I’m going to meander to get to my point today, just so you know….
So I just finished reading Suzanne Venker’s book How To Choose a Husband, and personally, I thought her advice was spot on. In fact, I’ve covered most of it on my blog – Suzanne, have you been reading JudgyBitch?
Ha ha! I don’t really think that. Most of what she writes is just common sense to me. I’m not surprised she’s from Missouri. We small town, rural folk seem to have different values.
Here is Suzanne’s advice in a nutshell:
Reject popular culture. That shit is toxic for women and portrays an image of women and men that is based on media fantasy and not reality.
Get over yourself, you’re not special.
Try acting feminine
Choose your partner sensibly
Don’t shack up
Stop thinking something better will come along
Don’t put your kids in daycare
Stop being so fat
Raise your children first, then go to work, if you want
Don’t get divorced
Understand your life in the context of something greater than yourself
It’s all pretty straightforward, sensible stuff, but what I found really interesting is how Suzanne spins her own first marriage, which ended in divorce. Suzanne and Chris (Husband 1.0) had no children, and I really have no problem with people getting divorced when there are no children involved. Go ahead. You’re only hurting yourself, or perhaps finding a great relief. No kids? Divorce away!
Suzanne ascribes her failure at marriage on the first go to differences in values and class, and then she uses Elizabeth and Darcy in Pride and Prejudice as her example of perfect love!
Darcy is the richest man in Darbyshire! Pemberly is the most magnificent house in the whole county! Darcy is superbly wealthy and absolutely upper class. Elizabeth is one of five daughters born to a clergyman and she is one bad marriage away from abject poverty. She has no personal fortune and cannot inherit the family estate. She is clinging to the edge of respectability by her fingernails.
They could not be more different. The fact that Elizabeth considers Darcy laughably out of her league is the reason she is so impertinent and cheeky with him, and the fact that Elizabeth is not outright hunting Darcy is what makes her so endearing to him.
Their class difference is what makes the whole damn story work.
I don’t know what the real problem in Suzanne’s first marriage was, but to suggest that a clash in class and values is a reason to discard a marriage leaves me feeling very unsettled. Oh, it will bring some conflict, but every marriage has conflict, and approaching the world with a different perspective in class or social order is hardly a reason to destroy a whole relationship.
You see, Mr. JB and I come from very different class and social backgrounds, too. He is very thoroughly middle-class and has spent most of his life in a big city, at the top of the social pecking order. He grew up having dinner every Sunday at a country club! Had his own little suit jacket when he was five! He eats pizza with a knife and fork! He knows what a runcible spoon is and when to use it!
Me, I call that thing a spork, and I never use them. What the hell for?
I was raised on a farm by some wingnut, tinfoil-hat wearing armageddonists who thought the answer to What Would Jesus Do was “beat the fuck out of your children”. We grew all our own food and canned and had bee hives and churned our own butter and wore matching plaid clothes my mom sewed herself.
Our experiences were a little different, to say the least.
And we definitely have different approaches to life as a result.
Here is a story about some very real conflict Mr. JB and I are dealing with, as a direct result of attitudes and perspectives, brought about by our very different social circumstances.
In the town where we live, our city council has purchased a number of different houses to be used for social services purposes. The idea is that when you cluster poor, disadvantaged people together, it normalizes dysfunction and poverty and makes it seem like everyone you know is having a shitty time. So in our town, poor people are dropped into more affluent neighborhoods, where the children can grow up surrounded by more normal folks, leading more normal lives than the ones they have unfortunately been born to.
I like that idea.
This past summer, a little boy, ten years old, moved into our neighborhood. His parents are in jail (I don’t know why) and he has been placed with a foster family, who lives in one of the city-owned houses. I wish I could tell you that the foster family was wonderful and loving and providing for LostBoy, but they are not. They seem to like the check they get for taking care of LostBoy, but not much else. To make matters worse, LostBoy is part of a much maligned racial minority, so he faces enormous stigma and negative stereotypes in his day to day life on top of having to live with a foster family while his parents do their time.
It’s very sad.
LostBoy spent the summer wandering the neighborhood aimlessly and eventually began to start playing with our son, LittleDude, who is seven.
First major conflict: Mr. JB’s protective instincts kicked in and he didn’t want LostBoy anywhere near our kids. No way. His parents are in JAIL, for god’s sake! How could I possibly condone that kind of influence around our children?
Well, it’s not LostBoy’s fault his parents are maniacs. I personally know a lot about being a kid raised by completely insane parents. And the thought of him sitting under a tree, watching while our kids race around on rollerblades with super soakers and jump on the trampoline and do all the fun things kids do just breaks my heart.
I won that round, but it wasn’t over. Once school started (LostBoy still goes to his regular school, not the one in our neighborhood), I noticed something else. Our kids come home from school and immediately have a snack because they’re hungry. LostBoy would come to our house directly after school to play, and he is always very shy about asking for food. He leaves our house at dinnertime, saying that his foster family has a tradition of eating very late.
This means LostBoy is going from 1PM to 8PM without food. That’s crazy. So I told him he never needed to ask to have fruit or crackers or a glass of milk at my house. He could just take what he wanted.
Conflict number two: Mr. JB comes home to find LostBoy helping himself to milk and a banana and he loses his shit. “Why the fuck are we feeding a kid I’ve already paid taxes to feed? His foster family is supposed to feed him! Are you going to invite every poor kid in the neighborhood to just come and raid our fridge whenever they feel like it?”
And he’s right. LostBoy’s foster family IS supposed to feed him, but they’re NOT! And I will not let a little boy go hungry in my house.
You see, Mr. JB has never gone hungry or been ostracized a day in his life, so he has no idea what that feels like. He sees the situation only from his perspective as a provider and a protector. He thinks LostBoy is a bad influence that is only going to get worse. What happens when he’s 16? When he’s not a little boy anymore, but closer to a grown man? Growing up in foster care with dirtbags for parents. From Mr. JB’s perspective the situation looks dangerous and foolish.
And I understand that.
I see the situation through the eyes of a small town girl. We have to live in the world with LostBoy whether we like it or not. And this IS a small town. Our children WILL run into LostBoy again, even after he moves away and goes back to his own family.
I want him to always remember our house and our family as a place where he met with kindness and generosity. When LostBoy becomes LostMan and runs into Pinky or LittleDude, I want him to think of them with benevolence. It is entirely possible that we ARE, in fact, the only people in his whole damn life who have treated him with compassion and gentleness.
Mr. JB and I approach the world with very different attitudes, and yes, that can sometimes lead to conflicts. The situation with LostBoy is not a joke. Mr. JB does NOT agree with how I am handling this situation and we do have arguments about it. If we weren’t arguing about this, though, we would be arguing about something else.
The fact that we have conflicts, and that we do not see the world from the same perspective is not something that threatens our marriage. On the contrary. It makes it stronger. It forces us to know each other better, and to search for compromises that work for everyone.
We haven’t found that compromise yet, but we will. Right now, we are doing things my way, but LostBoy has no illusions about Mr. JB and the lengths to which he would go to protect his family. And that’s probably a good thing. LostBoy is seeing an example of what fathers do, one he probably doesn’t see much of at home. This problem may simply settle itself, when LostBoy’s parents get out of jail and he returns to them. In any case, we will figure things out together, as we always do.
Suzanne’s story about how her first marriage failed, owing to these different perspectives and worldviews, to me, undermines the whole premise of her book. She doesn’t take responsibility for her failed marriage or consider that she was simply selfish and immature and she discarded a good man because he would not bend to her will. No one gets to have their way all the time. Not in any sort of happy marriage.
And sometimes, that sucks. It’s hard to give in to other people when you feel so strongly about a particular issue. Right now, Mr. JB is giving in to me, but those tables could turn fairly easily, and I might have to give in to him.
That’s when marriage gets tough: when compromising your values means compromising yourself. The only way to survive that it is to stop for a moment and consider that you might actually be wrong. Seeing the world from another perspective, being critical of yourself, understanding another person’s point of view and acquiescing in the face of great opposition are not things that threaten or destabilize a marriage: they are the things that make a marriage great.
It’s called being a grown-up, and it’s the first thing you have to do when you choose a husband.
Grow up.
Lots of love,
JB
judgybitch 
Differences in ‘class’ values only work when it is the man who came from wealth & the woman comes from a poorer background.
The reason? It’s simple. Women refuse to marry DOWN and will only marry ‘up’ and will simply refuse to marry at all if marrying ‘up’ isn’t an option. This is half the reason 50% of adults are unmarried in the U.S. The other half of the explanation is that men are rejecting the gross American female first because she’s been living the lifestyle of a prostitute (without the money) having had 100 cocks in her by 25 years of age and of course the legal minefield of involving yourself with a female at all is simply too risky for men now that all a woman has to do is make a vague accusation of ‘abuse’ by claiming she didn’t feel ‘safe’ with no evidence, take out a restraining order and wins the house and all resources including children, cutting the man completely out of her and his children’s lives when she becomes bored with him.
‘Class’ is a primarily female concern. Men in the U.S. still believe in the American Way & don’t ascribe to the European ‘class’ system- that was the whole point of the United States-! To be able to succeed through your own work, merit and/or genius, regardless of your background. But most women simply don’t look at the world this way- they see the world as a pool of wealthy men to extract resources from and fight ferociously over like a pack of wolves. The only way women become ‘financially successful’ own their ‘own’ is through an incredible artificial construct where everything is already completely set up for them by men & they come in and take control through threats of lawsuits. Only problem is, every other female is attempting to do this and their biggest enemies are each other. So then it’s right back to the old system of targeting men. Only problem is, those men are becoming scarce.
The word ‘privilege’ makes me throw up in my mouth. It is the extreme opposite of everything I believe in. Hard work, ingenuity, genius, and inventiveness.
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Quite true, but let’s not forget that this successful man must also be tall, handsome, and exciting, preferably with felony convictions, sexy tattoos and scars, and a motorcycle. Plus, he has to be keen on commitment and a mind-reader who instantly knows whether she wants to be gently caressed or pressed up against the kitchen table and taken. ANNNNNND…he has to accept her for the way she is, a snowflake.
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Great post from top to bottom. I too struggle with subjecting my children to influences of children from less desirable situations, and Mrs. AMD has outright forbidden certain playmates due to parental influence. Our daughter Birdsnest is 7, and you can already see bad apples being formed in her classmates. However, it’s usually not from kids that are in rough socio/economic conditions, but from entitled children with both parents working and not enough attention to their children. I think what you’re doing for LostBoy is the right thing though, but totally understand your husband’s position and I too would be watching that interaction like a hawk.
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I like Venker a lot and consider her an ally of men. But she must also realize that training women to be good wives isn’t going to mean squat if men continue to GTOW en masse. Which we have ample and completely justified reason to do.
I know there are “good women” out there. I refuse to enter into a relationship where my partner holds a loaded gun, regardless of how sweet, nurturing, and keen to please she may be.
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Marriage is quickly becoming solely the domain of religious conservatives. Soon it will be in the hands of groups like the FLDS only.
Economics is going to cause a failure of the hypergamy system women currenlty enjoy as more women out earn the available men. The few remaining men considered “acceptable” will simply cycle through the available women.
If you want to know what the majority of relationships are going to look like in the future, start watching James Bond movies.
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Let’s see…when I met my husband in an engineering course I was a hippie granola type girl who didn’t shave my legs (blonde, didn’t really need to though), knew that I would never date a military guy, or take anyone’s last name. I was going to have a brilliant career and never have kids. Having been a military brat, my mother always told me not to make the “mistakes she did” and give everything up (she had a thriving career as a waitress before marriage) to follow a military man, or any man.
My husband was in ROTC and going to go into the military, a member of a racial minority group I never thought I’d date let alone marry and take the very common last name of (but as I mentioned, I was going to keep my name anyway), and I wasn’t attracted to him either, initially.
By the time we started dating I’d decided following around a military guy was just what I needed for life, and we would definitely have kids, and I’d shave my legs routinely, and he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen…how on God’s green earth didn’t I notice that from the start? I’ve become more conservative, he became a bit more liberal, I learned to be less spartan and miserly, he learned it pays to save and not spend everything the moment you get it…and so on. There have definitely been some capers, but that is how a couple grows together.
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HH and I had a similar situation over the summer, a family moved into the house across the street. These people were like Bob & June Wheeler from Nightcourt, the police care that was taking them to the station for their powdered milk being mistaken for drugs would be struck by lightning…twice, bad luck followed them around like a stray dog.
We began helping them with little things food or filling their water containers because their utilities were shut off, once I took the wife of the couple to Walmart and paid $8 for the anti-biotic(medical miracle for the cost of fast food) she needed for an infected tooth. When they finally moved back to her mother’s they said that not even their family had helped them that much without any judgement or strings.
Both HH and I wanted to help these people but I do confess to being more guarded because I’ve had my generosity abused before.
Don’t forget the most important thing you can give Lost-boy is someone who believes that he isn’t stuck where he is. That in the end he is the only person who determines his fate.
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“Dating and relationships are for women you are already having sex with” is becoming the rule among the most attractive men. And in response, young women are finding ways to rationalize how wonderful “hookup culture” is for them.
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I’m getting from the impression from your posts that you envision a Logan’s Run type environment for our future world.
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When I was seven my two younger brothers ages three and five and myself were staying with an aunt, parents divorced, Mom hospitalized, we know now because she was bi-polar,Dad was trying to get some money together so he could take us. We probably had overstayed our welcome at our aunt’s house. That year my brothers and I knew there would not be not be much of a Christmas, I remember being concerned for my brothers but I was OK with it, I had developed into a little Stoic by then. Christmas Eve my Dad was working, a woman and her husband who watched us in the afternoons, took us to her parents house for dinner and they gave us presents of some clothes and a couple of toys
each. In the pictures taken my brothers are grinning from ear to ear. I wish that I could let that couple know that I remember and appreciate their kindness. What you are doing could be a difference for that little guy, he may end up back with parents who have drug or alcohol issues or remain in indifferent foster care. Remembering that someone cared a bit for him could help with the abandonment he feels and will have to deal with.
Have you read of the white family that were charitable to Louis Armstrong when he was a boy and influenced his perception.
By the way I am a privaleged white male
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I grew up in a very very very dysfunctional environment. Writing everything would take forever. But one thing I can tell you is that I will never, ever forget the parents of strangers who would be kind to me and provide me some refuge in the storm of my life. There were only a few here and there, but they made a huge difference. I think I’d be dead or in jail by now were it not for the proof positive I had that there were good and decent people in the world.
Thank you for being kind to that little boy. You likely are one of the only rays of hope and models of decency in his life. It matters. We all pay for what happens to him one way or the other, and are all, one way or the other, invested in his future.
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“Raise your children first, then go to work, if you want”
This bit is really not an option anymore. Since men cannot be counted on to stay after the rabbit dies, you need to have your career up an running to pay for the kid.
Also we need to take into account that women are being trained to kick their men to the curb for an ever increasing number of reasons. A young woman simply will not be able to tolerate her man after the first year, not because there’s anything wrong with him, but because throughout her education, she’s been programmed to believe that men are an unnecessary burden to the modern woman.
So if a woman wants a reliable life plan that includes children, she’s going to need to work out financially the kind of income she’ll need not only to pay for supporting the kid, but also the childcare that will be required when she returns to work.
I would urge most women forgo childbearing until the state has configured a system that can be favorable to working single mothers.
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I’m pretty choosy about who my kids play with for the same reason. The behavior among the little entitled ones is often worse than what you see from the underprivileged kids.
My daughter had a little friend who was always showing up at our front door when she was only 7 years old. She had a stay-at-home mom who couldn’t seem to bother keeping an eye on her. This kid was so mouthy and disrespectful that I really had to limit her interaction with my daughter. I was so relieved when they moved.
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What does after the rabbit dies, mean?
It is a fatal attraction reference I’m really not getting?
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“The rabbit died” is a very very old term that goes back to when there was a test for pregnancy where basically they would take chemicals from a woman’s body and inject them into a rabbit and if it killed the rabbit she was pregnant and if the rabbit lived she wasn’t. I don’t know all the details, I think it had to do with mixing her blood or urine with some other chemicals or something, we’re probably talking 50 years ago or more that this test existed. Anyway “the rabbit died” meant “you’re pregnant.” No one uses such tests anymore than I’m aware of.
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First, a little humorous look at mane, women, and marriage.
http://www.phocks.org/stumble/husband-store.php
Second, this is one of your best posts so far, JB. Bravo. You are making a real difference for Lost Boy, and I applaud you standing your ground on the matter. What you are doing is making the world a better place to live for everyone.
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Oh, well, so much for spell check. Duh, make that “men.”
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Thank you Dean.
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I stopped at gorgeous, funny and emotionally stable. That was enough.
All the rest we figured out together.
Mr. JB got off on the first floor.
I drink wine, not beer.
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Men cannot be counted on?!?!?!
What the fuck are you talking about? Most divorces are initiated by women!!
Women are the ones constantly looking for better and more. The grass is always greener, and Huband 1.0 gets chucked when a new potential comes along.
The grass ISN’T greener on the other side. It’s brown and full of worms and dirt and dead leaves.
I checked. Grass is only green on one side.
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That is one hell of a pregnancy test. Thank you for the knowledge…x P
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After they stopped using rabbits, they used frogs for a while too…
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Search for the term “rabbit test” for the gorey details. I believe it has something to do with the hormones released during pregnancy. Many rabbits are grateful for the little rod women hold in their urine stream these days.
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Personal life experience. I’ve seen enough guys walk away from women they’ve impregnanted that if I were a woman, I wouldn’t count on us either. This is very much a pre-marriage thing. If your pregnancy is “unplanned”, don’t expect the guy to want to stick around.
With regard to divorce, I agree that women are conditioned to divorce at a moments notice, and this just compounds the problem.
Either way, you end up with a single mother. So the question becomes, how do we configure society to provide favorable outcomes for the inevitable situation?
Unless there’s a shocking change in current trends, I can’t imagine this situation not becoming even worse. The only advice I can offer is don’t have kids. The U.S. population can be perfectly stable through immigration. So we can support a negative birth rate.
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try getting out of the city. also, did those guys you’ve seen deliberately impregnate them with intention of leaving? doubt all of them could be total asshats, that takes some luck
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My first marriage ended after 17 years (not sure I would want a second), though the ex and I managed the process such that we didn’t have to “split” friends and have remained friends ourselves. Not having kids was a partial cause to the split as well as aiding the process of an amicable divorce. But the primary reason for the split was not that either of us chose poorly in a spouse, but that I devolved over the years into a complete Beta, losing whatever more dominant traits I had to begin with.
I only discovered the Red Pill a couple of years after the split when I stumbled upon Citizen Renegade (now the Chateau). Read the entire site from beginning to end. Blew. My. Mind. I didn’t and still don’t subscribe to everything there, but I could see with crystal clarity exactly how I changed and what effect it had. Now that I’ve regained some of my game, our relationship is better than it was during the last years of the marriage. (Though we won’t be getting back together; that ship has sailed.)
And I want to applaud your efforts with LostBoy (perhaps I should offer to teach him to sail!). I, too, had an upbringing like Mr. JB. We didn’t have dinner every Sunday at the country club, but we did dine there occasionally and for several major holidays. I, too, had the little blue blazer as a child–usually with shorts and knee socks until I was about 9 and got to wear long pants. My siblings and I even had to take formal dancing lessons (something that might not be bad to bring back) complete with grey flannel pants, white cotton gloves, and cotillions.
But this was also the era (I’m dating myself here) of public school integration, and living in the suburbs we had kids from the inner city bussed to my schools starting in elementary. There were some tensions, but mostly we tried to befriend these strange, other-skinned kids. My buddies and I became friends with one of the kids from the projects, having him out to summer weekends at the pool club, birthday parties, etc. His family–intact–tried to reciprocate whenever possible and I still have vivid memories of going to his birthday parties in the project in the worst part of city.
We eventually lost touch during high school when he wasn’t at the same one, but I ran into him years later. He had become a city cop and later detective. I asked him about why he became a cop and he said that his experience having more affluent friends who treated him as an equal led him to want to help and protect other kids like he was and try to show them a different way than drugs and crime. His family was working poor and his brothers and sisters didn’t fare as well as he did, but he told me he was thankful for the opportunity to see a different way and be accepted for who he was. It helped that we all met when we were little kids, not having time to developed hardened prejudices. It wasn’t patronizing, it was just kids having fun together.
What you’re doing with LostBoy is a blessing. I understand Mr. JB’s reticence toward the boy, but I think you’re right that experiencing a good, masculine father in action is a good thing.
Hopefully LostBoy is still young enough to absorb the right lessons of kindness, compassion, trust, and gentleness.
Oh, and I’m in complete agreement that arguments and conflict don’t necessarily threaten a marriage and can actually make it stronger. Every couple will have disagreements and the key is how you handle them.
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I’ve noted in this post and others that JB’s of the opinion that parents shouldn’t divorce when there are kids. I don’t understand this position.
My parents divorced when I was 14. My main family memories are: constant shouting (as far back as I can remember), hostility, my mother manipulating me against my father (which I didn’t realize the full extent until later), and my father retaliating against me – basically, a very ugly & toxic environment. After the divorce, it wasn’t easy bouncing between 2 households – but it was better.
The best time of my life: When I was ~7 my mother went overseas for 6 weeks. My parents arranged for me to stay with another family during that time. They had a boy and a girl around my age. It was such a fun & happy time being with that family. Many decades later, I still think back to that time and regard it as an almost magical experience. I clearly remember not wanting to go back to my family!
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Good post. Relationships are about compromise.
But dropping poor people into affluent neighborhoods is a losing strategy, and one that will only lead to more crime & gang on gang violence. You should research how that very same strategy worked out for the people of Chicago.
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it’s for healthy development in the kids, as there is far too much evidence that a single mother set-up is one of the less brilliant ideas ever, and that parents should stay together for the child’s sake until the child is able to deal with one of them not being around much (generally around 15 for boys since teenage girls can be finicky and they have different circumstances to deal with, although pretty much the same age for both)
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Maybe Mr. JB is more mad about the loss of control over his own house than the tax dollars? If this is the case I personally wouldn’t blame him. Although you are doing a kind service to LostBoy by opening up your house and your heart.
I think a good compromise would be to tell LostBoy to be open about if he is hungry, and to just ask, instead of having free range over somebody else’s fridge.. personally if somebody told me they were hungry and asked for food I would make sure they left my house stuffed, but the sight of my son’s friend rifling through my cupboard would grind my gears… that’s my two cents
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^The smartest thing judgybitch has done in her entire life. That boy is going to remember your family for as long as he lives. Mr JB’s reaction just seems…callous? Lostboy is just that, a lost boy. Its inhumane holding a child accountable for their parents’ actions. I hope you can change his mind.
My dad had plenty of similar experiences growing up. And to this day, he still recalls the kindness other people showed and also remembers the cruel ones.
Keep doing what you’re doing for lostboy, he appreciates it more than you know.
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Marriage is the domain of “religion” because God created it.
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Hi, JB. On this one, I have to post that you are 100% wrong and your husband in 100% right. From crime propensity (violent AND property) to venereal disease, the group that kid comes from is way more prone to behavior dysfunction. Here is a picture of what you’re doing: http://tinyurl.com/cqe6hfd That’s a cuckoo, a brood parasite, whose mom kicked out the other bird’s eggs and laid her own in that nest, being fed by the songbird mom. Were you my wife, I’d be as pissed as if you’d gotten drunk at a party and let some guy feel up your tits for 30 seconds for the second time this month. YOU ARE BEING DISLOYAL TO YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILDREN. Knock this s**t off, RTFN, and don’t let the screwed up kid on your property again, to risk your own kids, and make your husband feel all his efforts, all his virtue, are to no point at all.. (Oh, and apologize unreservedly to hubby for having lost your brain for a while, albeit out of laudable maternal insttincts.)
MinnesotaSmith
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Really appreciate your actions wrt Lostboy.. I was moved by your story.
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