Wonder-Woman vs. Cinderella

We're modern women you and I.

We have careers to manage, or jobs to turn into careers. We love to surpass ourselves, act like wonder-woman and have everything under control. We are independent you see, a trait we learnt to develop and appreciate after all the hard work our grandmothers and great-grandmothers put in to get us that level of freedom. We want a man in our life but we don't need him.  I know how to work out the cables behind the TV and I know how to call a mechanic when my car's battery decide to suddenly die at the worst possible moment and I also know how to manage my paycheck at the end of the month and contrary to what men believe, not spend it all on shopping. We like to be sexy as opposed to sweet, powerful as opposed needy.

We know how to do it all -but we don't really want to. Because deep down, inside each one of us is a little girl that watched Disney movies growing up and dreamt of being Cinderella, the Little Mermaid, or Snow White. Princesses in a fairytale, with a charming prince by their side. Because even if you do know how to work out the cables behind the TV, it's so nice to pretend that you don't and let your man deal with it while you're cozy underneath your covers. We like that we're able to pay for our own meals and buy our own jewlery and spoil ourselves, but we also enjoy it when men spoil us.

We try to live in this modern world that expects of us to be self sufficient but we also have this innate desire to be taken care of.

And it translates into the type of men we're attracted to. I think it's all Disney's fault. That's who I'm blaming it on anyway. Girls have high expectations because we grew up watching Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty and Snow White. They make it seem like princes are running around every corner. Take the Little Mermaid, who gets out of the water once, just once: the first guy she meets on dry land is a prince. Even in Beauty and The Beast, the freakin beast is a prince. And the girls who grew up on those Disneys end up looking for their own version of Prince Charming. The guy who is from a good family, who has enough money to ensure we can live comfortably but also take those five trips a year and go shopping every Saturday. A guy who is attentive but not clingy, tender but courageous, romantic but not cheesy.

And then there are the girls who are even more screwed up. The ones whose favorites cartoons were Robin Hood, Aladdin and Lady and the Tramp. Those who want the prince to come in the form of a street stud. Now the guy we dream about is not really from a good family, but he has made it despite everything and he did it all by himself. He doesn't have any money but when you're with him he makes you feel like you don't ever need anything  --and he would move heaven and earth to get you whatever you want.

Some girls want to be escorted in Limousines, dine in the best restaurants, vacation in Cannes and have their own Yacht. And some girls want to get lost backpacking through Europe, end up on an island living in tents for a month, having him catch a fish to fry for dinner. 

Other girls (God help us) --well, we want both.

growin' up

My brother is 18 years old today and this is for him.

When he was born, I was 8 and we had just moved back from Paris to Beirut. It was 1993, still a city covered in the rust of war. We lived at my grandmother's, my little sister and me, and my mom couldn't leave the house because she was nine months pregnant and if the electricity cut off she'd have to walk up three floors.We'd pick up the phone and we'd have to wait patiently for the line to come; the only milk available was powdered Nido and I couldn't even stand the smell of it; and the only thing on TV were the local channels and "Mini Studio" was the only watchable show.

I remember when my mom taught me how to change his diapers and how he peed on her while we were changing him. I remember when she let a flock of his hair grow long at the back of his head. I remember when he was four years old and we teased him on how he had a big penis and he ran all over the house screaming and crying that no, no, he didn't have a big penis. I remember him in his superman costume that he'd wear as pajamas. It was a time when we had a full house, and we'd wake up Sunday morning, my sister, my brother and me and prepare breakfast for our parents. There was still five of us back then, coffee for two, pancakes for all.

Everything is different now. It's like we're on another planet living in a different dimension. The world changed for this little boy when he was seven years old and he lost his mother, but watching him changes my perspective of the world everyday. When she was no longer around, I would put him to bed every night and tell him stories about her so that he would never forget. We'd talk about all sorts of things before he'd go to sleep and once he told me "sometimes my penis wakes up before me" --and I thought it was the cutest and funniest way anyone has ever put it. It was at that time that we came up with Papadopoulos together, an inside joke that only a few will get. When I left for New York, he was still a little boy. Over the phone I would hear his voice change and barely recognized him when he picked up, and every time I would visit, I'd find him taller, with little hair starting to grow on his face. By the time I came back he was a fully grown teenager. He'd receive dozens of texts a day from a dozen different girls, all crazy in love with him. He is that guy, you see, the ones all the girls are in love with.

And today he's almost a man. The world he was born into --it doesn't exist anymore. What we've learnt along the way is that nothing is predictable and anything can happen. But what always remains, throughout, is the love that you can only share with your siblings. And when your brother tells you you're "the woman of my life," you know you've done something right.

Rhapsodian guest blogger: Out of the Rathole

 For the first time on Beirut Rhapsodies, my guest blogger is a fellow Rhapsodian. Now let me put her in context for you: she's my one friend of whom I can truly say, without hesitating, is super happy in love right now. Which is why I think her advice is worthwhile. I mean, she's had her share of tears: she has cried more than anyone else I know over guys so she didn't always have it right... but she's on the other side of spectrum right now, and I thought it would be good for us to get a different perspective. 

The last couple of blogs have made me realize that my favorite Rhapsodian needs a helping hand…She has given up on love and I cannot bear seeing  this happening! So I’ve decided to share my 2-cents with her, and with all the girls out there who mumble, not too loud (so that it doesn’t come true!), but once too often, those absolutely atrocious and silly words: “’I’m gonna die alone”.

By no means am I claiming to be wise enough to become a love doctor, nor am I a Vietnam veteran to claim years of experience, but I did have enough bad experiences with a wide spectrum of rats to be able to tell from a distance if one is a plague- carrier or a pure-breed worth taming. Here is a sample of bad experiences that I’m sure are as cliché as it gets but enriching nonetheless:

So there was the first love, that endless relationship I wonder how it ever lasted so long. He was my college sweetheart. He was anything you would want in a guy when you’re 17…but after 5 years, all I wanted was freedom.  The stars must have misunderstood what I meant by freedom, because what I cashed-in instead was an egocentric brat who occasionally cheated and frequently lied and who owned the only phone ever created (I guess it was a prototype) that vanishes  and reappears at the owner’s convenience, meaning he could not always answer my texts and could never call me back.  The phone was designed in such a way that one could only text back should one need a booty call. Of course I was crazy about him because when he wasn’t busy touching his Blackberry or other girls, he would tell me the most wonderful words  that I would foolishly believe. One day he told me it was over by using the infamous “it’s not you it’s me” line, and he hurt me so much that my tears could have filled the Atlantic, back and forth 8 times… Then there was the guy whom I was never good enough for, and who destroyed what was left of my ego: “you’ve put on 300g, I’ve noticed them around your elbow”. Then came the possessive-obsessive-paranoid guy who was jealous of his own shadow…and a few other mice here and there (yes, not even qualified to be called rats) but I won’t dwell more on them…

And then the revelation. The decision. Yes this wonderful resolution we all take after a nauseous succession of plague-carrying rats: NO MORE BOYS I AM GOING TO FOCUS ON ME.

And so I did. Of course I cried sometimes, I missed the attention and the drama that came along with the boyfriends. But I used that time to finally get to know myself. I read more, I spent more time with the girls, reconnected with old friends, did Yoga, ran a marathon, worked harder, bought cooking books, started loving those extra 300g around my elbow, and slowly but surely regained my self confidence. I was finally happy.

 And one day, when I expected it the least, the most amazing charming loving kind funny cultured gentle, did I mention amazing… man came out from a hidden rathole and straight into my heart, and I hope to stay forever.  Today, when I ask myself what good wind brought him my way, I realize there were just a few things that I unconsciously had changed in my behavior that made me more attractive to that better breed of rats. So here are my 2-cents, or 8:

1)     Stop looking: a girl who is constantly hunting is a turn-off. Genuinely enjoy your single self, and one day, when you’re in your sweat pants with the almighty pimple on your left cheek,  thinking you’re looking your worst but actually looking your absolute best natural self,   he will find you.

2)    Know yourself: know what makes you happy and what you will never compromise on, and let no one stop you from getting it: If you need your yoga or your cooking or your time with the girls, make sure you get it.

3)    Know your flaws and make him love you for them: If you are the type that has 5-minute- a-month PMS bitchiness (give or take a few minutes) he should be manly enough to accept it and to love you for it. You’re never going to change, so find a man mature enough to love you “for better or for worse”.

4)    If they want, they can: so if they don’t…they don’t want. Simple equation. Read it 5 times and make it your new 1+1=2. If he wants to be with you, the things he would be willing to do for you would surprise you. So unless you see that type of behavior, don’t waste your time…

5)    Do no settle for less: and that means settle only for MORE. More attention, more care more respect. You were dad’s little princess remember? Now you have to be Rat’s little princess. Let him treat you the way you would treat him, and better, or nothing.

6)    Don’t be a nag: the weeping willow only goes one way: down. When you think nothing could go worse in your life, just switch on the news and put things in perspective. Be grateful for what you have, and someone will be grateful to have you.

7)    Forget the games: when the right guy comes along, you won’t need those “don’t text him back before 109 minutes” rules. If he wants to play, give him an X-box and bid him farewell and tell your little brother you have a pal to spare.

8)    Last but not least: Believe in yourself. You will NOT die alone. Keep this in mind: if Sarah Palin found someone to marry her once, so will you…

the goal is to bring him home tonight

This is about the other girl. Not the one that I always rat about, who gets tugged around and played with and endures the calamities that come with dating men. This is about the girl that sees a guy from across the room, and with one look she already knows that he's going to be hers. Because the truth is, when a woman confidently sets her mind to something nothing can stop her.

Now don't get me wrong: this can be the same girl. I've seen it. I've been it. You can be the victim at one time and you can hold the reigns at another --it all depends on the situation and the guy and the timing. A couple of nights ago I was having a drink with a friend and she says to me "the goal is to bring him home tonight." I smiled. There I was having a girlie drink with one of my girlfriends and in stead of analyzing what this new crush of hers said or did, she just wanted to go through the motions and establish a plan that would get him into her bed. I loved it.

My other friend (whose nickname sets off alarms so I'm keeping it anonymous) usually meets a guy and plans the wedding ceremony within the same hour. But lately the balance seems to have tipped her way. He's the one talking about "us" for the next three years while she is still trying to remember his last name. She finds herself on a guy's bed and he's the one who doesn't want to go any further... yet.

Or this other girl who met this guy who is really insisting on trying out a long distance relationship.  Or my friend who is having trouble in her relationship because he thinks she is not making enough effort. Or my other friend who is feeling bad because she is using a guy for sex and moral support even though she knows he is in love with her and she doesn't see it going it anywhere. Sounds like I'm confusing my pronouns.

And then there's me. I'm an open book, literarily, just read the blog and you'll know what I'm thinking, what I've been through, when I'm depressed and when I'm happy. But even I can have the bring-him-home-tonight attitude sometimes. Think some guy can make me feel like shit for no reason and then come back and pretend like nothing happened? Not this time. If there's anything I learnt this year, it's to put myself first. Wise-rat told me: "You need to find a guy who will treat you like a princess." And there will be no settling for less.

when the good stuff comes out

I know I spend a lot of time nit-picking on relationship imbalances, blaming guys for all sorts of devilish attitudes and sometimes it seems like I'm portraying women as victims. The truth is I only talk about themes that appear in my life or in my friends' lives, and it so happens that these are the stories I get. But this week I got a lot of time to look at everything from a different perspective, and I saw something in men that I hadn't seen in a long time.

I was at a wedding in Larnaca on Saturday, the only one I've been to this summer, and it was the sort of wedding where everything was about their love and nothing else. It was so simple --no fluff, no fuss, no one cared about the flower center piece or a big light show or fireworks or whatever it is they do at weddings. Yet there was nothing simple about the way these two felt about each other, how happy they were, and how happy we were to be really sharing this moment. There were 100 guests, so it was intimate, you see. When we danced, the entire party was on the dance floor. The bride was beautiful because of the sheer glow in her eyes and the groom looked at her adoringly and it made us all believe in love. Not one person was sitting there criticizing the dress or the decoration or the choice of entertainment. No one cared and everyone had a wonderful time. A genuine moment, if you know what I mean.

Now in the same week, two of my girls met guys that for once had a very genuine, very healthy approach to flirting. And their first reactions, both of them, was surprise. A guy who actually calls when he says he will, really? A guy who actually stays when you refuse to "go back to his place"? A guy who compliments you for being interesting and fun and "amazing" and is actually listening to the things you say? We kind of forgot they existed. And at first, it's almost boring --because we're not used to liking a guy that doesn't shift our emotions seventy times per minute. But then we realize what it is: the no fluff, no fuss, simple "getting to know each other," when the goal is not to have sex tonight. It still happens, we just forgot.

Even the Rats... they haven't been quoted much lately because, guess what: almost every one of them is in a relationship, and to be honest, they are all amazingly good boyfriends --as far as I can tell. Even though they can be the biggest Rats when they are single, they all have a loverboy side to them and they enjoy it. And it's all wonderful, but it doesn't make for great blog material because who wants to hear about perfect happiness in Lalaland?

So I had a good week, so full of love that I decided I couldn't be cynical and I was just going to mention the good stuff. Maybe it's not the stuff that make a good blog, but it's the stuff that make the good life.