The "Other Woman"

We’ve all resented her at some point. For Jackie O, it was Marilyn Monroe. Faith Evans had Lil’ Kim. And for the women on Maury and Jerry Springer it always seems to be a cousin or not so distant relative. Regardless, the “other woman” tends to trigger the same responses in every woman she affects, the release of a surging can of whoop ass, and/or, crying, a whole lot of crying.

What of this “other woman”? This woman could be your hair stylist, a fellow church member, your favorite shopping partner, but you find out she’s banging your man and all of a sudden she sprouts red horns. Is she more than just the chick we love to hate and the heifer we blame for our failed relationships? Let’s examine it.

There are two kinds of mistresses, the ones who know their status and the ones who are fooled into believing they are his one and only. There are women like home girl from Diary of a Mad Black Woman who are way out of order. Then there are ladies who are not aware that they are the “other women” at all, like one of my personal favorites, Meredith Grey (Grey’s Anatomy). For all they knew, they were in perfectly monogamous relationships. In that case, who’s to say who actually has dibs on the dog? Is it the girl who’s been being played longer? Is it the woman he spends more money on, or, the one he spends more time with?

I am not making excuses for anyone. Cheating is never okay. I am saying that the “other woman”, is, well…a woman. She’s one of God’s children. She’s equally as human as you are. She needs love just like you do. Maybe in a moment of weakness she let the man sweet talk her into doing something she knew was wrong, and that moment, turned into an affair. Maybe she’s just trying to support her purse addiction and figures, what his girl doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Maybe she’s hated you since the third grade and just can’t stand the thought of you being happy. Maybe she’s at such a low point that she believes she is not worthy of a man of her own. In any case, she is still a woman.

The fact of the matter is, cheating is irrational. It makes no sense. So I am done trying to rationalize it. With my last boyfriend, when I was far too young to know any better, I did not know if I was the home wrecker, or, if it was his baby mama. What I know for sure, is that there will always be men who cheat. So the “other woman” will always exist. In the mean time I’ll try to live up to my Christian goal and love all of God’s children unconditionally. I don’t need anymore reasons to hate my sister.

The Best Thing

The best thing since sliced bread. Like any other American, I’ve heard that phrase my entire life, but never took the time to think about what it really means, until recently. What could possibly be so good about sliced bread, that the very concept of it claims its own national idiom? Would it kill us to actually have to use that marvelous tool, called a knife, and cut our bread into slices ourselves. I know that recently we have crossed over into an all new level of laziness in this country, to the point where we even want our cars to drive themselves. But even the self-parking Lexus has its clear advantages. For one thing, most people, me included, can barely parallel park. But anyone can slice bread. So where’s the advantage there?

The fact is, the hoopla isn’t about the bread; it’s about everything else. We like the fact that someone has taken the time to do something so menial for us. It makes us feel important, special. Not to mention, it makes life easier. Could you imagine how much longer it would take for us to get out the door in the morning if we had to slice our bread, toast it, and butter it? A quick P&J sandwich would no longer be quick. Of course we’re fully capable of slicing our bread but isn’t it great that we don’t have to risk cutting ourselves or making an imperfect slice because it’s already done for us?

It’s no wonder they say good men are the best thing since sliced bread. They bring something to the table that cannot be replaced. It’s not so much what they do, as it is the fact that they do it, and do it cheerfully. When my dad pays my tuition and my car note, when my little brother pumps my gas, when my date opens the door for me and carries my shopping bags and picks up the tab at the end of the day, that’s the best. It makes me feel treasured, protected; and it makes life so much easier.

Don’t think for a minute that I’m undermining the power of a sister. Sure we can pay our own bills, kill the spiders under our beds, feed our own purse and shoe addictions, change our own flat tires, sport our own bling, pump our own gas, open up our own doors, even satisfy our own healthy sensual appetites (as quiet as it’s kept). But it’s just so much better when God sends us someone who wants to do all of those things for us, and enjoys every minute of it. It’s the greatest. It’s…the best thing since sliced bread.

Here’s to all the men taking care of home. Any man who knows how to treat the women in his life like queens, is definitely a king. You are loved and greatly appreciated.