. Women tend to rate themselves by proxy of what kind of men they’re with. If he’s rich and successful and has dashing good looks, she deems herself of a higher standard because she managed to get a guy like that. This obviously works both ways. Point is that to some degree, your money will have an impact on how suitable you are as a future mate to a woman. If the size of your wallet matters all too much within moments of meeting her, however, run.

All of this is subject to exception, of course. Not all women are jealous and competitive all the time, they don't all chase after money or looks. This is just, in brief, how I've come to see some part of it.

This Article was found on: News24 written by: Jexx

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