Why Women are Turning Their Backs on Men

And getting on with life

Women are giving up on men. Turning their backs and walking off into the sunset. So long sailor.

Men have disappointed women with such regularity and on such a massive, universal scale, that women en masse are cutting their losses and getting on with life.

Once bitten twice shy.

Like the hundredth monkey effect, there is a quantum leap in enlightenment across womanhood. Women have given up on men ever being chivalrous, loyal, dependable, or solid. Even as friends.

Men’ve been behaving badly.

Have men been too spoilt for too long as king of the castle? Are they all misogynists? Who knows. Who cares. That’s how bad it has gotten.

They’ve shot themselves in the foot this time and they’d better shape up. But they won’t and so the ladies have lost all respect for the men.

Why flog a dead horse?

It is too easy for men to slip off into the night and gaslight. Too easy for them to ghost and be busy with sports and drinking and neglect their women and children. To run off, disappear, and run away.

They never do anything that doesn’t have a benefit to themselves. They are always on the make. On the hunt.

Through fair means or foul.

My first boyfriend in senior high school cheated on me and my last boyfriend cheated on me. And all but one in between cheated on me. It is unrealistic and foolish of me to expect faithfulness or loyalty anymore.

The numbers don’t lie.

Some of the most outstanding women in the world were cheated on. Even Sienna Miller and even Hillary Clinton. I bet you can name a few too, just off the top of your head.

So it ain’t all about having a target on your forehead. Men cheat for a gazillion reasons, including the cloak and dagger intrigue.

Some women are turning their backs on men for good, and forever.

Some women are playing the men at their own game.

Some women do not let men sleep with them in their nice clean beds.

There is an explosion on the internet and in kitchens and boudoirs. A clarion call — women are de-centering men. Women are telling their stories. Women are sharing their tales. Women are growing in comprehension. Women are standing in their power. Women are saying, feck that for a joke I deserve better.

Women have seen the light and aren’t willing to gamble anymore.

We can’t be arsed.

We are doubtful and dubious. We’ve done our collective risk assessment and frankly Frank — the stakes are too high.

We don’t want to lose any more sleep, momentum, and precious time. We don’t like being treated like servants and whores and space fillers. We are sick of you blokes pulling our hair and sniggering and riding on our backs as we tramp across the desert in blazing heat barefoot. Feck off.

We’re putting a high price on our heads. The walls are up. The moat is dug.

The gold and jewel-encrusted chastity belts are fastened and we’ve swallowed the keys.

We won’t be mauled and tricked and still cook and do the dishes. We won’t waste our breath explaining the importance of respect. We won’t lose half our wealth. We won’t forgo our gifts in favor of yours. We won’t waste our breath on our collective pleas to value our sweetness.

We’ve given up on Tony Robbins style ego stroking just to jolly a fella into helping us out. We’re ignoring and forfeiting the unspoken weird contracts men have with us that are dubious and underhand and that we never signed up for.

We’ve learned the hard way that men cannot be trusted. We learned it because this is what men showed us. They showed us they are, for the most part, untrustable. We can’t depend on them.

Untrustworthy and unreliable.

Too many lies and broken promises. Too many whispered sweet nothings to get our panties off with fingers crossed behind their backs. Too many no-shows and showdowns. Too many I-never-said-thats. Too much snoring and too much roaring.

The men can’t be trusted to cradle our hearts in their cupped palms because the temptation to squeeze, just to hear us squeal, is too tempting.

Or, they forget they even held a beating heart in their big paws and leave it out in the cold and the dark. Forgotten on the roof of a truck. Then they drive off.

They have forgotten or foregone what it is to be a real man. The qualities of valour and esteem. They seem not to give a sh*t about their own self respect, let alone the transformative power of real connection and community.

Women have given up on masculine love too because, without a foundation of friendship and respect, all love games are shallow endeavors with no future. No hope for the fullness of emotional security, meaning, depth, or growth.

We’re better off with a good book. We’re better off with a broomstick.

Goodbye and good riddance.

The twisty deceit of the men is dead boring. We aren’t even shocked or surprised anymore. Yawn. We’re turning our pretty backs on those low-vibe trickster antics. No more silently absorbing men’s emotions. No more listening and cheering. No more men-centering.

We’re instead raising our vibration and getting our glow on.

We are keeping our wiles and perfumes and soft smiles to ourselves and making ourselves the centre of our universe.

We are individually and collectively becoming wise and treasuring our minds, homes, company, time, cash, and bodies.

We won’t shed another tear.

Like the Miley Cyrus song - we are buying our own flowers.

This grassroots femme fatale revolution will change society. It is a pivotal part of this spiritual war. We are the yang, the dark wild energy.

We are the sacred feminine — the mothers, sisters, and daughters.

Vive la révolution!

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