Women lie. They lie easily, often, and without any sense of guilt. This is all easy and rather fun to prove which I’ll show you later. The question that lingers in the air, like smoke, is how do they live with themselves given the blatant immorality of what they’re up to?
I struggled with this after I discovered my first wife was someone’s mistress at the time I married her, and that she continued in that role until her lover divorced his wife; at which point she left me and married him. My marriage was apparently used as leverage to torpedo the ex-wife. I drove round to the house he bought for her after the nuptials, big and solid as a brick shithouse.
My second wife used to give blowjobs to my cameraman in the parking lot of the television station we both worked for while I was in the editing booth. How did she keep the smirk out of her eyes later? That’s the question I’m about to answer.
The key to understanding this is to realize that all women today are the daughters of slaves; slaves both in the physical sense and mental sense. Until a hundred years ago, women were chattel and were passed from father to husband at a public ceremony called a wedding. All the aggressive, self-aware, moral women were long since gone; killed in disputes with their partners or the enemies of their family and tribe. The rest greeted their conquerors as heroes, threw flowers at them and opened their legs.
As slaves, women developed a kind of prisoner mentality: no snitching with the guards, secret codes, networking, compartmentalization of thought. This went on for generations, decades, millennia, until we arrive at today where these patterns of thought and actions are genetic as well as cultural. Women live in a world of compartments. They have one for their partner, a second for their female friends, a third for a lover, and a fourth for their imagination. Actually, they can expand that number easily to create a separate box for every one of their relationships.
They way they manage to live with themselves, questioned above, is to believe that nothing that happens in one compartment impacts anything in any other compartment. So, since an affair is in a separate box from a marriage, there’s no moral problem involved. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him is what they believe. If an infidelity were to occur in the husband box, let’s say with a mutual friend, well then there would be a crisis, but not of morality, but rather practicality. Her first reaction would be anger at whoever called her out, and secondly, ‘Where do I live now?’
Consider the issue of privacy. It’s a very big issue for women. They hate it, loathe it, if a former boyfriend shows up during a new relationship. He is immediately accused of “stalking” her or worse. The very last thing any woman wants is for a former flame to have a chat with a current lover. All her lies would be exposed immediately; so bad mouth him on social media, threaten to get him fired, apply for a restraining order, make “revenge porn” illegal; anything and everything to keep the boxes separate.
This is why when you ask a woman to tell you about herself, she’s momentarily stumped for an answer. Which of her many stories should she give you? Quel problème.
I said earlier I’d show you proof of how women lie. Here’s the first proof: ask your girlfriend how many men she’s slept with. She won’t tell you; that’s private. Actually, she won’t tell you because if she did you’d be appalled at the number, the age of the partners, the sexual games they played, and the number of times money or favors were exchanged. What do I mean by that last crack? I mean that trips, apartment loans, car rides and clothing went one way and sex went the other. Yes, from your little Betty. Shocking, I know.
Secondly, listen closely when a friend or family member asks your partner to come over, join them for an event, or go to choir practice. She’ll say she has a cold, a previous appointment or her period, but that she’d love to join her some other time. The mother-in-law or girlfriend is mollified, and your honey will go on with her day as if nothing has happened. As is always the case with women, a little white lie is easier than honesty if it smooths over a potential social conflict.
Here’s a third proof. Listen to a woman describe a major event you both lived through, like a boat capsizing, a fight at a bar or a bride throwing up at the reception. Look for exaggeration for effect. Once you do it will stand out like a sore thumb. Women not only lie, they exaggerate everything. And exaggeration is just another form of lying.
Back to wife number two. When I demanded an explanation for her adultery, she demanded to know who told me. I gave her a name. “That bitch,” she shouted. “I’ll scratch her eyes out.”
Note that the issue wasn’t that she’d cheated on me—it was that her girlfriend had told me. The girlfriend had broken the prisoner taboo; snitching to the guard. The girlfriend had breached the invisible barrier that separates one female box from another.
In my whole life, that young woman stands out as exceptional, as an exception to the rule that women lie. She told me what was going on because my wife was planning to have her lover’s baby and call it mine. That was a bridge too far for the girlfriend, who spilled the beans.
Thank you, Ruth, wherever you are.