Hermaphrodite men

Originally I was going to give this post the following title.

“So Annetta Mother Smith is going to marry a bastard”

Then I was going to name it “Love hard rather than hardly loved.”  

Why? Stick with me here, this is a classic case of Romanticism, but it helps me sleep at night.

I figured that my man will only be able to love me because I am a lot to handle, and he’ll have his hands full with me and therefore is likely to be an absolute twat to the rest of humanity. No one is perfect and as Nina Simone says, “ma baby just cares for me.” Which is all I want. In return he’ll get all of me, and that’s a lot of love. More love than most people see in their lifetimes, I’m sensitive because I love deeply. I also have really high standards. My parents actually loved one another and I come from a culture where that is rare, and so people don’t really know how to handle that. My mum is devastated at the loss of her husband at a time where most women in her position once they get over the shock of the death are much happier without their husbands. Meanwhile my parents where soulmates and had the closest thing I have seen to an ideal marriage. Especially by African standards.

The truth is that I am a hard nut to crack, more than most I have faced my own issues, a childhood filled with unsafe situations has got my fight or flight senses on steroids. The man that will talk me down from my ledge and lead me back into the land of the living is going to be quite the man. Remember, for me the way a man shows strength is through gentleness, not softness which we seem to have confused it with. I have met many soft men. I’m courting one now. Yes you heard it. I’m the one doing the bloody courting because someone must be the woman in this relationship and through some sort of divine punishment, he decided it would be him.

What I need is a man with…Balls. Yes, darlings the things that swing between a mans legs are important, we seem to have gelded an entire generation whilst magically the jackasses are still fertile? I don’t know if its modern society or microplastics in the womb messing with their testosterone levels but we've fucked up badly here. Women are working on “male energy,” pursuing, making plans etc… men meanwhile aren’t even passive participants. They’re just fucking lazy. Which leads to them “hardly loving” i.e. too weak to show any real emotion. Because emotion involves making a decision about how you feel about someone, and they are too polite to do that. Too pampered and pretty. I never thought I’d be saying “spare the rod spoil the child” but the rigour we instil in our men has made them incapable of emotion, they survive, limp and lifeless waiting passively for the next thrill or they go “starting shit” for themselves. Read “starting wars.” Dear God I am bored of these hermaphrodite men. Please send men with actual testosterone who enjoy being actual men, not women without a uterus. God save us all from this half grown half of each “metrosexuals” I am bored. You are boring.

I need hard love, I need to be loved completely and wholly. My husband is a 1 in 100 billion because he’s going to be the one, I love and loves me. I’m going to feel safe around him to let all the sides of me out. The wife, the adventurer, the scholar, the sexy beast, the mother, the mentor, the lover, the friend. I can and will only be all those things once I am safe in the arms of a strong, decent man who loves me with a fierceness. All the safety I have been craving my whole life, with my husband I will find finally a relationship where I am safe, we care of nothing in this world but each other and the children we will make, there is a realness and a rawness to love that is so solid and it is in that firmness and strength that I put my trust.  

The bible verse I’m feeling right now is Genesis 2 vs 24.

“This explains why a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one.”

This isn’t a verse about sex. this is a union of the body and mind and spirit. You will become one. Your defining feature, your outer boundary is of love.  That is why they put Husband, Father, Son  and Brother on your tombstone when you die. Who you love and how you loved them is the only thing that matters in this world, and it takes love, hard work and grit. I’m not doubting most men’s ability to love, I wonder about the shallowness of their emotion, their commitment to hard work and their grit. I need all 3 I can no longer be satisfied by pretty words, pretty flowers, and pretty men. Nice bores me. Why? Because I’m not nice. I’m kind, there’s a difference. Also, would it kill for me to be actually attracted to this man?? Sometimes I feel like it would end the world as we know it if I found a man who I am attracted to body mind and soul.

 This man will be able to make me safe in my own body, encourage me to be safe in my own head (my current enemy) he’ll have a hell of a lot of work to do on helping me heal. I don’t believe in sexual healing and as someone who faced regular sexual assault as well as rape its not something I’d want. Marvin Gaye fucked us all royally when he wrote that ridiculous song. Idiots of both sexes have been attesting to it ever since. Its complete BS. Men think a woman’s vagina will magically heal the fact that “daddy was never home” but it’s a crass outlook on life that puts undue pressure on a woman. How come a woman is never healed by the joy she finds in a mans dick? Because sexual healing isn’t a thing, guys. You’ve been robbed.

Only deep love can recognise deep love and I have a lot of love to give. I also have a lot of pain and trauma to heal, and I will spend the rest of my life healing that, I am on a journey that I expect no help from the outside. It needs to come from me. However, in their capacity as my helper, my husband will know more about me than any human being living. He will understand my thoughts and dichotomy on my parents, my hopes and dreams for my children, my deep-seated fears that will be a part of his day-to-day reality, in the same way as his will become a part of mine. He will need to learn how to approach me and how to touch me, as I have walls about 100 feet high. I don’t like being touched if I am not 100% trusting of the situation and the person. I crave intimacy of the mind not the body, the body isn’t safe. You can’t be slut shamed on the internet for your mind. Who is going to take naked pictures of your mind? A brain scanner? I consume people quickly and therefore get bored easily (of the shallow wells that grace my internet pages.) a man who is hard is a man who has seen trials and survived and thrived. A man who I need in my life has oceans of compassions and yet only drops of bullshit tolerance. A man who I need in my life is tender not soft. He wields great strength and knows how to use it, both physically, mentally and emotionally. That is what tenderness is, the ability to cherish that which is different to you. That is what gentleness is, the ability to resist the initial urge to crush your enemies and believing that anything that isn’t you is your enemy. That’s what weak people do. When their shallowness comes out. When their dogmas come out, I check out.

Modern men seem obsessed with sex, but yet have not emotionally matured since 12 years old. If I behaved in the same way as a man when it came to sex, I’d be put in a mental institution. This predatory, perverted, distorted view of a simple activity where it becomes an obsession. As I just said, dogmas scare me. People who are dogmatic don’t see reason. People who subscribe to the cult of sex or the cult of sexual gratification are quite terrifying when you open your eyes to it. Women selling their bodies to reach “sexual estasy” because obviously there is nothing better in life than getting a man to ride you. Men who prey on women to have sex with them. I’m going to write that sentence again, with one vowel switched out. Men who pray on women to have sex with them. Using religion as a means of control. What “Christian men” do to women his horrendous, again it’s the “maiden and the whore” archetype which is a narrow way to view a whole human being. But what irritates me beyond belief is what comes after sex. NOTHING. It is seen as an end to itself, 15 minutes of pleasure (if you are inordinately fortunate) being naked in front of a complete stranger, literally and emotionally and there is NOTHING after it. No commitment promise is made on having sex. The yanks talk about “soul ties” and I believe it, it is genuinely dangerous. Essentially the reason the modern Christians don’t have sex before marriage is because it creates “soul ties” i.e. you bond with the person you are having sex with. Which we all know is a universal truth, that is why one night stands are so corrosive, in that situation, one person always cares more and is bound to get hurt. So we know and have known that “soul ties” exist and have existed for thousands of years, its just a new name for an old concept. But there is nothing after sex. No happily ever after that wouldn’t have been there if you hadn’t been in such a hurry to get your clothes off. White men tend to marry the women they have sex with if they are in love with them. Black men absolutely don’t. Familiarize yourself with that fact. Do not question it. I don’t make up the rules. I simply state them. But if a white man is not in love with you and he has sex with you, he will discard your ass too. Modern relationships dictate (apparently, I have never gotten that far) that 3 dates means sex. You don’t know this Motherfucker but you are having sex??? I have spoken often and passionately about this. It is utter madness which only benefits the emotionally pre-pubescent because it means they have to spend minimum amounts of money before getting what they ultimately want. Why the hell did the rest of decent society allow them to stack the deck in their favour? I’ll tell you why. Because you don’t rise to the occasion you sink to your training, and we stopped training people in mental and emotional discipline years ago. Now we preach instant gratification and act like we’re the top of the food chain and completely forget that there will always be someone bigger and more hungry than us to eat us alive. You are never too big to be eaten. Even killer whales get eaten by bacteria when they die.  We used to think religion was a method of control. And it was. However now we have discarded God and in his place we have…ourselves. But we aren’t the almighty, we just think we are and we fall so often into the really easily laid traps that it is sad and pathetic. Once you’ve had sex on date 3 and s/he dumps you on date 4 how do you cope? I’m embarrassed for you. You stripped naked for someone who you haven’t even had 24 hours consistent company with. Well done. He spent £75 on you over those 3 dates, to get free sex. If he’d have paid a hooker he’d have spent more money.

I have often been told when I see people making seriously fucked up decisions “You have never been in love” this is true, I haven’t. I learnt to love with my head rather than my heart a long time ago. My survival instincts are strong and they are what have gotten me where I am. Where I am is a mixture of what I wanted when I was an adolescent (to be my own best friend and provide safety for myself as I didn’t find it in others) as well as wholly fucking miserable. I never intended to be alone at 30. If all my plans had worked  I would have been a wife and a mother by now.(not with my ex husband someone else.) But when man makes plans the Gods laugh and I have long since learnt not to make plans. My head and giving myself safety at all times is the thing of paramount importance to me. You don’t understand. Ever heard of homeostasis? Even on a physical level I struggle with it. When I get cold I can’t warm up. I sit in the UK every winter…freezing. Quite literally, I can take showers, I can run, I can have hot drinks. I can’t stay warm. Hence, I crave heat. I can cool down just fine but not heat myself up. I digress. Safety. As well as passion seem to be the 2 things I seek in a husband. He has to bring safety (literally his job as husband) so I can be free to be who I am naturally… A passionate person. A curious person. An adventurous person, whether its travel, sex, family, etymology, writing, social justice, science and whole host of different topics I need to be free to spread my wings but I can’t do that without a safe place to land. The safe place to land is in my husband’s arms and in his heart.

Modern relationships aren’t relationships at all. They are transactions and everyone is selling themselves short. Step up to the plate. Have some courage. Stand for something or you will fall for anything. But ultimately if you want to sit on the fence and be non offensive, then please do so on your own time.

Grace and Courage.

Annetta Mother Smith.