There’s a certain kind of person who is so concerned with their own needs, how they’re feeling, and what’s good for them, they really don’t have the capacity to take in much of anything else. You might know some people like this. They can be very charming and charismatic, but after a short time you’ll realize their favorite topic — and the one they circle back to again and again — is them.
When they aren’t talking about what’s good for them or what they’re excited about or looking forward to (world dominance! ballroom-bunkers! the end of Obamacare!) — they’re talking about things that really upset them. A list of ways they’ve been wronged or people they loathe — and they can be very petty about it.
These kind of people like to assert their dominance as a way of feeling better about themselves. No one feels the need to assert something when they feel confident it’s already understood, and only insecure, fearful people have the desire to dominate and control others.
This week I wrote about a time I watched my dad strip my not-yet-stepmom of her power and joy right in front of me, teaching us both that he was the one who was going to call the shots. I was five, and I remember looking from him to her and back again, as the energy in the room shifted, and so did something in my mind.
This wasn’t about a teddy bear, this was about permission. She’d done something without asking him if it was okay, and he wasn’t going to allow that.
There was more to it — if she and I bonded, that threatened the relationship he’d set up with me. I was supposed to be his tiny confidante, his pocket therapist, his pint-sized affirmer and secret-keeper. If she started buying me teddy bears, who knew whether I’d keep his Extracurricular Olympic-Level Womanizing Activities to myself.
My dad was fifty. His girlfriend (eventual third wife) was twenty-four. I was five. Those numbers feel significant. She’d bought me the bear with her own money, but he made us return it. We both got the lesson that she was not allowed any agency when it came to me. Only he was the grantor of joy if there was going to be any.
What kind of man makes his tiny daughter return a teddy bear? What kind of man teaches his girlfriend she gets no respect, right in front of his child? She’s allowed to do the laundry, make the dinner, keep the house clean, work and pay half the bills, but she’s not allowed to buy a gift he wouldn’t have purchased … because, why?
What kind of man gives $40 billion to Argentina, but won’t feed the most vulnerable people in his own country? What kind of man makes people choose between food and affordable healthcare? What kind of president doesn’t care that 20 million people are going to see a doubling of their healthcare premiums (mine are quadrupling) or that 15 million people will be thrown of Medicaid and the ACA?
What kind of administration grants tax breaks to billionaires and huge corporations, but doesn’t care that hardworking people are struggling to buy groceries? What kind of people send ICE agents to daycare centers?
In the midst of all these horrors, what kind of man pauses, looks around, and asks, “Did Women Ruin the Workplace?” All this and more (including the very excellent special elections) in this week’s podcast episode. Love to all.
