Monthly Archives: April 2017

My Heart Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

I went shopping yesterday with my own money. I spent copious amounts of money on new shoes, a little sexy lingerie and some makeup, but I don’t really care. I got absolutely no enjoyment out of it. I could give a damn less if the stuff went missing tomorrow. It could never mean half as much to me as the clothes that were once given to me by a man I loved. I cherished the clothes a man I loved would provide for me, even when the money spent was half that of what I spent on my own, because it endeared me to him, every stitch of clothing being more valuable than anything because he gave them to me.

I went by my grandmother’s and sat and talked with her for a while. I avoided looking at the pictures on the wall off in the corner behind me so I never got around to crying like I thought I might. We talked for a while and I enjoyed that. She won’t be in the state forever I know, as she’ll be moving in a year or two to be by my aunt, hundreds of miles away. I know nothing lasts forever, but I remember the truth in what she said to me, that it’s no fun being alone. And she’s alone now, the same as I now feel alone in my heart, without a man’s love and masculinity to complete me.

I don’t want to be out in that world alone, I don’t want to be working a job. When I clean and run around for someone, I want it to be for a man I love. I was made to be softer and weaker. I wasn’t made like a man who was given much greater physical and mental strength to go forth and endure the harshness of the world. Going forth into the world is masculinizing and hardening, it takes from a woman’s femininity and value.

I dream of bare feet and warm, sunny days where I can laugh and play with those I love. I dream of waiting once again for the man I love to come home. I dream of cooking and cleaning and enjoying the wonders of homemaking and being there for the man I love once again. I dream of laying in bed as my hair fans out upon the pillows, curling up and gently breathing in his scent as I patiently await for his return. I dream of those days once again of having no concern for the outside world, but simply being that helper to a man I love. A woman was made to complete a man, she wasn’t made to compete with him or go out and conquer the world with him. I want to love him. I want to complete him.

But none of these desires in my heart can ever change the fact that I just simply don’t want to be here anymore. Perhaps it’s just that some people just weren’t meant to be happy. I go out and work and make my own money, and with every dollar I make I grow even more resentful of him; I lose that much more respect for him. The truth is that I only work simply to have somewhere else to go and be, and money to stay gone when I’m not working. But he can’t stop me. He can’t force me to feel something that I simply don’t feel. And if I ever did find someone else, neither could he stop me from leaving when my heart simply doesn’t want to stay.

There are simply no answers as to why this is. No amount of studying of psychology can provide true insight into love, into hate, or into what it is that makes us tick; into what it is that makes us human. People do and feel what they want, no matter the personal costs- no matter the risks-and when it comes to love, many have even given their very lives and every possession they own over something that can’t even be defined or understood.

I speak with other people, including plenty of men, but I don’t believe I can ever find anyone to truly love me and provide for me, placing me under that protection and coverture once again. I think love is rare and hard to find, and that it’s something to be cherished above all else if you do indeed find it.

But I feel like that softness has been stripped from me, that part of me that was once gentle. Part of that femininity is to bring love and joy to the hearts of others, to be an escape from the cruelness and harshness of the world. With something simple like home-baked goods or simply carefree childlikenss even in a technically grown woman, it can bring joy and warmth to others. I want to love a man once again, I want to give him my all. I want to be able to joyfully submit to him and for home to be my haven once again. Because when you have that; when you have someone to love and give your heart to, then you have everything, and no amount of money could ever compare to that.


It’s Not About the Housework

If there’s one thing that people just never seem to understand, it would be that me being at home for all of these years has nothing at all to do with housework. Whether I spend 5 minutes or 6 hours a day doing housework is completely irrelevant. You always see people attempting to justify the position of “stay at home mothers” by means of what money they might make doing the same jobs outside of the home. They’ll say things like “stay at home mothers spend x amount of time washing dishes” or “x amount of time running the kids to school and x amount of time cooking and sweeping floors,” and etc…etc…etc… But what is never mentioned is that women working has nothing to do with housework but everything to do with independence from men.

I cry all the time at work, but not because I “don’t want to work.” It has nothing to do with that. I could get on my hands and knees and scrub my house from top to bottom, and while I might complain about the work itself, I would be happy. I would be happy because I was doing something that was worthwhile. Sweeping my own home and doing the dishes and scrubbing down the bathroom and doing the laundry for my own household has value and merit. I’m “going somewhere” when I do those things even if I do them day in and day out. What is the value and purpose of me doing those things outside of the home? If I was a man it might have more value and merit because it would enable me to move up in the world, have power and independence and provide for a family or something. But I’m not a man, nor do I want to be a man. I don’t want to be “powerful.” In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I’ve always felt happier being powerless.

When I was younger I loved working. I loved going out and making money and having independence. But that all changed once I became a wife and mother. After I became a wife and mother I began to break down in tears (the same as I’m doing right now, even after all these years) at the very thought of going out and making my own money. It’s not because I’m somehow “lazy” or any sort of bullshit like that. It’s because I feel the femininity inside of me. It’s because I don’t want to be independent. I wanted to be feminine and nurturing, depending on a man and having my sexuality belonging only to one man.

They push the two-income model of families on all of us because they don’t want women to be dependent on men, and that’s what it’s all about. If women went home, then men could control women via money and the regulation of women’s sexuality by making women dependent on men. Me being home all of these years has never been about housework, it’s been about me depending on a husband to care for me, and me having paid employment of any kind (even part-time) destroys all of that, and that is why women have to work in our society. That is why it is pushed on us. Because if women didn’t work, especially after marriage, then feminism couldn’t exist.

I wouldn’t mind making less than a man, if I knew that it was generally accepted and understood by society that men were supposed to be taking care of women. Not at all. I don’t want to be any man’s “equal,” and I would never want to be in a position of power where I was some man’s boss or anything. It wouldn’t feel right. The first thing that happens when I’ve ever been attracted to a man is that I feel like I want to submit to him, to be taken care of by him, like I’m safe with him and don’t have anything to worry about. It’s just this natural instinct that I feel when I feel that polarity and attraction. I don’t want to be independent. That’s why I never went out and worked, and that’s why the thought of working sickens me and makes me cry my eyes out. Because I feel it, I feel it so deeply inside of me, that femininity, as if it determines everything about me- and I love it.

And more power does mean more responsibility, but that’s part of being a man. Women hand over a great deal of rights to be taken care of and provided for, and are usually happier for it. It’s pathetic that the men of our society would send their wives out into the workforce to help provide for the family. What kind of a man would do such a thing? Apparently not much of one given how emasculated the men of society are today. A man should feel like an utter failure, like he has lost a part of his masculinity, by needing the “help” of a woman, especially his own wife and mother of his children, to help provide for him or his family. Any man that would expect his wife to be out in the workforce should be beat- and that’s the truth. Why would any man want to send his wife out there like that??

That’s what it’s all about. And I would really like to understand why on earth paid employment is always supposed to be the cure for boredom? I don’t see anybody in the workforce except for the biggest losers in history not being able to find something to do when they aren’t working. When I’m not busy with housework or errands I simply find something else I like doing, which is the same thing anybody else does after work. How is this even an issue?

Also, me marrying young and having no income or independence of my own has protected me. It’s forced me to stay under the authority of one man and kept my family intact and prevented me from having all kinds of failed relationships and multiple sexual partners, not to mention the “blended family” where people have children from different fathers/mothers. I’m as old as I am now having only slept with my husband. If I had been an independent woman or had waited until later in life to get married (even if I only waited until my mid-20s or something) that probably wouldn’t be the case. Therefore my innocence and femininity was protected, and I was protected. I always took my sexuality very serious and still do. I can’t imagine allowing any man but the most important and beloved to penetrate me! Dear God, how can that be casual???

So yeah, I cry my fucking eyes out because of paid employment, but it’s not because i’m lazy or anything of the sort, and I won’t be told that by anybody. I did take on a part-time job that I do like. It’s simple and laid back and I might stay there just as a way of having a little bit of spending/saving money. But even then the woman training me today was giving us advice on how not to get bored!!! But I still stopped by at my husband’s work and sat in the parking lot crying my eyes out outside of the shop. He came out to my car and held me for a minute and told me to call the place I had been working and tell them that I wouldn’t be coming back.

And no, I don’t want to go back, but I am for a week or two because I promised the owner I would be there when she needed me for the next couple of weeks. I wasn’t just going to walk out on her. I’m keeping a promise (something some people in this world are still honorable enough to do) even though it’s killing me. After that I will probably keep my other small part time job (only about 24 hours a week) because it’s more laid back and fun, and a place I’m familiar with and close to home. I know that working was a mistake, but in some ways I guess it was a lesson I had to learn. I just don’t have that drive of independence and probably never will have.

I Don’t Care About Money

I came home Sunday with plentiful money from work, but I didn’t care. I did nothing but cry the entire way home, in fact. I didn’t care about the money at all, because it’s not like it was making me happy. My first thought was to come home and throw all the cash to the wind. Within only a few days of having paid employment I’ve been able to put a lot of money back in savings, and while it’s nice to have, I really don’t like it.

We live in this world that tells women to go out and work and be independent. It amazes me as much as it sickens me the way our society is. It isn’t even thought that a man should be providing for his wife or that men should take care of women. Just suggest such a thing, and you have a mental disorder. Just suggest there are differences between men and women or that men should provide and you could start a damned riot (it’s happened).

If you look at family law, it makes no distinctions between sex. Instead of marriage being seen as an institution for men to provide for and protect women and children, it’s some genderless institution now were spouses provide for *each other.* The whole idea of marriage being about us providing for each other just makes me feel kind of sick. It makes me lose respect for marriage, for men, for society. Most people just cohabit these days, proving all the more that marriage has lost the deeper meaning that it once had and anyone who truly believes it has nothing to do with women having careers is retarded.

I know what I’ve always felt, that I wanted to bond with a man who would provide for me and take care of me. My senses are very dulled now. In some ways me going out and taking on paid employment (for the first time EVER in our marriage, and we’ve been married since I was practically a teenager) has helped the marriage because it’s confirmed what I’ve always felt in my heart and it’s made my husband become angry and want all the more to get up and stop acting like a wimp the way he had been acting. It’s also worth noting that I only took on paid employment to separate from him, lending further credit to the claim that women having careers is damaging relations between men and women and undermining the true meaning of marriage.

People look at me strange that I would be as old as I am with no career and little to no work experience. The good news for me is that everyone unanimously thought I was no older than 19 or 20 years old (my employer even asked if I was old enough to be serving alcohol over the phone (she didn’t have my app in front of her at the time to see my real age)).

Nobody believes I’m truly as old as I am, which also confirms that living a traditional lifestyle has preserved my youth, preserved my innocence and beauty and kept me more feminine. (It’s probably one of the best anti-aging secrets ever. Just be feminine, just be happy and joyful and full of love, depending on a man and admiring men in general and focusing on keeping fit and feminine and doing housework and helping your man and being there for him).

Guess what? I don’t care what people think. I feel no shame in not having had a career. If they reject me for that, it’s their problem. I don’t care what my mother or anyone else in the world thinks. I don’t want to live the way they do and have the disastrous relationships they’ve always had. I’m much happier being feminine. I take pride in NOT being a career woman. If anyone asks me I’ll simply tell them that I never believed women should really be out there working. We’re women, there’s no shame in being weak, or even unsuccessful for that matter. Being docile, being weaker, depending on a man, being soft and receptive are all feminine traits, and they are nothing to be ashamed of.

I think it’s better if us girls marry real young and stay under the protection and authority of a husband. It PROTECTS us. It keeps you from getting hurt by other men or swayed and it keeps women from running wild to their detriment and the detriment of families and children.

Is there really a better life to be had otherwise? So what if you marry real young and have a kid or two young and stay home? Are women really much happier screwing around and wasting their youth and beauty on men who don’t deserve them, don’t cherish or provide for them while they go pursue some meaningless career that won’t amount to anything true and real in the end?

While everyone likes and needs money, after a certain point, once your basic needs are met and you are comfortable, more money won’t make you any happier. Is the point of life really to make a six-figure salary especially when as a woman it’s not going to do anything for your sexuality or better your chances with anything other than some “weak” man who wouldn’t cherish you as a woman, for everything feminine and unique about you? And as a woman do you really want a man that needs or wants your money? A man who isn’t strong enough to provide for you or protect you, both from immediate danger and from the harshness of the world (which includes the burden of working out of the home)?

Yes, I have a paying job right now, but I don’t like the idea of it. Our daughter is moving into her preteen years (almost) so the burden of childcare isn’t what it once was, but just the simple fact that I have my own money means I don’t NEED my husband to provide. Yes, he provides for me still fully, but it feels more like I’m simply letting him do it, instead of truly relying on him and needing him to do it. I also know that I’m still needed at home. Who cares what the world thinks, a woman’s husband is supposed to be her authority. If she keeps the home and stays there, she only focuses on him. What others think doesn’t matter.

I get depressed at work. Thoughts keep running through my head that I should just go home and focus on the house and just be what I’ve always been, which is simply a wife and mother. I figure for now I’ll stay there as I’ve made friends and feel like I have a home away from home. I don’t know. I just figure I’ll stay unless or until they want to let me go or something happens in life where I know it’s truly time to quit and come home.

My husband does not like me working and does want me to come home. I’m not sure if I’m ready to come home though. I just don’t know. This is all very hard for me and very new. I just want to be the feminine woman I once was, keeping the home and loving my family with the same childlike innocence and demeanor that I always have, unconcerned about the outside world. I don’t care about independence. I don’t care about equal pay or any of the mainstream women’s rights bullshit. And I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of me. Their comments about me “getting a job” will not sway me, because I know who I am as a woman. As odd as it might seem, I don’t get into those kinds of conversations. There is no need. I just simply smile if anyone ever makes a comment about me having a career. I just simply let my femininity shine through and speak for itself. And trust me, men really don’t give a shit about your career, but they do care about your femininity.

Stop Doing the Dishes

For years I sat and watched as he failed. I tried and tried to support him in everything that he would do, yet grew more disheartened every time. When a man fails to lead, it’s pretty much the end of everything. He loses the woman’s trust and respect and his family disintegrates.

He thinks he could win over my affections by doing the dishes for me, cooking, or trying to act cool or something, but he doesn’t realize that I’m only repulsed by all of this. He sat and did nothing while I grew physically and mentally ill. I lost a bunch of hair, I became underweight and malnourished (I’m still borderline underweight, but that’s mostly due to high levels of physical activity that kept me from re-gaining, not sickness) and became so mentally distressed that I could barely function in day-to-day life. When I wanted him to get up and be a man, he instead sat down and became what I can only define as a pussyfied beta wimp. It’s like he completely missed that look of pleading and disgust in my eyes. I even told him to do something (about me actually) but he wouldn’t.

For a woman to lead, provide for, or protect a man is a violation of everything natural and right in the universe. As I’ve said for many years, there seems to be two worlds- the world of the internet and the real world. I was talking to a man last night (he honestly thought I was 19 years old, I told him he was my new favorite person). He, like you see so many men doing in the manosphere, was divorced and swore he’d never go back down that road and make that “mistake” again- yet he’s going to. That’s what happens when you love someone. He’s waiting on her right now to marry her, though personal circumstances are keeping them apart. He said to me that you don’t know how hard that situation is, and I hope you never find out (the particular circumstances being pretty bad). Of course, nobody knows about my personal life there. I keep it hidden in obscurity. They don’t know why I’m really there.

A man’s top priority should be to do what’s best for his family, even in difficult circumstances, but my husband never could do that. I came back to him, I gave him chances, yet he failed. And I know he failed because of cowardice. I’ve seen him do this so many times, forgoing jobs because of fear of having to travel or something, then making up excuses as to why we must stay in our current situation or giving me some bullshit line about why he didn’t get the job (it was their fault…I put option “c” and they didn’t like it). As many women know, it’s a letdown when a man fails to be a man. He chose to keep us in the same situation, even if it meant losing his wife and having his family torn apart. He chose to stay in his comfort zone instead of taking his family and going elsewhere or doing whatever else needed to be done.

I came home from work last night and he had done the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen (even though I had cleaned earlier in the day). I was absolutely repulsed. I hated him for it. I want a man, not a housemaid. It’s one thing for him to help out when I was sick, but if he thought I wanted him to split chores with me (he doesn’t expect me to pay the bills, I put all my money in savings for if I should need it) he was sorely mistaken. Not that telling him any of that would help. He doesn’t get it. He never has.

Nor would he ever pay attention when I tried to tell him what I needed and wanted, or ever pay attention to me much at all. I asked him to take me out once and all he said was “where do you want me to take you?” in an assholish way. I just cried and ran off, miserable and lonely. Last night he wrote on a piece of paper living expenses if we were to move, then came into the kitchen and put the piece of paper down on the table in front of me. I tore it up and threw it at him, telling him to get the **** out of my sight. I try to tell him of my pain and my needs and that he hasn’t been taking care of me and he always blows up at me for it, then puts all the blame on me for everything. He says he doesn’t understand me. I told him perhaps if he paid half as much attention to me as ************* did then maybe he might.

He becomes angry and belligerent when I point out that he has failed. If he becomes too angry, he grabs me by the neck and yells at me or holds me down. I scream at him to let me go, to get off of me, to which his only response is to yell at me to calm down and practically spitting in my face. It’s a horrible thing to feel trapped like that, with no option to get away and nobody that would ever help you or care for you. I know he gets angry like that because what I say is true. He even said himself that he has no excuses.

A man is supposed to lead, to protect, to be competent, yet I find myself writing essays for him for classes and telling him how to accurately spell words. He sees me suffering and being mentally abused and even harassed when I do simple things like even driving down the driveway, yet he could never remove us from the situation.

And I say all this not to vent, but to tell women- especially younger women- to be careful who you love (and yes I did love him). Be even more careful who you choose to have children with. I know I shouldn’t have come back to him, but I did. I gave him another chance. He made promises to change the situation and he failed- again. But I knew he would fail. I was only a teenager when we met. The truth was that he was a loser. He wasn’t smart or even cool (even he’ll tell you that much). But I didn’t know it. I was young and naïve, not realizing the power of what I had as a female between my legs and giving it away for little to nothing in return. When it was all said and done, I didn’t even want him anymore. But by that time I had locked myself down with a child and it was too late for me.

Especially young men, they will run girls into the ground and make themselves seem unattainable and like they’re something great, because they want what the girls have, and they’re doing what they think will allow them to get it. (Don’t believe it? Listen to any rap song, read the endless obsession on every site geared towards men out there and see how highly they strive for sex and affection from women.) In reality, they’re nothing special. It’s all a bargaining strategy; never let the other person know that what they have is something you really need or want because then they could demand a higher price for it (because you want it, and they have it, giving them the upper hand). In this case, for the girls, it would be a committed relationship or other forms of romance and love.

I stayed because of my daughter. I would still always hope his family could continue to be family to me even if I’m no longer with my husband, and I want my daughter to have the life growing up I never had. I would never take her from here because she deserves to have family. My mother’s relatives use the excuse that “we’re her family too.” I tell them that it’s just too bad. I will never live down there unless forced by circumstances and neither will my daughter. If they wanted to be family, they should have stuck around. They made their own choices.

But patriarchy is a good system, even if individual men might be evil or misguided. It’s supposed to be about children, family, and deeper bonding between men and women through commitment. But sometimes separation is necessary. Circumstances forced me to go out and make my own money. I don’t know if I’d ever be with another man or not, but I do wish to be. If a man does truly love a woman he wants to provide for her and protect her. There are good men out there and traditional men too, and working I get to see that, to see men who don’t think being a man means being abusive. Many of them are still chivalrous too, so long as the woman is receptive to it and willing to be led.

Perhaps one day I’ll be a housewife again fully. The deepest fulfillment is in bonding with a man. I don’t seek agency or independence. I’d rather give that up to depend on a man and follow his lead. But for now, I face heartbreak and pain. But I’ll always be that advocate for the traditional girl. Never fear, I’m not going anywhere.