Men can be a??holes….

Men can be a??holes…..


All. Too. Familiar.  😦


6 thoughts on “Men can be a??holes….

  1. Please keep in mind while there are plenty of a-hole men out there, it’s like the TV news: in most cases, bad news gets the most attention while the good news is genuinely overlooked. And the guy in this story… he should be surrounded by hazard cones.

    • LOL you always crack me up. I know there is a bitch woman for every asshole man. I’m just saying, I can relate to the feelings this wife felt. Unloved, unappreciated and lonely.

      I know there are good guys out there. There has to be right? I hope? I think…. LOL.

      • I understand, and didn’t take it as a rant, I promise 🙂 And I agree; no one should have to feel that way.

        And as for the good guys out there, keep the hope. In fact, I actually know a few 😉

  2. I bought my husband a package deal for hotel, tickets, transportation to a game being held at a certain stadium for the last time before it was torn down. Not even an “F” you for the effort. Not lying just saying men can be total a-holes.

  3. Hi, nice to meet you all. I’ve lurked for a long time and have been blessed and inspired by the words on this blog (and in the comments). I’ve never had anything more to offer you folks. But, because I feel like I understand the spirit of the community on this blog and because of the commitment to acceptance of different perspectives in this space, I feel compelled to offer up the Bitch perspective here, if you will…

    Once upon a time, after a very long stretch of work and very little time to decompress and get my head on straight, I breeze home to find a (cold) meal set out on the table with a single (wilted) red rose in a makeshift vase (a dirty drinking glass from the sink of the previous day’s unwashed dishes). My (now) ex-husband was standing at (sloppy) attention by the table anxiously awaiting my unwavering praise for his obvious contribution to making my day “happy”. With a self-important, smug grin on his face. I took all of it in for a brief second and I think I managed a look of disgust. Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I was too apathetic. Regardless, there was no lavish “thank you”, no kiss or hug for the effort, no “F-you”, no nothing. I went straight to a hot shower, kissed my kids and went to bed. Alone. Go ahead and think it…”Bitch”. He did. Posted my non-reaction on Facebook for his entire social circle to see. Cried to his friends, men and women, about his heartless and cold wife. Whined for days on end about how he was so disrespected and unloved at home when he does so much to make his wife feel special; like a Queen. I learned all this the next day. I just sighed. And went back to work.

    But, wait; there’s more. The Bitch has a story, too.

    The details would make your toes curl. Really, they would. But the nutshell version is that the butt-hurt ex-husband put me through many, many years of neglect. He liked to do things for show. To say “look how great and wonderful I am”. He didn’t make that meal for me; not really. He made it only so he could say he cooked for his wife. Suffer me one example, please. It’s the one that speaks the loudest for me. Flowers aren’t my thing. I’ve moved past hating them, to just overlooking them. The man knew why. I was in an abusive relationship for 3 years long before I met my (now) ex-husband. My abuser always apologized with red roses. After that entire experience, I never saw flowers as an expression of love. Still don’t. They are just…plants. Colored plants. That smell. Despite knowing that flowers of any kind, and especially red roses, are not on my vocabulary list of love language, my then-husband would buy flowers and leave them on the table for me. Then complain to all who would hear that I never said “thank you”. For the first few times, I reminded him of my painfully negative association with flowers and that it would mean so much more to me if he left a heart-felt note or a quick “I love you” post it. Or put my favorite ice cream in the freezer. Or brought me dinner while I was working so much overtime. Or worked extra himself so I could take a day off every now and then. I told him my love language. I gave him a blue print on how to treat me like a Queen. And he understood. He shared with me every year (at Christmas) the story of a very special tradition his grandparents had. His grandfather brought his grandmother her very favorite treat every year on Christmas Day. They could only afford it once a year early in their marriage, but even when they could afford it more often, it still remained their own special and sweet Christmas Day tradition.

    So the ex-husband knew what I needed and also saw in his grandparents a lifelong example of how to meet someone’s emotional needs, yet he continued to ignore what I needed and do it his way.
    Because he thought giving flowers made him look thoughtful. Because other girls like flowers. So I’m that Bitch.

    My point, you ask? Maybe the husband in the “Men are A??holes” story has a side, too. Maybe he isn’t cold and unfeeling. Maybe he’s tired of some charade, too, and an anniversary doesn’t make an empty gesture any more worthy of acknowledgement. Maybe that wife has done so little for so long that any attempts at effort (or a show of effort for the benefit of an audience) don’t move him anymore. Maybe he’s tired of her manipulation.

    But, then, maybe he is just an A??hole. Who am I to judge, really?

    • Thanks for your comment and I agree their are two sides to every story and we can all be assholes and bitches…. I’m not going to lie I was a bitch this morning, I was, and if he wants to blog about it and tell the world, fine by me, I’m not going to cry about it. Because I’m past he point of giving two shits.

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