Every woman makes at least one man in her life. Men don’t just happen naturally, or accidentally, by the mere passage of time. Guys first have to be molded and ultimately destroyed by a woman before they can be born an actual Man. Some never cross the line. The male’s natural life-path springs directly from boyhood into “guy hood” wherein which it will plateau for ever more without the intervention of a Woman. This is really terrible news, because guys are complete morons.
Even guys (especially guys) will tell you this. They are, in fact, the loudest to advocate on the subject of their inherent, inescapable stupidity.
“Guys are idiots,” and “Guys are so dumb,” and “Seriously, guys are pigs, disgusting…” and so on. Yes, thank you. We know.
So, here’s the trouble. Women do not enjoy this task of man-making. Nor do they set out to accomplish this in the first place. Women in fact tend to prefer our men pre-made, if not exactly ready to eat then at least packaged in some kind of microwave-safe exterior. Something that’s been through most of the important phases, where someone else has done the work of separating the mashed potatoes from the gravy, and at least put everything in its proper section. Add a little S&P, nuke ‘em for a while and, Presto! Man.
That scenario is fine with most women. After all, every relationship requires some work.
However, when you find yourself the first real woman on the scene, you better look out. It’s dangerous business walking blindly into too-vast porn collections, video games, juvenile ideas, and an emotional maturity level resembling an early-years episode of Saved By The Bell. The emotional carnage of this process hits both the sexes equally, and it is no fun endeavor.
So, how does this happen? How are women suckered into emotional ties to some dumb guy instead of finding a pre-made man? Well, guys are sneaky.
They walk around in a man-shell (except with a bunch of mush and crap jiggling around underneath the surface) and they generally have a well-refined sales pitch.
Women also tend to be more empathetic and nurturing (even the jaded, sarcastic ones.) So, when a woman gets a sense of some of the mush beneath, rather than listening to logic, we are instead inclined to believe that we can be of assistance. We can help this guy to fill out his man suit with just a little bit of tailoring and TLC. We believe this investment will be a mutually beneficial endeavor. We’ll help him, straighten him up, and then he will be straight for us.
This never happens.
Instead you end up hanging around experiencing slightly differing versions of the same process; a series of confused cave-man expressions followed by tearful, elongated explanations that never ever lead to an “A-Ha” moment.
The man-change cannot occur until the woman has become completely depleted, and the only shred of emotion remaining is her most basal killer instinct- which she will use and direct with ninja precision on the unsuspecting guy. She will leave no crack nor crevice, nor childhood insecurity un-scrutinized. At this point the guy is systematically stamped out. The masquerade man-shell is blown to smithereens, and the guy is transmogrified back into a little boy crying for his mommy.
That is how Men happen.
At some point after the explosion the guy will rise from the ashes anew, and call himself… Man.
That or he will learn to fake it better while harboring serious commitment issues forever after. It’s really kind of a crap shoot. It’s also how Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte punned their way into two torturous feature-length films…
Good luck ladies, and beware.