Perhaps Women’s Fatal Flaw

Through a string of conversations yesterday, I came to a conclusion about women, how they think, and how they make some of their decisions. It is irrational, without merit, and no man in his right mind would ever come up with the solution. So I share with you today: so that men, you may better understand the female psyche, and women, so that you can verify or deny my claims.

Women operate in cliques. They do so because to a woman, everything is connected. In every clique there are many personalities, all of whom are comparable to Winnie the Pooh characters. The Pooh of the group is the natural leader, Tigger is the comedian, Piglet the coward, Rabbit the bitch*, Owl the intellectual, Gopher the work-a-holic, and Eeyore the self-depreciating. I would guess that in elder circles you also have Kanga, the over-protective mother that either always brings her child with her, or is always talking about how concerned she is for the child. Roo is a bit too young to really characterize, so we’ll leave him out of the group.

Without giving things much thought, women tend to slide into these cliques with ease and comfort, knowing that their lives are shared with others. Women long for the connection that comes with it, and enjoy gabbing every now and again about all that’s going on, has gone on, will go on, and may or may not go on. These circles can be extremely supportive and a learning environment for all involved. Unfortunately they usually are not.

You see, there is a fatal flaw in the ideology of the female clique, one which I will identify after telling a brief story.

When I was young, most likely during grade school, I was sitting and thinking one day when I came to the astounding realization that I am the only one who experiences my own life. I am the only one who hears what I hear, feels what I feel, smells, senses, thinks, understands, the only one who feels the pain in my right eye because I poked it in my sleep. Though I share my life with others, volitionally, they will never ever experience what I experience. They will in no way be me, they are not my psychological self. I ran to my mother to announce my astounding discovery, but she did not seem to understand me. I do not know if that is due to my lack of vocabulary and fine language, or if she has never made this realization herself, but as if I was speaking another language entirely, I was not understood.

I shared this story with my husband yesterday, and he verified that men, at least to his knowledge, do not need to come to this conclusion consciously. They have no need to decide that they are not only a unit in a group of friends, they already understand this and function as such. Perhaps why men’s friendships function far more simply and efficiently than women’s?

Which brings me to this: women, your friends do not experience your life with you. Though you share events with them both literally and figuratively through re-tellings of stories, they are not you and they never will be. And likewise, you are not them and you never will be. You are not parts of a larger machine and you are no closer to being that person if you are to share your life with them.

Example: Eeyore/Piglet is having relationship trouble with her man. He didn’t call her yesterday and she thinks something may be wrong. She goes and vents to Rabbit* to blow off some steam and concern. Rabbit makes a very big deal out of the situation drawing vast meaning out of a lack of phone call, and suggests to Eeyore/Piglet to take some form of drastic action, usually either a direct “break-up”, or a “test” to see if he “really cares”. -.- I wish I was making this up. Eeyore/Piglet, concerned that her man doesn’t find her attractive and too cowardly to debate such “flawless” advice, instantly acts on some solution Rabbit has provided because, surely, Rabbit knows and understands EVERYTHING Eeyore/Piglet has been experiencing.

RABBIT DOES NOT KNOW. SHE HAS NOT EXPERIENCED YOUR LIFE WITH YOU. SHE IS, IN FACT, INEXPERIENCED WHEN IT COMES TO YOU, AND CLEARLY WHEN IT COMES TO MEN. Don’t fall into the Rabbit’s trap. Women: when it comes to important decisions, don’t let your clique lead them for you. Ask for their advice, pit their advice against the cold hard facts, and then decide if it is good advice. E.g: a man not calling you for one single day is not a reason to freak out. Especially if it’s Sunday or Monday; we’re back in football season, ladies.

What this means for men: I know a man, one whom I spoke with last night, who had something similar happen to him as noted above. He found a woman he was deeply interested in, whom he got along with splendidly, until she started acting strange for no foreseeable reason. During my discussion with him it was revealed that a discussion with a “friend” of this woman most likely had much to do with her strange behavior and the end of their relationship, by domino effect. He still cites this woman as his perfect fit whom he will never forget.

Men, hold your sisters and mothers accountable. Discuss things with them openly and encourage them to chew and think on thoughts before they go and do stupid things, particularly if they are prone to this behavior. Point them to this blog if you wish.

Women, understand that you are you and no one else is. Make plans accordingly.

*Rabbit is usually one of two kinds of bitch: either she is a drama bitch, or the anti-drama bitch. The drama bitch feeds off of drama, and accordingly makes a big deal out of everything. She will even make suggestions to start more drama if there isn’t enough going on at the current time. She may do this subconsciously or consciously. The anti-drama bitch is actually a bit of a deceptive name. She also feeds off of drama, but claims to hate it. She over-compensates by ranting about how much she hates drama and all the things she has done in her life so that her life isn’t so dramatic and why don’t you do them too? In short: anti-drama bitch stirs up drama about how much she hates drama. Again, it is unknown whether she does this consciously or subconsciously, so always be careful about confronting a Rabbit. She may not realize what she is.

2 thoughts on “Perhaps Women’s Fatal Flaw

  1. It’s Winnie the Pooh, dear. And I would like to believe that you do not assign every woman to one of these characters. Drawing truth from stereotypes is limited in capacity.

    And I know exactly what you mean about realizing that “only I am me.” I had the same experience years ago, I just kept the thought to myself.

  2. Yes, I thought I’d fixed that. >.>

    Not every woman, no. But a vast majority have these traits, at least to some degree, and I think we could all at some point have fit into this stereotypical characterization, particularly in juvenile years.

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