Sunday, 11 October 2009

My X-Boyfriend and his Blow-Up Girlfriend(s)



Few things are worse than being compared (at a public function) to your ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend. Substitute the term girlfriend with ‘bonded slave’, ‘sex toy’ or ‘submissive miss’.

What would you say/do if a friend of your ex-boyfriend’s marched up to you in a crowded venue, with all London’s beautiful and brilliant there, and started to hector you about your ex-boyfriend’s new ‘love’ interest?
I was with friends of mine at a large social event yesterday, and friend-of-X-boyfriend marched up to me. Friend-of-X-boyfriend's eyes were staring intensely at me. He was dressed in sailor ensemble, with blue and white colour scheme. Friend-of-X-boyfriend beckoned to me, ‘I want a word’ he said. Like a fool, I left my group of friends and talked to him.
There were no pleasantries; this conversation with sailor suit was firstly a discussion of my CV. No doubt so that sailor/SPY-of-X-boyfriend can sail back and report on his findings. I hope sailor/spy gets at least a drink for his troubles from my ex-rotter.
‘So you have a job, I assume you have a job...’ Spy said eagerly.
‘Yeah I have a job that pays the bills...’ I stammered.
‘I heard Phil that you were working for Con. That can hardly be a great income spinner.’
I nodded. I wouldn’t confirm or deny if my job was an ‘income spinner’.
‘Well I enjoy my work, thanks, and are you still – ‘
‘Whereabouts do you live?’
I gave him my Zone One address.
‘Really? You must have money to burn living in that neck of the woods. Money to burn. Wouldn’t expect you to have the dosh mind you.’
‘Good to see you’re as...ahem...direct as before’
Sailor/spy then gave me a hard stare and declared, ‘and I assume you know that your old flame, your dearest X has a new girlfriend. Lovely lady. Not the most attractive though, you’d score on her there, but X has done really well for himself with her. In point of fact, X has done really well for himself professionally too. He’s raking in the cash. Joined the company of his choice to boot.’
At the mention of X I felt physically sick. Head ‘swimming’ and heart hammering. I became dizzy and Sailor/spy started to look fuzzy. These are the same symptoms of anxiety that I suffer whenever I am unfortunate enough to hear X’s name.
‘Good for him. I’m glad he’s doing so well.’ I said as upbeat as possible.
‘Yeah, his new girl wants to do everything right. She wants to forget completely about her life before X.’ Was Sailor-spy remotely conscious of how misogynist he sounded? What was this conversation happening in the 1540?
‘She’s eager to please him so?’ I raised my eyebrows.
‘Yeah!’ sailor said enthusiastically. ‘She’s not the same religion as he is, but she’s taking instruction on how to become a convert. Very impressive that.’
My throat tightened in disgust. Religion is sometimes just a social pageantry where ‘actors’ in the religion just play their ‘role’ in order to become part of the play. To play along with other actors. Not for anything greater or better. Clearly, new-girlfriend was looking to join X and his religious dramatics.

‘Oh, and she’s not quite as bright and well read as X is, so she’s trying her best to catch up. She’s getting to grips with all his favourite books and films. Also, she’s dressing in a more classical way, you know the way X likes women to dress.’ Sailor-spy then shrugged his shoulders playfully. ‘I think our friend X is encouraging her to shop in Laura Ashley more than New Look. According to X’s standards, she’s doing very well.’
From sailor-spy’s description, he made her sound like a mail-order bride, that had specifications on a catalogue. You know, ‘this bride isn’t as good looking as the rest, but she makes up for it by being very subservient. She will shop in what clothes shops you tell her to. She will read your favourite books.’
‘Oh she must be a very good girl, who does exactly what she’s told. You know stereotypically submissive. Let’s him get away with things.’ I snorted.
‘She’s that alright. It’s their kids that I’ll feel sorry for...’ said sailor-spy, suppressing a chuckle, ‘they’ll have his shaggy dog hair and her blow fish face. Revolting!' Sailor-spy is one charming friend to X. Sailor-spy quickly added ‘But really Phil, he’s done very well for himself. Very well! You coulda’ done worse than X.’ Resisting the temptation to challenge sailor-spy and declare, ‘I will never give that creep a second chance.’ I said, ‘I could do worse than him? Like you would know.’ Before sailor could answer back, I said,
‘I’ll get back to my friends. Good to see you again after all this time. Bye.’
‘Oh, but let’s have some tea and cakes –‘
I pretended not to hear the tea invitation.

Reflecting on this conversation, it’s no bad thing that I made sailor-spy aware that I think X’s new girlfriend a submissive miss. But who am I to look down on this ‘lovely lady’? Had I not fallen for this rotter, been for too long his silly submissive girlfriend? Had I not endured his harassment? Had I not let him roughly rip my clothes off me (the police call it strip searching), all because he wanted to punish me for being upset with him?

Sailor’s comments about her doing all the right things to placate X brought back painful memories. Of having ear-phones pulled from my ears because I was listening to ‘rubbish’ music. Of having to witness my boy ‘friend’ in furious, trembling form, because I wasn’t wearing ‘smart’ enough shoes.

I know, he sounds like a monster, but he was so nice, generous and smooth at the beginning. I wasn’t psychic enough to know that he had a split personality.
Something in sailor-spy’s description of the new girlfriend made her sound desperate, and needy. But maybe she just fell for the same lies that I did. Maybe his ‘wooing’ technique is still the same, pretend to be the perfect gentleman, send the flowers, shower the girl with gifts and love letters, and tell her you love her a million times a day. Tell her the three words when you are speaking in an angelic tone, but also tell her ‘I love you’ when you are plying her with a drink after belittling her in front of all your friends. His ‘woo’ method is a bit on the traditional, predictable level, but it works.

Now, the majority of women that I know have had one if not a string of ‘difficult’ boyfriends. I prefer to call these men ‘rotters’. They don’t just look for sex, they look for the thrill in bamboozling and pressurising (bullying?) a woman into sex and sexual experimentation. Most of these women aren’t as fortunate and blessed as I was in escaping the emotional black mailers so easily. At least I ended the relationship with him, of my own accord, and at least he didn’t get to rape me. I remember going to my GP with severe headaches around the time I was thinking of breaking up with the rotter, and the doc grimaced and said, ‘patients of mine who have described a boyfriend such as yours are very often raped by these boyfriends...’ Later I asked this doctor if the same pattern of angelic-boyfriend morphing into devil-boyfriend would happen if my boyfriend met someone else. ‘Well he’ll have had more practice by the time he meets his new girl. She’ll have bruises, but they’ll be the sort that the evening gown will cover.’

Yes, I’ve escaped without being violently raped, but I can’t help but feel enormous anger that this individual has just got another girl that he can treat like a blow-up doll. I used to go to Roman Catholic Churches and pray that X would not find a new girlfriend. ‘PLEASE DEAR JESUS’, I would implore, ‘please let him not find another dupe. Dear Lord, let the girls see his vile side before they go out with him! Let him never harm another girl!’ Bearing in mind what my GP had said, and the intimate details of his character, I didn’t see him treating any girl with respect. No matter how nice her clothes were.

A historian friend of mine assures me that there were societies in the past where men such as X were horse whipped for physically and sexually intimidating a woman. We can’t hope for that in today’s times, but perhaps they could convert the Travel Lodge in Slough to a holding area/detention centre for such villains. The rotters could get therapy and have group sessions, much like people who are addicted to substances. In the case of the rotters, it would be an addiction to harming women. The organisers of this detention centre could have blow up dolls, and the rotters could role play with them, you know basic lessons would be learned with the doll such as ‘do not shove or slap your girlfriend.’ ‘Don’t call your girlfriend a slut.’ ‘Don’t tell your girlfriend that she’s fat.’ ‘Don’t rip the blow up doll’s clothes off. That’s a Laura Ashley blouse!’

3 comments:

  1. Phil, you go girl! I’m so glad you ended it with the ‘rotter’. It’s a good example to all the sufferin’ women out there; drop the rotter. Well done for telling the truth Phil. Too many women put up with rubbish boyfriends because they earn enough funds, and are doing so well for themselves. The women are as bad as the boyz sometimes; they want a rich boy with a good job. It looks nice for Mammy and Daddy.
    Love the fantasy of ‘detention centre’ in Slough. I would nominate a few for the detention centre. What about sending my fellow who used to get me drunk and then do a number on me.

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  2. Thank God that a woman is writing about the harsh experience of being used as a 'doll'. I have my own tales about such ‘men’ who want dolls and not women. I know what you’re saying about them wanting to decide what clothes a girl wears. I had a boyfriend who wanted me to wear ‘tight, knitted things’ to make me look ‘sexy’, for his viewing pleasure. It really is all about appearances; show casing the girl. The same guy told me that I embarrassed him for getting sick in a restaurant. You can dress a doll any way you want. A doll won’t embarrass you by getting sick. Your post has given me a lot to think about. I suppose it would be off the wall to send my ex-boyfriend (and your ex-boyfriend Phil) a Barbie doll, with a note saying ‘this is the girlfriend for you’.

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  3. Are we like 1970’s feminists or what? When’s the bra-burning, testicle roasting event being held? Lock the men up in the detention centre? Torture them with plastic dolls? Girls, no one forced ye to go out with these b*******! Ye decided for yeerselves that ye’d go out with them. C’mon, didn’t alarm bells go off when he wouldn’t let you listen to your music?

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Greetings! Welcome to my blog on how to find eternal love like that of Romeo and Juliet. Ah, fair Romeo and Juliet, the most celebrated romantic couple in history; who hath not wanted to have a relationship like theirs? But lo! Romeo and Juliet waited until marriage before having sex. If it worked for them, can it work for us? I hope that by writing this blog many people can find help, and advice on sexual matters. Oh, I am a twenty-something writer based in London. I was named after the Grecian princess, St. Philomena. The original St. Philomena, who wanted to love only Jesus Christ, was decapitated by the Emporer Diocletian because she refused to marry him. I, however, feel called to marriage. Oh that I would be a 2009 Juliet!

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