Venus and Mars
A while ago, my mother asked me to get on her computer and help a guy I didn’t know deal with a clingy girl on Facebook. I did the best I could, trying with what little information I had to get a rough psychological profile of the woman so I could know what causes her obsessive behavior and come up with the safest and most effective strategy to ease her out of it, and given that I made some accurate guesses about her, it seemed to be going okay on that front. All the while, the guy just kept droning on about what kind of a non-confrontational guy he is and how he learned to not care what other people think and I bet in all that time since he hasn’t read a single entry from Boggle’s blog even though I kept linking to it. In the end, it turned out he didn’t even realize that my mother let me take over, so my advice was discarded because he wanted advice from a woman.
Ah. I see. That’s great.
I really hate this. I hate this so much.
I hate being told that I can’t understand women because they’re so mysterious. I hate how this guy discarded all my advice because only a woman can understand a woman because apparently they function entirely differently. I hate it when people act like men and women are two different species.
Yeah, woman are different from men, but we’re still the same thing. The framework is the same thing, it’s just a different filter. You try to figure out what a woman feels like, you try to figure out what you would feel like if you grew up with everyone expecting you to act like what a woman is supposed to be like.
You’re a woman trying to figure out how a man thinks like, just flip the concept around. The opposite of something is just the same thing in a different color.
We’re all just mirrors that reflect our pasts. Some of those mirrors might be shaped a little differently, some might have a different sort of glass in them that reflects light ever so slightly differently. Maybe there are some slight differences between the female and the male mirror, but why would it matter what’s alike and what’s not when all the things reflected in us are so infinitely complex and unique to every one of us? How can differences matter, when everyone is different? And how can we claim that any of us are different, when we are born exactly the same?
