Barbaric strong men

May 3, 2010 by Lena Potapova    2 Comments    Posted under: Life

I have an urge to write about the Emotionally Undergifted Strong Man. This man has had my curiosity, attention and irritation for a couple years now.

He is a commander, a savage, an entitled user of men and especially, women. He rules gloriously and dies alone – assuming that his midlife crisis hasn’t made him into a born-again searcher for luv. He is brave, adventurours and stubborn. Cunning, too. He builds empires from drafts in his mind and feeds on the energy of his supporters.

One time, my ex and I celebrated New Year’s Eve at a downtown Moscow restaurant. It was closed to public. He and I had broken up that fall but we missed each other and made last minute plans to meet on NYE and take our chances.

Everything was booked. We roamed around the city for some time and then knocked on a random restaurant’s door. The owner, an old Georgian guy, opened the door and let us in. He welcomed us with an generous heart, poured us wine and offered us food. All night, he talked about his wife. His stories really struck me. He told us that he loved her so much. He told us how he had slept with all her girlfriends and treated her like nothing special, then suddenly a change came and he became faithful and blah. How he put her on a pedestal, started spending money on her like crazy, all that. I remember thinking: “Wow, and she tolerated all that?”

I am not in the business of judging other people’s life stories. Everybody is different. Some women don’t care enough which allows them to effortlessly filter everything men do to them, as long as they get the prize in the end. All is fair in darwinism. Other women kill themselves over being treated by men as a trophy. By the way, according to one of the surveys I read suicide rate among the wives of new Russians is unusually high. I guess, everyone is hungry for love.

I don’t think there is a right way or a wrong way to get love but I know one thing – the joy of tagging along is not for me. My happiness wants harmony.

That said, I greatly admire emotionally defective alphas from a distance and I love it when they need me. I accept the fact that to them, the most important person in the world is them and I base my decisions on that.

They always lead, and they are rarely faithful. At least, once they are past their puberty and before they have  reached their sappy old age.

These men make other people make the wheel of history turn. They look good in book and films. They rather suck in person. They view everybody as their helpers and as much as I admire the skill of making the world go round anywhere I see it, my response to their invitation to jump on their altar is: “Suck this!”

Somewhere in my mind, I want to make history in other ways. The feminine ways, perhaps – the ways that allow everybody to be fulfilled. That thing.

Feeling compassion towards these men can be dangerous. From the place of strength, I find their bullishness insanely cute and infinitely curious. But I know that if I swing by a place of weakness, I am a goner.  They do take prisoners but who wants to be in prison? I know their worth and make my choices accordingly.  All is fair in darwinism.

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