It starts with that grating feeling in the pit of your stomach, works its way up to the base of your neck, and shakes your intuition awake. Your man is seeing somebody else — you think. Besides running up on him vigilante-style with Joey Greco and his Cheaters camera crew in tow, your other option is to do your own behind-the-scenes investigative work to confirm your suspicions. You know the drill: check pants pockets, sniff shirts, rifle through car consoles, dig in gym bags, scan store receipts, crack Facebook passwords, read text messages.
Those who seek shall almost always inevitably find, so when we gals uncover proof of his doggishness, our first step is usually one of two things: a) confront him, or b) confront the other woman.
Sometimes she’s completely unaware that the dude has a girlfriend or, even worse, a wife. In that case, it’s kind of hard to hold her responsible when your man has worked just as hard to deceive her as he did to deceive you. But sometimes she’s just a bold, brash, and brazen heifer who could give two pieces of nothing about y’all being in love since college, your two kids, or the house you just bought together in your hometown. She’s just trying to get hers.
And that? That right there is the brand of other woman that makes otherwise rational, level-headed, civilized ladies act like somebody off the highlight reel of Snapped. I mean, a homewrecker does open herself up to a certain brand of street justice, as archaic and un-PTA mom as it might be.
But all too often, we get so completely blindsided by our hatred of the recently discovered other woman that we forget to give just dues to the fellas who are at the whole root and source of the situations. They get to scuttle around unscathed — and in their simple little twisted man minds, sometimes convince themselves that we’re fighting over them — while our female bravado flares up, acts out, and puts all of our good, God-given common sense in a choke-hold.
While we’re stalking, threatening, and following the side chicks (and don’t think I don’t know that you’re doing it. Calling her boss and telling him that she has crabs. Shame on you!), the dudes are relishing in their adventures and have become the #1 storytellers down at the barbershop because we fail to throw the whole blame and responsibility at them, not the fool broads they slept with.
Had the man kept his penis in its compartment, sweetiekins, you could have spent this valuable time shopping or eating or making love or knitting a sweater or doing a floor puzzle or any other doggone thing you wanted to do aside from having your heart crushed and feeling the need to beat another woman to a pulp in order to defend your honor. There were two people in the relationship: you plus him. So while it may seem like a natural reaction to attack the intruder, the real individual to address would be your now former boo.
As far as I’m concerned, confronting the side chick is one big, long, sometimes bloody and bail-money-needing event. It’s a temporary distraction from acknowledging the pain of being played by someone you love — or at least kind of care about — and an opportunity to take it out on the jerk that infiltrated your life while your guard was down. But I think there’s more regret than affirmation when it comes to rolling up on the other woman. Text her if you must. Call her, stop by her job, mail her a letter, and keep setting off the motion detector in front of her house if it makes you feel better. But don’t forget to put the man who was the reason y’all met in the first place on the same kind of aggravation installment plan. In fact, make his a double.
Oh, and incidentally — seriously? A website that helps the cheating process along? This right here is exactly why pulling random checks of the family Mac or PC is never such a bad idea.
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