"First fart."
Well, how can I avoid this topic when each of us has gone through it. We are not fairies and have no different intestines from men.
Although I didn’t think so before and was very worried. One day, after a hearty dinner at my ex-boyfriend’s place, I asked to go home while watching a movie. I was worried that as soon as the session ended, there would be silence and my musical stomach would play Mozart.
– Stay, it will be fun. I also have a good French comedy.
“There will be a good comedy when my butt puts on a concert,” I quipped in my mind.
– I can’t, I’m sorry, my cat… was poisoned by something and has diarrhea. We need help. – “Lord, what am I talking about?” But, I must admit, the associations are appropriate at such a moment.
As a result, I carefully hid from each guy that I was a man. And who am I? Fairy, no less. Girls can't fart, poop, or stink. Girls should smell like lilies of the valley.
But as luck would have it, the epiphany came with just the man I wanted to marry.
We went to my place after another light dinner to meet our friends.
In my apartment, the four of us sat comfortably on the sofa, smoked through the window, drank wine and discussed philosophical topics. Everything was going as well as possible when suddenly something interrupted the conversation.
I looked incredibly beautiful that evening, perfect makeup, new dress, correct speech, no reason to discover that I was a farm guy.
You know the sound like your pants bursting? Crackling sound throughout the room.
And suddenly there was silence. Everyone fell silent. I am surprised by the resilience of my friends and men. Nobody even blinked an eye. Not a single muscle moved on their faces. After a couple of seconds, they continued to enthusiastically talk about female and male disagreements, something from the category of everyday philosophy of the sexes.
But I knew that I couldn’t help but confess. She ran to the toilet in horror. A minute later, my gentleman was already standing near the door and asked to talk to him. I opened.
– Everything is fine? How are you
– What a shame, what a shame. God, I must have eaten something wrong.
(he didn’t yet know that over the next nine years I ate something wrong many times, poor fellow).
– Come on, stop it, it happens to everyone.
– Well, how so, not in society…
– Come on, they all did it. And I. Girls are not unicorns who eat flowers and poop rainbows. You are people just like boys. We are all cut from the same cloth. Relax.
In general, he calmed me down then. I returned to the room, blushing, and no one neighed like a horse; my friends steadfastly supported me, exhaling tobacco smoke through the window.
Since then, there has not been a moment when I didn’t remember this incident without laughing wildly. Even now I burst into tears before typing.
You know, I am writing this story to the whole world and I understand that someone needs to relax the girls. My dears, I tell you with complete confidence that if a man loves you, then he doesn’t care that you are not perfect.
Maybe you shouldn’t spoil the air at the first opportunity, but you won’t be able to pretend to be a princess all your life. Sooner or later, a moment of epiphany will come: either he will get scared and run away, or you will realize that he loves you as you are, with flaws.
Here's another story from my mom. My parents divorced, as you remember, but even in their thirtieth year of marriage they were still strangers.
I remember how the three of us sat in front of the TV and sometimes exchanged remarks about what we saw, when suddenly a crackling sound escaped my mother.
I looked into her eyes in surprise. She panicked, pretending to be a princess, and put her finger to her lips, saying, don’t say anything, don’t let your father know. I turned my gaze to him, there really was indifference, he was absorbed in the colored box.
I look at my mother again, asking “why.” And then she burst out, she began to shake with laughter, squeezing it inside herself as hard as possible, which only made the laughter intensify. I couldn’t look at it indifferently and went into another room to laugh heartily. Can you imagine the level of constriction among Soviet women? By the age of fifty or sixty, one still convinces oneself that she is not a person, but a unicorn.
That is, a woman with a woman can be frank, herself. And only with a close woman. But with the man they are complete strangers.
I can imagine what was going on in their bedroom. I'm not surprised that dad started having problems. They both didn't want to acknowledge their bodies. It is not permissible to do things that are so natural for a person in fear, so the situation looks absurd.
Well, I once heard a wise man say:
– Do you know how to understand whether one loves the other?
– No.
– If he does not feel disgust when his beloved has earthly manifestations. Here is a girl vomiting, and a guy gives her water. The guy has diarrhea, and his madam is cleaning the toilet after him.
– Wow. Strongly.
– I saw how in a restaurant on the eve of the wedding the bride had doubts and conducted this test for herself. She watched her beloved all evening, and everything was fine until the pasta hung on his chin.
They never got married. She didn't love him.
– Wow.
I was then impressed by this story and used it in my life.
My neighbor and friend Valery didn’t like to wash his T-shirts, and he constantly smelled of sweat, his eyes could get streaky, and his breath smelled like onions.
And do you know how I realized that the girl he started living with loved him? I made sure that she had no problems with smell and vision.
Yes. Exactly. Anna perfectly felt all the smells of her boyfriend, saw the untidiness, but she was not disgusted by it. She remained gentle and caring. This is Love. I was truly happy when they got married.
When my man got off the train after that breakup at the beginning of our relationship, he also smelled like two days of mild unwashed hair, but I wasn’t disgusted. This all comes into the background when you love.
Of course, a girl teaches a guy to take care of himself; with us, men become a tasty morsel. That’s why other girls hang themselves on them, because we have ennobled our beloved ones.
If you have met an ideal man, it means he has already been ennobled by some woman and, most often, not his mother.
It's rare that a mother can make her son attractive. Only if she is not a model or an actress, or another woman of art.
A smart, loving woman makes a truly delicious-smelling, clean, ironed, combed, and confident man.
Yes, the stronger sex will forgive me, I really think so. You change us by exactly the same amount. We become smarter and present ourselves more confidently in society if we are energized by our wise man.
If there is a lion next to you, then you are a lioness. Do you understand? A couple becomes many times (and not in total) more powerful if the people in it admire each other and guide each other.
As soon as everyone is on their own (or worse, criticism begins), that's it, the end of love and everything is lost.
Since then, we have farted in front of each other many times, broken down, blushed, but never stopped loving.
So, the chapter is sad
"Goodbye, friends"
Oh girls. It was not for nothing that I started this book. I miss you, my lifelong friends. I've watched the series and both Sex and the City movies eleven or so times, and every time I imagine I'm their fifth friend.
Yes, since my man and I got together, I no longer had close friends, women with whom I could share everything, until now. I finally broke through. I decided to speak out, pour out all my experiences, knowledge, and experience onto you.
Well, I hope to become for you the very one that you don’t have, a friend due to the misfortune of not having girlfriends. It's a pun, but it's the honest truth.
After those gatherings in my apartment, I spent more and more time with my boyfriend. He instructed me on how to negotiate with professors at university to ensure I received a pass or a good grade. I studied. He took me to the movies and restaurants. I gave him massages and listened to grandiose ideas at night.
When he left for his daughter, he left me money so that I wouldn’t die of hunger, and I spent all my free time studying and working. Sofia, my neighbor, then stopped understanding my joy. And we've run out of common topics to talk about.
About a week later, one of the friends made up a story. Listen, this is generally a movie and the Germans.
She saw somewhere a man, wildly similar to mine, with another woman. Then she found out from her friend of a family friend (a friend of a family friend – that’s what I call acquaintances through the fifth generation, well, someone very close, but for some reason authoritative for use in dubious stories) that it turns out that this is a womanizer. In addition, he is allegedly married to a Karelian woman and cannot be from the south. Well, or he simply deceives even his wife, which is even worse, because then I am simply a victim of deception, and maybe fraud.
“Just what should you charge me?” – I thought then.
– Margarita, be careful. Such a handsome and smart man cannot be alone. Find out what he really needs from you.
– Okay, dear, thank you very much.
And I plunged into thought, what kind of manipulations was my man carrying out, what was it about me that I needed to pull off a whole scam?
I remain silent, I don’t call him all day, I don’t respond to messages. I'm angry and nervous. “What a bastard. Deceiver. Womanizer. Little bastard! Why the penny-pincher? Yes, because there is nothing to take from me. A couple of clothes, used furniture and my parents’ old TV.” I had nothing then. Besides, why did he need to give me food when he was leaving?
These questions brought me into conscious reality. I wasn’t anything special in terms of material values; I couldn’t even get a ransom for me if he stole me into his harem. The parents barely survived on their own in order to raise money for their daughter, who was now time to get married. I think they would even buy a pie and celebrate over a cup of tea that finally their second daughter was useful to someone. (Well, they just stopped hoping for the first one).
You laugh, but it's true. I have charm, charisma, intelligence, a little beauty, but I’m definitely not a Rockefeller, and then I was an ordinary poor student. If he wanted, as they say, to fuck him up and quit, then you know, I didn’t have any special skills in bed. There were a lot of predators in the city for men like Vladislav, and they were clearly more skilled than me.
So, realizing the absurdity of the situation, I brushed it aside and invited my beloved to visit. We spent the entire evening discussing the topic of girlfriends. At first they laughed, of course, then they seriously considered the influence of the female environment on the female, who found herself a worthy male.
– What if he cheats?
– Married.
– Maniac
– Gay.
– Lesbian. (well, okay, that doesn’t happen).
– Polygamist
– Special services officer, spy
– Criminal, hiding
And so on, as far as your imagination goes, no one can compete with the girls here.
Imagine, this is just one friend, and I have already fallen under the influence and almost lost my future husband.
What would have happened if they had started to advise me against a relationship with him.
You know, fortunately, this never happened again. But something else appeared.
I noticed that when I told my friends about my boyfriend, about the relationship, I did two things.
First: she praised him and admired him so much that she looked biased, and the conversation came to a dead end. The girls simply didn’t comment on anything. It turned out that I was deprived of interlocutors.
Second: I still told them some details that raised questions or strange thoughts in me. Then they entered into a lively conversation. But it turned out that I myself provoked them to dislike my man. As a result, I was all screwed up, and my relationship with him deteriorated again.
It turns out there was no way I could be friends with women anymore.
And then who should I tell everything to, with whom should I share intimate details, sores, constipation, excuse me, dreams, worries, what makes me angry and what makes me happy?
But it turns out that WITH HIM!
Yes, and at this moment it is precisely to check how mature the love between you and your boyfriend is. Is he ready to become your friend, and not just your lover? Is he ready to replace your friends and become, in some way, that same friend?
Yes, my man, he did. Not in everything, but for nine years I forgot about girls. We still keep in touch on social media, but we no longer see each other or communicate truly openly.
I have had women throughout my marriage with whom I shared frank things, but it was rather their job to listen to me and guide me in the right direction. Perhaps you know who I mean. “Counselor”, “mentor” and the like. But I couldn’t help them in the opposite direction, that’s not how it’s supposed to be. Anyway, thanks to them for such work, there were times when I needed them, and my husband could not help in any way.
There were those with whom I wanted to be friends, and my husband didn’t mind, he respected these women, and even recommended them himself, but nothing worked out.
Do you know why?
Every time you complain to your friend about your husband, she falls into a trap. If he supports him, he will lose you. Will support you, the marriage will upset you.
And when my potential girlfriends found themselves in these awkward situations, they immediately washed their hands. I don't blame them. Many married women have this problem. Even when a married woman is friends with the same others, this is a very dangerous path, the risks are absolutely the same. And either you are being disingenuous to each other and not answering honestly the question directly posed, or you risk worsening your understanding with your husband if you are more frank with someone else than with him.
– Does your husband have times when it’s not worth it?
– Well, yes, it happens to everyone.
– Mine doesn’t.
– Damn, I guess I have a problem.
That's it, you got it. This amounts to betrayal. Yes, honestly. Do not laugh. Men will perceive this exactly the same as if you slept with his best friend.
Well, maybe not like that, but something like that.
Or another option:
– Does your husband have times when it’s not worth it?
– No, what are you talking about?
– Damn, I guess I have a problem.
And then you look at how your friend is suffering, looking for a solution, proving that he has early impotence, begging to go to the doctor, quarreling with him, crying that he left her.
Somehow like this.
No, of course you can still have casual small talk. You can communicate superficially about the weather, the pandemic, English courses, and so on. You can communicate deeply on personal topics without touching men, but not for long, it usually ends quickly.
And yet, it is a huge mistake when the targets are not husbands, because experience has taught them “impotence-doctor-divorce,” but children.
Lord, poor children. Here:
– Mine went to the sports section today.
– Wonderful! And mine learned to draw.
– Great, mine doesn’t draw at all, just scribbles.
– Nothing. He will learn. But mine is so plump that I’m also thinking about taking her to sports.
And so on. You know, blah blah blah. If children were as independent as their fathers, they would have long ago given the country coal for constantly washing their bones.
So here it is. I really appreciate women. But we cannot communicate lively and openly only on the topic of health, husband and children.
If hormones control the female consciousness and this is the only fate destined for us, then I wash my hands of it.
That's it, the book is finished, thank you all.
But, we are intellectual beings. We are smart, responsible, purposeful. We are well versed in many areas. I especially noticed that a woman can compete with men in marketing, PR, sales, management, finance and medicine. Maybe we are worse as engineers and astronauts, but that’s also debatable.
So it turns out that there are still topics for a lively conversation? Or do we do all this in order not to think about men, sex and children?
I smile.
Yes, the motive is different.
Do you understand?
Men do this for the sake of self-affirmation, financial independence, and freedom.
Women, so as not to think and chat with friends about men, children and sex.
What if the most carefree among us, who does not want to give birth, get married, or have sex, simply builds a career and finally accumulates enough money in the bank to fly on a passenger flight into earth orbit, and maybe into space?
What topics do you think she will talk about with her friends?
Not at all. She will be friends with men. Dot.
This is my theory. You may not agree with her, but no matter how insignificant it may sound, I still work and study for many hours a day to quench the thirst for having friends and chatting with them. I have enough husband to communicate about business and our common plans, sometimes health and that’s it.
My theory is also confirmed by the fact that even now I am writing for you, restoring the line of communication with women of the world, looking for friendship and support, chatting over a cup of aromatic tea on the topic of sex, health, children and men.
And this is interesting to you. And me too. This is fine. There is no need to be ashamed of this.
And if we want to go into space, then we’ll start making friends with men (this is not forbidden for a while).
Do you understand?
Hope so. I truly love, appreciate and respect you. This is our nature. It's not bad.
Now I will tell you another case about a friend, it is a little different from the others. This is a story of selfishness, so I will introduce it into this book just to make you aware that this also happens.
The same childhood friend who encouraged me to deflower early was already living with a guy by the time I started my first serious relationship.
Every weekend, while going to work (and I deliberately walked across the city for forty minutes to keep my muscles toned), I listened to her stories about unhappy relationships. Either they fight, then they make up, then her ex confesses his love to her, and she is confused about what to do. I, as a faithful friend, helped to figure it out, listened, gave advice, and tried to support.
One fine day I was telling her about my man and in response I heard a couple of neutral remarks, and then again an epic story about how the guy was allegedly cheating on her.
This alarmed me greatly, but I forgave.
The next time it happened again.
"Strange. She's the one who doesn't believe in me. He doesn’t believe that since I didn’t have a single worthwhile novel until I was twenty-three, this one won’t work out either. He thinks that I’m flighty, and there’s no point in wasting energy listening to my relationships, because it’s all in vain?”
Instead of asking her this question, I waited a little longer.
Then she stopped communicating.
That same year I moved to Krasnodar, and my boyfriend made me happy every day, we lived happily and we managed to be a couple so much that mutual friends called me husband and wife.
And my friend called me again with a story about the latest problems. And as always, I listened.
At night I had a nightmare, something connected with a friend and her problems, I woke up in a cold sweat, sobbing and shaking from the experience.
Then my husband said:
– Drop her. This is not a friend, but some kind of vampire.
– But I can’t, she’s a FRIEND.
– Look at you. Are you sure? – and I looked in the mirror. The reflection screamed “either you or you.” And I realized that my childhood friend had changed a lot, and perhaps she had always been like this. Selfish and hysterical.
– Fine. I'll quit.
That same day we performed a “ritual of exorcism.” I wrote to her that I didn’t want to hear about her problems anymore. She composed a whole canvas, where she painted in all colors her resentment, how selfish I am (please note). Such people usually blame others for what they themselves do to the fullest. She wrote that I couldn’t leave her, that she needed me and that it was all my boyfriend’s fault for quarreling between us.
He copied Edita's message and sent it back to her.
It was cool. I didn't have to invent anything. We simply turned her own words around to her, like a mirror.
Since then, I really cut her out of my life. Unfortunately, many of our mutual friends remained on her side. She put me in front of them in a bad light, and I didn’t fight back. Anyway, even then I decided that for some time I would give up such a thing as close female friendship.
I gave you these two examples so you can see the difference.
Edita turned out to be so selfish that I would have broken up with her in any case, even if I remained single.
And I broke up with other friends because of myself. I would not be able to maintain the warmth of communication without dooming them to the trap described above. Just like any of us. If you are friends, then you clearly understand the risks. The influence of non-marriage is inevitable. Is your partner ready for this?
Mine is ready now. Our marriage is mature and the relationship is strong, so that I plunge into friendship with the entire female world.
But, to be honest, I will never let people in who wish me harm and who are not interested in me. I won’t let you come within cannon shot range.
The rest are very happy.