024 23a 200x300 Readers comment pisses Lee off

If he could have, he would have breast feed

In response to the article, Your Side of the Bed or Mine, desani4deri wrote:

“i think women can present more intimacy than man can do…think about our mother. “

Lee says:  When I responded to this comment, I focused on the post topic of intimacy in relationship and specifically on a man’s ability to be intimate.  Here, we will continue to respond but focused on the concept of women having a corner on the intimacy market.

Even as a woman, I really find this comment offensive.  She asks me to remember my mother.  Now I adore my mother and she is a hell of a woman but as a child, I received more intimacy and affection from my father.  My mother was the law giver and disciplinarian and my Daddy was “fun time guy”. My father would provide us the hugs and hair tussles that my mother felt would diminish her authority over us.  My mother took care of us when we were sick and handled all of our necessities but the love came from our father.  Only as a mother now, do I understand the pressures and psychology behind my mother’s lack of physical contact.  She was afraid.  But that is another post for another day.

I believe perpetuating the myth that men are not intimate is the basis for the belief that a mother is a better parent and a woman carries a relationship.  I’m not trying to be P.C.. I have seen some shitty fathers and I have seen some exceptional fathers.  I have seen some magnificent husbands and I have planned the murder of some horrible ones.  My opinion is based on what I see as discrimination.  Men always receive the short end of the feeling stick (also another blog post). 

I think men are wonderful creatures that have as much capacity to feel as we do, ladies.  Our underestimation and assumptions are behind this opinion that men are robotic and only interested in nailing their conquests.  Yes there are many men who are quite crippled in the area of love and as women we need to take responsibility for crippling or adding to their dysfunction. 

Paul says: As you can tell, this is somewhat of a hot topic for Lee and I. You’ll be seeing variations on this issue in future posts. For me, it all boils down to this ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus’ crap. Sorry folks, but we are all from Earth. There may be differences across the genders but we were all socialized by a community of men and women. I hug my children but we also wrestle. I kiss my wife’s neck, cuddle in bed, and give her a Dutch oven when I can. From the passionate to the stinky, these are all forms of intimacy. I wonder how many people out there would understand that.

Lee’s response: Dutch ovens are not intimate. They’re just gross.

sharebookmarx Readers comment pisses Lee off

mama love I’ll Choose Love for a 200 AlexLast week’s post on Thursday regarding relationships like corporations wasn’t very romantic.  But let’s face it, society has built up love and couplings to be this biochemical explosion that can only be understood with a periodic table and a Bunsen burner.  People talk about “having chemistry” with someone else as if that is the litmus test for all attraction.  If they aren’t using scientific terms for pairing up with someone, then it becomes some magical mumbo jumbo of how a person saw fireworks or heard the perfect sonata when “the one” kissed them.

We’re here to say that is all wrong.  We are here to tell you that these are some of the reasons the wrong people hook up and the right people break up.  Things are all hunky dory in the land of perpetual sunsets when the endorphins are rushing and your pupils are dilated but when someone needs to take out the trash, the shit hits the fan! 

Lee says:  If you would have asked me what I thought of Paul the night I met him I would have told you he was a nice guy, too skinny and what the hell was he wearing.  Paul was a quiet guy back then (oh, for the good old days).  He was also in a relationship so off limits.  I had no sparks, no music and I no chubby cherub had us in their cross hairs.   I noticed him when we started talking.  Not just small talk but the kind of conversation you dream about where the person you are conversing with can keep up with your stream of consciousness. I always tell people that, before he laid a finger on me, he had fucked my brain.  He was intelligent and witty.  He could keep up with me on any topic and for a smart girl that is a big deal (am I right ladies?).    

          So here we are 21 years later and I tell you he still has my brain and the rest of me as well.  But what about those annoying things or what about when things aren’t the way I like it?  This is where I employ the best device I have discovered in all our years together.  I usually look at him and say to myself “I’m choosing to love you right now.”  I know it’s corny but it works. 

          People do some stupid shit and sometimes we want them to do things that just don’t hold the importance to them as it does to us.  Are they supposed to succumb to all our whims and become someone that they aren’t?  In our fucked up magical love universe they should.  Paul should have known that leaving dishes in the sink without at least rinsing them was an abomination to me.  Paul should have known that I expected him to be as obsessive about personal hygiene as I am.  Paul should have figured out by now that clothes don’t magically jump out of the dryer and end up in your drawers.

          We didn’t fall in love with them because they would fold clothes or load a dishwasher.  It wasn’t the synapses firing or the 1812 Overture.  It wasn’t all the chocolate you ate which released all those yummy neurochemicals mixed with someone playing “Feelings” in the background.  It was because at some point you looked at that person and said “I want to be with you.”  You looked past all of their imperfections and stared into their heart and said “this one is for me.” 

          When the one you love fails to meet your expectations of how things should be done, take a second and choose to love them.  When they don’t read your mind or share how they are feeling, take a minute and choose to love them.  When you are washing and folding clothes a few times a week knowing that if you left it up to the apes that you happen to call your family they would all wear the same stinky clothes, you look at them and say “I am choosing to love you!”   I wonder how many relationships would have survived if one the partners would have said that?   

          Paul says: I don’t know what she’s talking about, folks. I’m perfect and she has never needed to make a choice.

          Lee responds: I’m choosing to love you right now!

sharebookmarx I’ll Choose Love for a 200 Alex

intimacy1 300x227 Your side of the bed or mine

No, this isn't us

First of all, I feel that people should be shot in the head if they call sex, “making love”.  I think our new wonderful president should enact a law or even an amendment calling for immediate castration if someone refers to the act of boning as other than that.  Instead of making love, we will use terms like “sex”, “fuck”, “doing it”, “getting some”, “buttering the pancakes”.  I fell that this sweeping legislation will almost immediately ebb the raging divorce rate in this country.

After 20 years of marriage, I can safely say Paul and I are very intimate.   Most people will confuse intimacy and sex which is why we have such a high divorce rate and some people date like serial killers on a spree.  Intimacy is the sharing of vulnerability.  It is creating a level of honesty that only you two share.  Now I know that many of you are saying, “Lee, WTF!  Vulnerability, honesty, serial killers?  This shit isn’t funny and it makes me feel weird in my stomach!”  Relax people!  Paul and I are committed to sharing our pearls of wisdom of how this relationship has worked and it will only pinch a little bit. 

Why you ask?  Because we’re confusing love with sex!  We are confusing intimacy and bonding with a few minutes of grunting with several Oh my Gods at the end!  For those of you not convinced, I want you to close your eyes and think of the last time you had your bell wrung and answer this, did you create a deep intimacy or did you just bump uglies?  I would rather hide the salami than make love to him.  It’s sexier and, truth be told, after 20 years, a little dirty is very good.

I make love to my husband when we talk to each other. I make love to him every single day, not the occasional Saturday if there isn’t anything on T.V..  We share our feelings.  We’re honest with each other.  We let our partners into that part of ourselves that we deem too scary to share with the world.  This is how we create intimacy.  This is how we make love.  It sounds grosser than it really is.  We tend to laugh a whole lot when we are being intimate.  There are the occasional tears but mostly it’s a reaffirming that this is the only person I ever want to be with.

Let’s face it there have been times when we couldn’t have sex because of illness, pregnancy or other natural disaster.  And, we know there may come a day when one of us just won’t be able to do it.  So then what?  No more intimacy?   Is that it?  We have a back up plan.  How about you?    

          Paul’s comments: Do you feel dirty? Kind of voyeuristic? You should because you are watching us in an intimate moment. This whole blog site is a function of our intimacy: the banter of our inner thoughts, the running hand-in-hand through the cyber-fields of our musings. Keep reading. Maybe we’ll get a webcam.

          Lee responds: Hand in hand?  Baby, that ain’t my hand.

sharebookmarx Your side of the bed or mine

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