I ran into this bit of glurge recently. As is typical of glurge, it’s widely circulated, and lacks a title or author. I’ll dub it “Why Women Cry.” “Why Women Cry” is the most offensive piece of glurge I’ve seen in a long time. On the surface it’s a story about treasuring and valuing one’s wife and one’s mother, but simply paying attention to what is being said reveals its sexist underpinnings. For the amusement of people who do pay attention, and the edification of those who don’t, my reading of “Why Women Cry” follows.
I’ve cleaned up the formatting in the original; at some point it was mangled by someone who thought it was junior high free verse poetry. I have not otherwise changed it.
A little boy asked his mother, “Why are you crying?”
“Because I'm a woman,” she told him.
“I don't understand,” he said.
His Mom just hugged him and said, “And you never will.”
Later the little boy asked his father, “Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?”
“All women cry for no reason,” was all his dad could say.
I’m not a rocket scientist, nor a woman, but let me see if I can crack the mystery of why women cry. Women cry because of sadness, stress, anger, frustration, happiness, allergies, or something in their eye. Pretty sure that covers the overwhelming majority of reasons. Where’s my Nobel Peace Prize?
As it happens, that’s why men cry, too. This brings us to the first problem: the implication that women are some sort of strange creatures from another dimension that cannot be understood by men; man can only accept their strange alien ways.
The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry. Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone, he asked, “God, why do women cry so easily?”
Ha! Take that, Mom! You said I’d never understand, but all I had to do was call God!
Come to think of, while he was running up that expensive international call to God, did it not occur to him to ask about the whole theodicy thing?
God said, “When I made the woman she had to be special.
“Unlike you, you boring meat sack. I just really wasn’t into it when I made you.”
“I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort.
As a man, you’re excused from carrying the weight of the world or giving comfort. After all, God didn’t bother giving you the tools to cope with either. Feel free to just be a jackass.
Oh, and if you know some women who have been crushed by the weight of the world, or fails to give comfort, well, she’s a pretty crappy woman. Tell her God said so!
“I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.
Fun fact: men are never rejected by their children. It’s all sunshine and roses for the penis-havers. In the unlikely event a man is rejected by his child, there is no reason he shouldn’t abandon his family, after all, he lacks the inner strength to endure that.
“I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.
It’s because women have a divinely-granted hardness and persistence that women dominate law enforcement and the military. And remember, ladies, if you complain, it’s because you’re a bad woman.
“I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.
Has your adult child rejected you and everything you hold dear, hurt you so badly that you don’t think you can love them? If you’re male: no worries. If you’re female: something is wrong with you; why isn’t the divine sensitivity working? You might need some sort of treatment. I guess see a priest or something?
“I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.
Men: deeply flawed and surprisingly soft-hearted. Thank God that he gave us women without those flaws to protect us!
“I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.
Just because a husband is emotionally unavailable, lies to his wife, or cheats on her, it doesn’t mean he’s necessarily a bad husband! He’s just “testing her strengths,” and it’s her duty to stand beside him unfalteringly! Oh, and if a woman stays with an actively abusive husband, her divine-wisdom is probably malfunctioning and you should probably take her in for servicing.
“And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed.”
The omnibenevolence of God! One one hand women are expected to have the patience of a saint, the endurance of a superhero, serve like a robot, and stand with their children and husband no matter how terrible they are. But on the other hand, they get to cry, so it all evens out.
Oh, and men: no crying. It’s exclusively for women, God says so! Suck it up and bury your emotions like you’ve been told.
“You see my son,” said God, “the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides.”
So earlier I cracked the mystery of why women cry. For an encore, I’ll explain why this particular woman was crying. She and her entire family are being held to unrealistic and cruel ideals inflicted by their society. She is alienated from her own husband and son, pressured to not complain or even explain why she is crying, and pressured to hide the real woman that she is. She cries because she is incredibly sad and stressed. At this point she’s down to either crying or becoming the next mass shooter.
You now have two choices. Like this photo and move on with your life
Share this photo on your wall as a tribute to all the women in your life.
I’ll pick the choice C. As a tribute to all the women, I’ll treat them as fellow human beings, human beings with varying strengths and weaknesses, human beings who sometimes can’t cope with the stress placed on them, human beings who sometimes just need to cry.
(Much of this was inspired by my wife’s response to the story, “I cry because I'm sad or stressed. It's not rocket science, you douchebag.”)
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