What? So sue me…
So, today, I wrote a post over in my LJ in which I wondered about an eerie fascination some women folk have with a character I play who is a seriously nasty piece of work and is not the type of person- fictional or real- that women should find….er…sexy. Ever. Yet, for some reason I do not quite grasp, they do.
And but whom should I end up talking about this phenomena (aside from Rootie) with but, well, Hugo. I asked him what his take on the Women Liking Bad Boys and Feeling They Could Fix Them theory was, as well as the White Knight who Feels He Can Save the Weak/Needy or Fallen Woman. Hugo has written on these things before and pointed me towards some of his posts, which are good, and interesting, and I am linking them.
Go read them. THEN come back here….
You DID read them, yes? There may be a quiz later you know…
So then, well before too, the old noodle got to churning and an amazing realization dawned in my pasta like grey matter:
One, yep, this whole routine is sexist, because well, it assumes women by nature fall into caretaker, “I have so much love to give”, nurturer roles or damsel in distress roles, and men fall into “bad boy” roles or I need to rescue and protect roles….
Think about it: How often do you see these timeless tales….in reverse? Men thinking they can tame the bad girl and fix her with their endless awesome amounts of love and nurturing, and women donning their armor, convinced they can slay the dragons and save the man is distress?
Not too often, eh? It is not, oh, a huge reoccurring theme in movies, books, sonnets, songs or…life. The scale is tipped heavily by what people assume is, by nature and nurture, the essence of women and men.
Which prolly explains really well why I do not…get it. ‘Cause in the epic saga of my life, well, the mean, leather-wearing, hard drinking occasionally drug using foul-mouthed ill tempered fist fighting snarly surly anti-social type has always been…me. That shit scares White Knights I guess, and does not necessarily lend itself well at all to the ‘delicate lady in distress’ trope, and well, were my door to swing that way, any woman who came along with the theory that her love and devotion could break me of my wild ways….well, now she’d get a stern and quite possibly snarky lecture….a few years back, she prolly woulda gotten a pop in the mouth for her efforts (and, if like many women who do fall into this save the bad boy –or girl in this case- a pop in the mouth did not dissuade her…well, a restraining order.)
It could be, what with my amazing empathy and all, that I do not get it in any way, shape or form that someone A) might think the “bad” sorts even WANT saving, B) That love will conquer jack shit, much less that shit, C) Or why someone would set themselves up for undoubtedly a serious amount of pain, trauma, insanity and quite possibly physical harm even trying. Hell, I know how I react when people attempt to pull that kinda shit…so why would a guy be any different, and why would such a woman be so convinced that HER Mojo would some how be…that good? And heck…what does it say about those women themselves when fucked up, half cocked and hostile are seen as “attractive” traits. Sure enough, dangerous can get the adrenaline pumping, but it really should not inspire love and a willingness to possibly receive grievous bodily harm…
The simple fact is, I think, the world would do its future generations a lot of good if they would quit letting kids watch Disney movies, ect., without discussions of fantasy vs. reality and start teaching young women and men that a partner is a partner, and not a project.
Loving someone is not saving them, taming them, fixing them, or rescuing them. That shit is for shelter animals, not humans…and until people figure that out, there is a good chance decent people will continue to get their hearts (and possibly faces) broken by “bads” and their armor (and feelings) tarnished by “in distressers”.
So now I am gonna kick back amid these words of advice, put my boots ON the table, and offer these words of wisdom: Ya can’t save what doesn’t want or need saving, and if you insist on saving someone….save yourself.
And well, for the hell of it, That Charming Game Dude and His Equally Charming Sister. (Pfft, you think I prefer reading over looking at the pictures? Come on…)
Some things are just not fixable, or dateable...