I tried, I really did. I breathed deeply, I ate a chocolate bar, I concentrated on my work.
But I couldn’t help it. The anger simmering away for the past few months since Tiger Woods crashed his car in the middle of the night finally exploded – and I have to write about it.
The catalyst was this:
There’s a nice lady, Jenny, who works on Reception at the Famous Features office.
I was asking her to change a fiver for me – a seemingly banal task, and an insignificant part of my day.
But as she fumbled around for pound coins, I happened to ask her opinion on Colegate – as yesterday, Cheryl Cole issued a statement formally announcing the split from Ashley.
‘Oh, my husband brought some of his friends over from the golf club last night,’ she said breezily. ‘They were all saying she deserves it.’
I stopped in my tracks, puzzled. Surely I’d misheard her?
‘Why is it Cheryl’s fault?’ I enquired, incredulously.
She shrugged. ‘Oh, you know, she was never at home, she was always off promoting her album everywhere, doing the X-Factor stuff…’
Smoke billowing out of my ears, I interrupted: ‘So, hang on a minute. He’s allowed to kick a ball around the globe, but because she’s not barefoot, pregnant and chained to the sink, and she’s actually carving out a successful career, that makes this whole sorry mess inevitable?
‘Like it’s some sort of PUNISHMENT for being ambitious?’
Those of you who know me are aware that I am an ardent feminist, and this particular argument made my toes curl with wrath.
How many women have to throw themselves under horses, juggle bottle feeding with board meetings and generally stretch themselves to a ridiculous capacity before it will be OK for women to reach for the stars, without worrying that this will provoke our male counterparts into cheating with a Dollybird?
Jenny added lamely: ‘The younger lads in their twenties were all saying ‘Good on him.’
That, for me, compounded what has been nearly a week’s worth of fury over:
THE RISE OF THE SEXUAL OPPORTUNIST.
Famous ones include Tiger Woods, John Terry, Ashley Cole, and even Our Vern.
But they’re everywhere. Blokes who will shag as many women as they possibly can, irrespective of what they have with each particular girl (be it marriage, a full-blown relationship, or a casual yet promising fling).
Of course, girls are guilty of that too. I’m hardly a nun, but what I would never do is have my cake, eat it and betray people I cared about – all because I thought I could get away with it as long as no questions were asked.
Sexual opportunists have always existed. But it seems that during the last couple of weeks, they’ve been everywhere, peopling my nightmares and shattering any illusions I had about finding someone decent to share my life with.
What Ashley, Tiger, John and EVEN VERNON KAY have done is particularly odious, because they are all married.
They stood in front of family, friends, and OK!’s cameramen, and solemnly declared to forsake all others and be faithful.
While Vernon may not have actually penetrated anyone (although it wouldn’t surprise me if that was tomorrow’s headline in The Sun, my faith has been so badly damaged), his is a betrayal as much as the others’.
He was sexually suggestive to a woman who wasn’t his wife – his wife who has just given birth to their second daughter.
As if a woman isn’t vulnerable enough when she has a child (hormones, stretch marks, post-natal depression, sleepless nights, etc), her ‘Family man’ husband is busy texting a buxom blonde about how nice her tits look on Page 3.
I find this incredibly upsetting. Perhaps I’ve been idealistic, but until recently I’ve always had hope that there are good guys out there.
But the flurry of stories about all the dirty business that’s been done, in the arrogant faith that they won’t be found out and that silence can be purchased, has smashed this hope.
I’m reading a brilliant book at the moment by best-selling novelist Dorothy Koomson, ‘The Ice Cream Girls.’
I won’t give too much away, because you should all go out and buy it. But I read a line last night that made me cry, because it resonated so sharply:
"'Thank you,’ I say to him, meaning every letter of those words.
He stares at me, bemused and bewildered.
‘I…nope, that’s it, thank you.’
What I hate about all this dirty laundry in the news is that it’s making me feel exactly like the sentiments in that quote – like I can’t trust anyone, and am foolish to let my guard down even for a minute and hope, just hope, that someone might be different.
But the excuses that (mostly) men are now coming up with in Ashley’s defence are doing worse than that. They’re making me so angry I could cry:
‘Men like sex with females – women are more emotional.’ (Leigh Thompson)
‘The reality is men think with their penis, naturally, and bar a few, this will never stop.’ (Leigh Thompson)
‘He’s a bloke and likes to sample the bitches, like that caveman did in the cave after a hard day’s sabre tooth fighting.’ (Leigh Thompson)
Leigh, by the way, is a particularly erudite, intelligent Crawley gentleman who was kind enough to offer these pearls of wisdom when I mentioned this blog on Facebook.
I’ll always be grateful for his, ahem, input.
WHY is it OK to use biology as an excuse for these people (and yes, yes, I know women cheat too, before you say it)?
That’s like saying ‘Oops, I just shit on the floor, but Cavemen used to do it, so that’s why.’
And just because ‘That’s the way it’s always been,’ does that mean it’s OK?
Surely the point of being a human, as opposed to a rutting dog on heat, is that we have evolved and are supposedly more sophisticated because we are able to think and process information, as opposed to acting purely on instinct.
So what stopped Ashley Cole from thinking, when that rancid pug-dog Aimee Walton agreed to go to bed with him, (I assume this was before he vomited over her) that it was time to do the right thing – because we AREN’T dogs?
Using biology to excuse this behaviour is mightily convenient, and I used to do it myself, all the time.
It was a way of taking the control out of the bloke’s hands, and excusing what they did as something they couldn’t help.
‘They think with their crotch, and if they truly believe they can get sex with different women without being found out, they’ll do it,’ I chirped merrily, trying to convince myself more than the people I was talking to.
‘They just can’t help themselves, biology takes over.’
‘We shouldn’t expect anything more, because that’s just how they’re programmed to behave.’
But you know what? It’s not OK. I’m not making excuses for them any more.
But it goes for both sexes. Betrayal is not OK, whatever sex, colour or creed you are. And by the way, being economical with the truth is just as bad as lying, and hurts the same.
So whether it’s texting, sexting, or whatever – it’s a shitty thing to do.
Ashley, I hope you realise what you’ve lost. And for any other guy or girl reading this who has squirmed because I’ve described their behaviour?
Sort it out. You’re pathetic.
No comments:
Post a Comment