Anyone in a man-woman relationship for more than a minute-and-a-half understands the fairer and masculine sexes communicate in vastly different ways. Both speak and hear through some kind of gender filter. For instance at the beginning of a now mostly regular and monogamous relationship, I broached the topic of extracurricular activity. I believed then (and now) in full disclosure about casual boom boom, even as we pursued something clothed and occurring outside the bedroom during daylight hours. He didn’t hear exploration or lifestyle or Seriously, I’m the girl who tells tales of a less than puritanical view of sexuality, and you know that seeing you read all of it before our first date. Instead he heard he wasn’t enough. He heard he didn't satisfy me. He may have even heard small dick.
None of which is the case. Trust.
And just weeks ago during a rather intimate and weepy conversation, I unexpectedly blurted out, “I don’t like my body right now, I don't feel as sexy," followed by the insecure mea culpa, "I’m not the same girl you met." In fairness his reply registered medium-to-high on the sensitive guy scale:
“You know that's not true, or wouldn't matter."
The better answer, “What fat?”
(And it wouldn't matter because that's not what he see when he see me. Which is why tonight when he treats me to a dinner date at the cheeky Belgium pub he’ll insist on several rounds and splitting an order of the fried pickles. With aioli.)
The manner and method of mano e mano and girl-on-girl chat differs too. Us ladies talk, a lot, usually over wine and whining, repeating and making points heard over and over. We attach “I hate to say…” and “I just don’t know…” to the beginning of sentences and say them anyway and can go for hours, until the phone hums hot in the ear or we’ve shredded several paper napkins to bits. Then we hug it out. To contrast and compare, the manfriend has a recently single friend, one whose marriage ended (what seemed on the outside) suddenly and whose kid was quickly transplanted out of state. At a gig, another good friend – aware of his situation - caught up:
“Hey, you doing okay?”
“Need any money?”
And then they had beers. And probably got him laid.