Women who love themselves are threatening; but men who love real women, more so. –Naomi Wolf, The Beauty Myth

Since I was old enough to interact with boys, I’ve seen this weird sort of double standard that exists between men and women. I can’t say that I’ve necessarily fallen victim to it a bunch of times (because I like to think that I’m smarter than that) but I’ve seen it a lot. And honestly, I’ve witnessed men try to pull the wool over my eyes like I’m some kind of uneducated twelve-year-old and lately, I’ve stopped that nonsense in its tracks. But it wasn’t always that way.

And I feel like a lot of times, especially with all of these arguments swirling around about gender roles and the inequality of men and women, double standards are all over the place and we just aren’t really picking up on it. I feel like I’ve literally seen it every day, both in my personal life, and all over social media. It seems like everyone has a part to play, like everyone is engaged in this twisted act that is supposed to lead outsiders to believe their life is so perfect. People you’ve known to be raging alcoholics who sat alone at seedy bars until 5 in the morning are suddenly depicting themselves as devoted family men; women who sit around doing nothing all day give off the impression that they’re busier than Donald Trump’s media handler and we’re all supposed to believe it like it’s gospel.

It’s nonsense, friends. None of it seems real and it’s really quite bizarre to me. I don’t understand it. The lengths that people seem to go in order to prove some sort of inaccurate point seems crazy to me.

But honestly, I’ve also seen a lot of this in relationships. While it’s no secret that a lot of my girlfriends seem to have a history with garbage boyfriends, I find that so many of them are living these double standards every day. I know so many women, some of them are even married, who are in these kind of unfair relationships where double standards seem to run rampant.

I’ve got one girlfriend in particular whose husband goes out like it’s his actual job. And while he isn’t doing anything that’s worrisome, while he’s not engaging in any kind of illicit activities, he goes out with his friends almost every single night. Sometimes she’ll blandly defend him saying something to the effect of, “It gets on my nerves but he works a lot; it’s his one release.”

And honestly, I’m not disputing that. I don’t think that this man is a piece of garbage because he likes to grab a couple drinks with his friends after work. When I was still working in retail, that was also part of my ritual because there was a welcoming bar within walking distance. And to be fair, relationships flourish when each part of the couple has alone time. It’s probably only fair that this man should get to kill a bottle of whiskey with his friends after working upwards of sixty hours of week. I mean, we all deserve that, don’t we? We all could benefit from a little self-care, lest we self-destruct.

But what annoys me is when she and I go out (which is very few and far between because we’re more of a pedicure and shopping crowd), he is kind of dictating the time she spends “on the town”. He’s asking questions like, “Did you take the dogs out before you went out?” and “How late are you going to be out? How many drinks have you had? How are you getting home?” And I get totally that; they’re married. It’s only respectful to keep in contact with your significant other, to let them know your plans, and to arrive home at a reasonable hour, especially if you’re married. But I can’t help but feel like it’s a double standard. He goes out nearly every night, for hours on end, with whoever decides to join his group, but she’s got “rules” when she goes out once in a blue? It just doesn’t seem fair.

We cannot negotiate with people who say what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is negotiable. –John F. Kennedy

I noticed this propensity for a double standard a lot in one of my previous relationships. This particular ex-boyfriend was very social and had tons of female friends. In fact, because he wasn’t much of a texter, he would even make phone calls to a lot of them and have really long conversations with them about their daily lives. He worked with women and spent a lot of intimate hours with them because he was a firefighter. He was relatively close friends with his male co-worker’s wives and he stayed pretty close with his close-knit high school friends, who were a co-ed group of individuals.

I remember when we first got together, I was sometimes included in these outings and honestly, there would be just as many women at these parties as there were men. There wasn’t any kind of awkwardness because everyone had sort of grown up together and it seemed like he had developed genuine friendships with the majority of these people. I remember it never really struck me as odd or something that I should be uncomfortable about because I would always catch him talking to some of the girls on the phone, catching up with various couples from high school when we bumped into them in public places, and inviting them out with their significant others. It never seemed like something that was inappropriate. They were honest, relatively solid, platonic friendships with the opposite sex.

And if I still know my ex the way I used too, he’s probably still really close with all of those people. Being a social butterfly was something that was always very important to him. And to his credit, he was always really good at staying in touch with people.

And because he had so many female friends that seemed to matriculate in and out of our house and our lives, I figured that it would be more than appropriate for me to have male friends. Because back then, I actually had some. But it turns out that my assumption was wildly inaccurate.

If I talked socially to any other males, it was a war. And this wasn’t just limited to my personal group of male friends. If I had any kind of outside communication with any of his male friends when he wasn’t around, it was a war. If I had any kind of inside joke with his brother or spoke with him about something in passing, it was a war. And honestly, this was a bit of an ordeal because my ex-boyfriend’s best friend and brother lived with us. It wasn’t like I could just avoid them or be disrespectful to them when they tried to be friendly and make conversation. But it turned out that not making eye contact became one of my best tools to combat the probable conversation and the wars between my ex-boyfriend and I gradually dissipated. As long as I only spoke directly to one male individual: him.

And to be fair, there were a lot of things about that relationship that were absolutely inappropriate and unsafe but at that time, I didn’t really notice any of it. In my ex’s defense, I had never really fought to have those male friends. I had never begged him to understand that my relationships with them were purely platonic, except for maybe once or twice. After a while, it was just easier to be subservient and do what he wanted. That man really liked to argue and I, quite frankly, just never had the energy for it.

But it’s easy to see how crazy all of that was looking back on it because of course, hindsight is 20/20. Now I can clearly see that the majority of our relationship was built on a lack of trust, double standards, and unfair treatment. Now I fully understand how ludicrous it was that he could have tons of female friends and talk to them on the phone for hours on end but I could barely make eye contact with our male roommate or the waiter at Chili’s.  

Sure there was power and control but you want to talk about gender inequality? I think that man could probably teach a class on how to make a woman subservient. And he was so charismatic and such an awesome liar, I think people would actually fall for his nonsense. They would probably take it home to their relationships!

Terrifying.

People who criticize the harshest are usually the ones who would trade places the fastest. –Gary Hopkins

One time, I was kind of dating this man who absolutely did not have a controlling bone in his body. He was kind, very welcoming, and always willing to hear me out no matter what the situation was. He was sensitive and thoughtful, pretty generous when it came to buying gifts, and was always really honest with me.

I had gotten in a relationship with him around the time that I had finally severed all ties with my aforementioned super controlling ex-boyfriend. I was sort of flying free for a while and was enjoying the freedom to go out and socialize. But because sometimes the heart is a weak, annoying organ, I decided to put that on hold once again for this new, much nicer guy. I still went out (because he wasn’t controlling and didn’t dictate what I did or who I was with) but I would sort of hear about it from time to time. He would kind of tease me and say things like, “You’re a party girl,” or “You’re so popular!” and while he never tried to actually stop me from going out, it was pretty clear he didn’t want me to.

One night, I remember that we had made these pretty particular plans on a Friday or Saturday night. I had the apartment all to myself because my Nazi, conniving roommate was working a bartending shift at the strip club where she was employed. (Her favorite thing to do was run to my ex-boyfriend and tell him about all my houseguests. Apparently between having two pretty full time jobs and experimenting with homosexuality, she still had no life. All she liked to do for fun was “roll” on Ecstasy and tell on me.)

Anyways, we had these specific plans to hang out at my apartment since for once, it was pretty close to empty. We would watch a Rob Zombie movie on my rented couch and then eat something homemade for dinner. I had even dressed really cute for the occasion.

But as the time for our date got closer, he began sporadically texting me. He told me that he was at a birthday party for his best female friend (who he later confessed to have really strong feelings for), but that our date was really important to him. He was always really cute in the way he spoke to me (maybe because he liked to read pretty avidly) and that night he kept telling me, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world; I’m just running behind.”

And at first, I wasn’t really that angry. I had just descended from a relationship that was riddled with control and arguments and I wasn’t about to get mad over something so small. And I certainly wasn’t going to demand that he just come over because well, that’s never been my style. So I sat on that rented, leather couch and watched Butterfly Effect. By myself.

When the movie ended, he still wasn’t there and I hadn’t heard from him. I texted him, under the impression that he was probably on his way to my house but shock of the century, he wasn’t. He told me he would be leaving soon, though. And by this point, I got a little frustrated because it was nearing midnight. I mean, how long was I supposed to pathetically wait around for him to come over and watch a stupid movie?

I ended up telling him not to bother. I washed off my make up and went to bed because I was sick of trying to wait up for him. I don’t like waiting around for people and quite frankly, I would have been annoyed if he canceled but I would have understood. I probably would have made alternate plans. Or maybe just laid in bed with a book and some Seagram’s Seven and diet Coke because that’s what I drank back then.

But while I was lying in bed with my freshly washed face and flossed teeth, I started thinking about what really annoyed me about this whole situation. It wasn’t that he blew me off or that he was with another woman that he was clearly attracted to. What bothered me was that he had made it pretty clear that he didn’t want me to go out. Sure, he wasn’t a dick about it but he made a point to discuss his discomfort with it, to always kind of tease me about it, and to be pretty blatant about the fact that he thought I went out too much. And then, after all that, he flakes out on our plans because he was at a party?

But I was the party girl? No.

That relationships obviously didn’t make it much farther past that. And what’s funny looking back on all of it is that both that other girl and I got married to other people within a few months of each other. And I’m pretty sure that guy is still kind of single…

Moral of the Crazy: You know, my husband and I were just having this discussion the other day. He has a thing about really hating political posts, no matter what they’re about and quite frankly, he’s really sick of hearing everyone whining about Trump in the White House. And it isn’t because he has any particular political opinion; it’s because it is just never ending. That man can’t sip a cup of coffee without the world filling up every newspaper about what a disaster he is. It’s really kind of annoying, to be honest.

But anyway, we were talking about how the world is just on this “women’s equality” kick and how now with Trump, it seems like no matter what you say or who you’re saying it to, you’re a racist, you’re a bigot, and you degrade women. There’s marches all over the world and women screaming about paying taxes for tampons; there’s people parading themselves all over the street wearing giant vaginas on their heads, and quite frankly, if I hear one more “grab her by the pussy joke” I’m probably going to crime on someone…

But what’s crazy to me, and what my husband and I spoke about in depth, is how people are just worshipping Fifty Shades of Grey. I mean, here’s the thing, I’ve read those books (save the third one because to be honest with you, the writing is god awful. It’s literally like an eighth grader wrote them…) and here’s my assessment: The man that people are suddenly so obsessed with, the billionaire Christian Grey, who is allegedly such a romantic and plays a role in one of the “best love stories ever written”, is controlling, manipulative and abusive. I mean, there is literally a section in the first book that explains their “contract”.

She has to dress a certain way, she has to behave in a certain way when she’s representing him, she has to work out so many times a week and maintain a particular physique, not to mention his weird sexual habits. I mean, that’s just the icing on the cake, if I’m honest. That “awesome, billionaire, romantic” piece of Audi driving garbage is literally controlling her in every aspect of her life. And it’s hilarious to me that women fall all over this story like it’s some sort of beautiful, neo version of Romeo and Juliet. People ramble on about how it’s this enlightening story of two people that came from different places and somehow found each other and fell in love. Is that a sick joke?

That’s West Side Story, guys. Not Fifty Shades of Grey.

People have treated these damn movie premieres like they were something the same caliber as Titanic or the new Star Wars. And you know what’s nonsense? It’s probably the same people who are protesting and crying about human rights. It’s probably all the same people that think Trump is an arrogant, insensitive asshole who doesn’t know how to respect women. And let me just clarify something for you: I’m not getting into a political debate about this. I’m just stating facts. And if you’re going to sit there and pretend like Fifty Shades of Grey isn’t absolutely degrading and abusive to women everywhere, then there is something severely wrong with society.

I mean, aside from being a billionaire, which I could honestly take or leave, I don’t know what this man is really offering her. Abusive poundings? A dictated lunch menu? The inability to pick her own wardrobe? That all sounds terrible to me.

And I guess the whole point of this discussion (besides ranting about how much I loathe that “trilogy”) is to point out the double standard in it all. You can’t sit around and cry about inequality and then worship Fifty Shades of Grey. It makes zero sense. And I don’t want to insult anyone because I know a lot of people [inexplicably] like it but it doesn’t make any sense. You know I actually heard somewhere that while Jamie Dornan was filming the first movie, he had to go home and spend tons of time in the shower to decompress before he could physically touch his wife. Because he was so uncomfortable by all of it in the beginning.

Obviously, he got through it because everybody wants to be famous, right? Just an interesting little behind the scenes factoid. Brought to you by your favorite alleged love story.

And while my purpose here isn’t to make enemies (because there’s a lot of Christian Grey fan girls around here…), I just wanted to really speak in depth about double standards because it’s clearly an epidemic. And even outside of the whole Fifty Shades trilogy, I feel like I saw so much of it during the election. I guess sometimes what happens when you’re choosing sides is that you’re so hell bent on attacking someone, you forget what you really stand for. Maybe you let some things go by that you would ordinarily freak out about because you figure you’ve got to pick your battles. You’re not really trying to engage in double standards; sometimes it just happens.

But as far as relationships go, I can’t help but feel like double standards have absolutely no place residing there. I mean, like I mentioned with my partnership blog awhile back, being in a relationship isn’t like being in a dictatorship. It doesn’t mean that one person is in charge and one person follows the precedential rules. It doesn’t mean that one person can behave in any manner they deem appropriate, while the other person has to incessantly behave themselves. It doesn’t mean that one person can go out and gallivant all night, while the other person gets lectures for going to the grocery store after 7 pm.

Maybe it’s just that I’ve always lived by that golden rule: Treat others the way you would want to be treated. I can’t claim to be some kind of bleeding heart reminiscent of a Gandhi but I try to be fair. I try really hard to treat everyone equally, to treat them as I would want to be treated, and to remember that it’s not fair to allow some people certain privileges. I also try really hard to practice what I preach. And not just what I preach but everything I preach.

And you know, to be fair, I don’t know that these double standards are always intentional. In the case of my nightmare of an ex-boyfriend, for example, I think that he probably suffered from some kind of debilitating mental issue (and I’m not even being funny) that made him kind of crazy. I don’t think he woke up every morning and said, “How can I make my girlfriend feel like a piece of garbage today?” I think he genuinely suffered from some kind of borderline personality disorder or maybe bipolar or OCD. I mean, I don’t know, I’m not a developmental psychologist.

But as much of an asshole as he was to me, I don’t think he tried to be like that. I think it’s just who he was.

And that’s not to defend his awful behavior and chronic engagement with double standards. I think we just have to remember that sometimes bad people can’t control themselves. (Although if you were to say that to my husband, he would go on a tangent about how bad behavior is a weakness. He would say that it’s all about mind over matter. But he doesn’t like to offer excuses for people like I do.) I guess it’s just that as much as double standards annoy me, I honestly believe that based on some individuals’ character traits, maybe they can’t help being a little hypocritical. Maybe they can’t help the double standards they’re a part of.  Maybe they can’t really register the fact that they’re controlling man children.

I guess it’s just that with every topic I chose to elaborate on, all we can really do is make an attempt to be better people every day. We can’t sit around complaining about what’s wrong with the world; we’ve got to change it. We can’t just waste away the day trying to control what other people do; we have to try and lead by example. We can’t just treat women like objects and expect them to stay in a caged relationship; we have to show them what it feels like to be loved and respected.

Just try and live as you want others to live. Because it isn’t fair to be a raging alcoholic and then condemn someone else for partying too hard. Because it’s not fair to demand things in a relationship when you’re not doing the work yourself.

And most importantly, make your words sweet ones. Because like my Uncle Donald always told me, you never know when you’ll have to eat them later.

Morality is what the queen expects from the hive, not from herself. –Marty Rubin

Follow me at my twitter page @thatcrzk8 for more updates and rants about my neurotic abnormalities and celebrity obsessions. Be sure to subscribe to my up and coming YouTube channel to stay up to date on the things that grind my gears, specials about domestic violence awareness, and reasons I love my South African, jerky making husband! More videos to come soon!