My conviction that my wife is faithful only stems from my trust that she is. Also, Jiji Ndogo is slim pickings for a woman of her taste. Trust me, I often wonder how come she settled on me. Yeah, I know I’m airing my insecurities, but when you are a definite 5 married to a 13 on a scale of 1 to 10, you have cause for worry.
I’m no authority when it comes to knowledge of the opposite sex. In my almost 30 years on this blue space dot (Ahem, I just learned that from a space documentary), I have properly dated a total of three women. That is, if you don’t count all the times I’ve either been ghosted or given wrong phone numbers.
That said, I think women make it quite hard to keep good times flowing. Do you know how much men keep to themselves for the sake of peace in a relationship? Things that go unsaid just so the missiles stay in their bunkers? Men intentionally lose or back down to women to make them happy. Someone once wrote on social media, “If a woman admits she’s in the wrong, that’s a sign for you to find somewhere else to spend the night coz it’s about to go down.”
Things have only gotten worse in this “modern” age. Now we’re constantly accused of “mansplaining”. It used to mean a man explaining an issue to a woman in a patronising way. Nowadays, it’s just about anything, no matter the tone or attitude.
I get it. It’s wrong to claim that the pain of getting hit in the balls is worse than childbirth, but shouldn’t we just agree to disagree? Afterall, either of us would have to experience both to pass fair judgment.
My wife also never
seems to understand that I, too, can be moody. I might not sulk or throw tantrums
at the slightest confrontation, but I’m not a sex machine ready to jump into
action at the press of a button. She takes it as a personal affront if I’m not
in the mood to perform.
“What’s going on?” she asks. “Is it me? You aren’t attracted to me anymore, are you? Is it… Oh my God! I’ve gotten fat. Is that it? I’m now an ugly blob you can’t imagine making love to.”
“Honey, remember we confronted armed thugs at Mla Chake shop?” I say. “I just got shot at!”
“Yeah? Shouldn’t that make you feel even more alive?”
No, dear. It made my life flash before my eyes. I saw the gates of heaven open to admit me. That’s what I think but don’t say.
But it doesn’t stop her from jumping into a long spell of venting. Which is the other thing I never know how to handle. Women vent about anything and everything. It may be in their nature, but no one thought to provide us a menu to navigate that landmine. I’ve learned to be a better listener but like everything else, it gets harder with time.
It is, therefore, both surprising and worrying that Sophia has suggested that we go on holiday to work on our relationship. I wonder what awaits us in Mombasa.
