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I'm not sure what the worst part of her story is. It sounds like she had a rough childhood, growing up with a rage-filled, Vietnam-vet father and an OCD mother, but she does love her parents despite their obvious flaws. I think the worst part is just the number of asshole men she's met: I just don't know which man to label as the "most terrible." Is it her cousin who raped her when she was just a 15-year-old virgin when she was drunk at her first party? Is it a later-convicted rapist who repeatedly put his dick in her hand (while out in public) and eventually cums on the back of her dress? Is it the snob she dated for two years even though he was practically embarrassed to be seen with her (and the kind of guy who told her that her arms were flabby)? Was it the gigilo she hired for a story who, even as a man who is being paid by a woman for sex, acted exactly like any other man, focusing only on his own pleasure? Was it the man who flat out said, "That wasn't sex, that was rape" when she said she wasn't ready for him to be inside her? The list goes on and on. Even when she didn't write about sex, Stadtmiller was telling other sob stories, like when she had to euthanize her pit bull because of his biting tendencies, and then re-homed her other dog because he was so distraught without his canine companion. Reading this book was like reading The Grapes of Wrath again: just when you think it can't get worse, it does.
Just like in Valenti's book, Stadtmiller continually makes poor choices that she self-reflectively knows are wrong. "If I don't fit into a polite world, then I will live as impolite a life as possible. I will ravage myself. I will dive headfirst into one seedy encounter after another." It's like she keeps digging a deeper hole for herself, knowing she's making terrible decisions left and right, but continuing to do so because she's so damaged and no one understands her or truly knows her. Of course the traumas she experienced in her youth are not her fault and it's tragic that they will follow her for the rest of her life, but how she is leading her life is certainly not helping the situation.
"I hate more than anything the feeling that I've done something wrong. It's a debilitating kind of perfectionism I've had since childhood where I'm so afraid to have done something wrong that I stubbornly stick to whatever wrong choice I've made - all so I can avoid the shame of having to admit I screwed up in the first place." It is this dangerous mindset that gets our author into so much trouble. She realizes when she's done something wrong/dangerous/shameful, but instead of addressing it right then and there and stop, she continues on with it, committing full-throttle into whatever situation she's got herself into. When she enters into a relationship with a married man, she knows it is wrong, especially since she herself is divorced due to her husband's infidelities. But instead of thinking, "Two wrongs don't make a right," she rationalizes what truly cannot be justified. She claims, "It provides such a surprising sense of relief, too. It feels like freedom. No burdens. No moral questions. Say yes to every bad idea and accept that you are a bad person." Again, she has this mentality of having dug herself into such a deep unethical, immoral hole that she might as well keep digging, because she doesn't see any way out.
She realizes how pathetic she is, mocking herself throughout the book and pointing out the numerous epiphanies she has when she comes to terms with the fact that she drinks too much and should stop sleeping with any random man she meets. She even creates a list of all the men she has slept with and denotes whether she was high and/or drunk when it happened: "Every single one." Once Stadtmiller decides to become sober (for real this time), she is able to put things into a new, and better, perspective. She notes that, "Your far-too-clear sober brain starts to feel more ownership over the scope of your whole life." Not only can she see things more clearly, but she also realizes that she is accountable for her actions and her choices.
But at least, as a comedian, Stadtmiller does include some humor in the book. The funniest part was when she breaks the fourth wall, speaking directly to you as the reader. Before she heads into this one story, she tells the readers that if we've already cringed at some point during this book, it's going to get worse. She proceeds to share the text of an email she sent to her boyfriend, which was mostly a bulleted list of things he should do, including proposing to her, proposing to her soon, break up with her but that she'll be okay, oh yeah start his own brand, etc. At the end of the email, she asks the reader, "Are you dead? Did you die?" I thought, yes, I am dead. That was 100% cringe-worthy. I also laughed out loud when, after genuinely letting her guard down and telling a man that she really likes him, she writes, "The urgent rush of sincerity is embarrassing. Like I just wet my pants right there at the table." LOL.
Despite the fact that I am very much the opposite of our author (I had a very happy childhood; I've never done drugs; I can count my number of sexual partners on just a few fingers), there are moments throughout the book that I could completely relate to as a woman, especially when it comes to dealing with men.
Here's a gem from one of the shitty guys she met: "I'll tell you exactly what I want. My fantasy is to find a woman who's indescribably hot, she's a total bade, but then she has this one single flaw... Something that makes her just insecure enough so that even though she's a total ten, I never have to deal with all that hot-girl confidence." As a confident woman myself, I can definitely attest to the fact that this is how most men feel. Men claim they like confident women, but they actually don't: confident women don't put up with disrespectful men's bullshit, and that's all these men can dish out. And of course men hate being called out on their bullshit, and that's why they date insecure women who just feel thankful to receive any kind of male attention (good or bad).
At one point Stadtmiller tells a man she doesn't want to have sex but that she'd like to be friends, and of course he says no to that scenario. She says, "His rejection confirms all my worst fears. He knows what I am good for - and when I don't give him that, I'm good for absolutely nothing." Again, it's unfortunate that we live in a society that values a woman by her fuck-ability. If a man can't have sex with a woman (either because she's ugly/fat/imperfect in some way, or because she says no), then what good is she? I completely relate to what our author is feeling here. This isn't just a sentiment that only promiscuous women relate to, this feeling that men see a woman as nothing but a set of orifices: ALL women can relate to this. If any woman can say a man has never felt this way, she should be seen as the exception, not the rule.
After ALL of these disasters, Stadtmiller does come to a point when she decides to be single. "Eventually, I just give up on dating. I don't want to be hurt, disillusioned, or alienated anymore... I've long given up on the idea of getting married. I'm too old... I'm sick of crushed expectations, and I just can't with the boring guys..." Amen, sister. I have dealt with my fair share of disappointing dating experiences (read some of those blogs posts here and here). I think one of the best perks of this quarantine/shutdown period is that it's nearly impossible to date (and don't get me started on Zoom dates. If the best part of most dates is the free food, then why would I agree to a meal-less, virtual date?!). I haven't had to deal with a single disrespectful word or inappropriate touch this entire time. I'm devastated that I can't see my friends and do all the fun things I'm used to doing, but there's certainly a silver lining to this situation in confirming my feelings that I am so much happier when I don't have to be disrespected by men on the regular. Stadtmiller goes on to realize that she is "the soul mate I have been looking for all this time." No one can love you, value you, or treasure you the way you can yourself. Hallelujah!
Of course... she finishes the book with her whirlwind love story of finding the perfect man who sees who she truly is and supports her and loves her and within a year they're married. Blah. I mean, it's not like I'm not happy for her: I was crying reading about how perfect they are for each other and how they are the epitome of soulmates. But I was left with the same feeling from any other romantic story: the woman MUST find a man to truly be happy. God, I hate that messaging. It's like the female destiny that, try as we might, we have no control over. It's both a primitive and futurist voice repeating: "Woman, find man, be happy, OR die unhappy; pick one." I just want to tune it out, once and for all.
That's not to say that there weren't a few revelations that I could learn from. After she's found The One (gag), Stadtmiller says, "Yes, I may have felt safe and certain with the concept of 'unwifeability' ...[But] you are always pure potential - always limitless possibility." I can admit that I have created the strong, confident, single woman identity for myself, and I live in that bubble. Maybe I see myself as "unwifeable" because, if I were to fall in love and get married, how could I maintain my identity as the fiercely independent woman I am? Perhaps I do have what the author calls a "fixed identity," an idea of myself that I believe in so strongly that it's difficult to see myself as anything else, even though we all inevitably change over time with lessons learned, experiences gained, etc. And in the afterward of the book (not included in all editions), she lays out this nugget: "The future is unknown. But it can be anything that you want it to be if you stop needing to control every step along the way." While I consider myself a die-hard planner, I'm not one of those people with a five-year plan or anything like that; in general, I try to live by this mantra, "If it makes me happy, do it, and if it doesn't, don't." But perhaps in controlling my day-to-day (minute-to-minute, let's be honest) with things that do bring me joy, that could be just as bad. Before this pandemic hit, my typical weekly planner would look something like this:
Monday: Go to work, go to a barre class, go to yoga
Tuesday: Attend spin class, go to work, go to a barre class, grab dinner with a friend
Wednesday: Go to a Body Pump class, go to work, go to a barre class, go to my Judaism class
Thursday: Take a spin class, go to work, go to a barre class, go blues dancing
Friday: Go to work, grab a drink somewhere, go to Shabbat services/dinner
Saturday: Go to a barre class, meet up with a friend, go see a concert/ballet/show
Sunday: Take a barre class, have brunch, run errands/do chores (which, because I love being as productive as possible, does indeed make me happy), watch a movie at home
While I don't think I'm trying to control the future, as a natural organizer, I do end up controlling it, even if it's not in a long-term way. Normally I plan social outings several weeks in advance; I'd joke with friends that they were being "cute" thinking I'd be free for a spontaneous get-together with just a few days' notice. At least now I have ZERO plans due to the pandemic, so I'm free whenever anything (if anything?) comes up. Everything is so uncertain these days that it's almost impossible to plan ahead, not knowing what life is going to be like from one month to the next. So perhaps, while not of my own doing, I have given up the need to control the future! Now we all just have to wait and see what happens...
Anyway, now you can see why I couldn't include my review of this book in my other blog post where I've reviewed multiple books I've read during this shutdown (that one will be posted once the shutdown ends!). This review was just way too long, and I had too much to say.
*The same goes for Valenti's book. Read my review of Sex Object here.
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