I write a lot about women’s self-respect, about the need for self-realization, about the feeling of self-worth, regardless of whether you have a man or not. The fact that a woman should not forget about her wishes, dreams, plans, aspirations, and not live as Nietzsche wrote – “The happiness of a man is called: I want. A woman’s happiness is called: he wants” – 119 years after his death.
Men are needed and important in a woman’s life. But I am categorically against it when a man, or rather, a relationship with him, becomes an end in itself for a woman, such that for her sake she is ready to forget herself, to be in a terrible relationship just for the sake of not being alone, not being without money, to save a hateful marriage , if only society would not look askance at the “divorced woman” or not feel guilty for “leaving the children without a father.”
Often I use grotesque images and harsh metaphors for this, but not to offend women, but to stir them up. Show how it happens when you don’t think about yourself, that life is one, that the money that a man can give will not pay for those spiritual wounds that will certainly arise where there are no mutual feelings. To say that youth and beauty are valuable, but fleeting gifts, to be thoughtlessly squandered.
And, of course, my most furious haters are women, not men, although it would seem that I don’t stand on ceremony with men. Women who are angry with their lives, but are not yet ready to change something in it. Therefore, they prefer to hate a psychologist: “The woman herself is unsatisfied”, “Your husband probably left you”, “I would not go to such a psychologist.”
You can hate me as much as you want – my life will not change from this. But you can change your life, and maybe the experience of the heroine of my next story will help you with this. Which is published on her behalf and with her permission.
A Girl for Grandpa: A Life Story
“When I got married, I was 20 years old. And he is 65. Then I did not understand that I was fit for his granddaughter. Now I understand that at that time I did not know what I was doing at all. But nothing can be returned.
I was born in a distant city. My parents died when I was 6 years old. That’s why I went to boarding school. I was expelled from school after the 9th grade – there was a conflict with the teacher, and this turned out to be enough to send me, still a girl, on a solitary voyage. Of course, without money, support and in a communal apartment with alcoholics. I did not know what to do and how to continue to live.
I got a job as a market trader to earn some money. There was still little money, and the work was hard. But without education, without a normal profession, there was simply no chance for something else. But at the market, I met a girl who said that her grandmother lives in the capital, and offered to move there together. So back in 1990, together with a friend, we came to conquer the capital. They lived with her grandmother, on the outskirts, worked in the same trading tent as in their hometown, but dreamed of entering the Institute of Foreign Languages.
Went to a Japanese language course. A friend met her future husband, a Japanese, there. Gradually, we formed a circle of Japanese expat acquaintances. Once we were invited to a birthday party in their company, where I met my future husband.
He was then the president of a profitable company, that’s what attracted me to him – nothing else, he was ugly, not young and he smelled bad! But I did not think about it, it seemed to me a chance for a prosperous life.
But I had to sleep with him, and therefore, before I went to bed with him, I drank so as not to vomit from his embrace. I tried to avoid sex as much as possible, but it was impossible not to have it at all, and every time I forced myself to go to him and lie down. Our relationship was normal, even good, if not for sex.
In everyday life, I tried not to argue with him – so my husband even gave more money. Of course, he noticed that I was drinking, but I explained that I was not very interested in sex, and drinking wine is even useful. While he wasn’t particularly concerned that I was cold in bed, he was more interested in himself. So we lived for 5 years, and then he started having problems in business, the money was melting, and I left him. He later returned to Japan and we never saw each other again.
To someone from the outside, my life at that time could seem like a paradise: I went shopping, spent money. There were thoughts about studying, but foolishly, I thought that with a divorce I would get a good sum, and it would be more than you can earn by teaching Japanese. In reality, I got alcoholism, from which I was treated for a long time.
Now I don’t drink at all. But health is lost. As is most of life. I can’t change my story, but maybe my experience can change others. Those that have not yet begun, but only pleasantly excite the blood with thoughts of how good it is to spend other people’s money. But in which there is still no understanding of what will have to be paid for this.
To my articles “A Girl for Grandpa: Is It Worth It?” and “The Psychology of Greed: Young Girls’ Race to Rich Lives” were especially filled with indignant female comments. The fact that these beautiful older men are bright and talented personalities that will charm anyone and hands off them, they have the right to love.
Of course they do. As does each of us. Only for some reason they want love not from peers or from those who are younger within reason. They are looking for love in 20-year-old nymphs. And the nymphs are bought. And they are sold. And of course, what to do with your body is a personal matter for everyone. But it seems to me that a woman with a healthy self-esteem does not need to sell herself at all. And I’m all for healthy self-esteem.