I’ve spent most of this year trying to change my thought patterns. On any given day, I tend to over-think and over-analyse everything… and even more so when it comes to my relationships. So for the past few months, I’ve tried to be more accepting of what’s being said, without scrutinizing every aspect and attaching a deeper meaning to it.
Most men are uncomplicated. So aside from the shit-pickers with OCD complexes or personalities, and the He-Bitches… y’know, those supposedly straight men that act like women… most men will in all likelihood reveal or perceive and interpret something exactly the way it is.
[My definition of "most" is in reference to all the men I’ve ever spoken to and does not allude to the gender population at large because *obviously* I have not conversed with every single male on this planet. Who knows, maybe cultural or geographical factors could influence the demographic in a particular region and may cause them to act otherwise.]
In any case, from my experiences with normal men (key word being normal), if a man tells you something is black and white, it usually is. And if you tell him that something is black and white, he will accept your word and perceive it as such and even expect it to be black and white.
But women are different. See, when a man tells a woman that something is black and white, HE means its black and white but SHE’s thinking of all the shades of grey in between while seriously trying to determine an appropriate category for silver on the assumption that it may fall into the black/grey/white spectrum under exceptional circumstances. And if that is not enough, she’s usually looking for all the other colours of the rainbow that may or may not be secretly hidden in those black and white crevices, just waiting to be found.
The same is true for most women (“most” being a generalization across the board) when disclosing any information to a member of the male species. When a woman tells a man that something is pink, HE thinks it’s pink but SHE really means that it’s a fushia and magenta blend with a touch of cerise & crimson and hints of cherry blossom, tamarisk & coral as well as subtle violet undertones that makes it look navy blue in the light with yellow specs and traces of green… so its actually turquoise.
I often wonder why do women have this inclination to perform word-surgeries on every conversation, often dissecting dialogues and looking for the spleen and pancreas of deeper hidden meanings… the kidneys of “I had a nice evening” do not necessarily mean “You can start sewing that wedding gown”. Is it one of those genetic codes chromosomally programmed into DNA to distinguish the sexes? Is it some kind of gender marker?
Worse still is that any word born from most female lips suffer the excruciating fate of expectation… “I mentioned it at dinner, I hope he gets the hint”… the same hint wrapped in sheaths of paper like a tacky birthday prank… a box, within a box, within a box, within a box… even Einstein would have trouble figuring it out.
And all the while to most men, black and white is black and white. And pink is pink. They don’t GET hints and they don’t offer them either, bar those exceptions.