Waiting(not) for Rejection: why men stay?

Following my previous blog post, “Waiting for Rejection,” some readers contested the opinion that remaining in loveless relationships is solely a female phenomenon. They pointed out that even men endure loveless unions long after love has left (cue Tuku’s song “Handiende“). Despite encountering what some may label as ‘Harare men,’ I struggle to accept this perspective wholeheartedly. Nevertheless, acknowledging that every situation has multiple angles, it’s only fair to explore why men choose to stay when love has departed long ago.

How often have we heard married men lament (verb: express regret or disappointment about something) about their marital dissatisfaction, only to see them celebrating the arrival of a newborn a few months later? “Of course I’m a Harare man, I will tell you that my wife and I don’t share the same bed but we will welcome a baby a few months later.” (laughs).

Through conversations, observations, and articles, here are some reasons men cite for staying:

Fear and the shame of being labeled a failure: Men often struggle with fear and the stigma of being deemed failures. They often believe they must fulfill provider and protector roles, viewing leaving a relationship as a shortfall in these duties. Nobody enters a relationship aiming for its demise, be it marriage or dating, especially as many my age date to marry. Many endure relationships longer than necessary due to reluctance to introduce someone new, driven by shame and societal pressures. It seems society isn’t only hard on women, but on men too.

Fear of the unknown: relationship experts suggest that the fear of the unknown strongly influences human behavior, including in relationships. Men may remain in unhappy relationships if they believe it’s their only option. If a man doubts his ability to find another woman, he may endure a painful and unhappy relationship due to loneliness and desperation. Sometimes, for men, familiarity with the current situation seems preferable to the uncertainties of change.

Divorce is expensive: from married individuals, I’ve often heard this concern echoed, especially among men. They fear that their partner might take what she hasn’t earned. (I’ve questioned what that implies, as if raising children and maintaining the household isn’t significant work, but that’s another topic). Research indicates that individuals with more assets and money to lose in a divorce are inclined to remain married, irrespective of their reported marital satisfaction.

We do it for the children: we hear this mostly from women, but apparently men too do the same. Dr. Lindsay Weisner explains that children of divorced parents may face increased risks like anxiety, depression, substance abuse, and academic challenges. It’s understandable how someone might choose to remain in an unhappy marriage rather than expose their child to vulnerability. However, research hasn’t definitively determined if it’s having two married parents or two actively involved adults that benefits a child’s mental and physical well-being.

Now, speaking as someone who’s not a relationship guru, has never been married, and definitely hasn’t walked in a man’s shoes in a past life, I’ve got this nagging question: why don’t unhappy men leave? I guess the difference here is women ideally wait for rejection, but men? I mean, men value their happiness, and selfishly so (I’m generalizing here). The reason he hasn’t left is because he doesn’t want to. No it isn’t the kids. He doesn’t want to leave. A man who is unhappy would leave making sure his kids have the support of both parents. Anything else? Just sounds like an excuse to me! What do you think?

Waiting for Rejection

Why We May Hold On When Love Fades

Scrolling through social media and radio waves lately, I’ve been struck by a chorus of voices from women trapped in loveless relationships. They see the red flags waving, feel the disconnect in their own bones, yet they wait – for the final word, the official break-up, the push that sets them free.

I confess, this resonates with me. I, too, clung to a relationship beyond its expiry date, a prisoner of unspoken goodbyes. It’s tempting to write it off as a collective case of amnesia, where the signs become mere circus acts instead of urgent sirens. But it’s deeper, more nuanced than that.

Perhaps it’s the cultural echo of the “damsel in distress,” waiting for Prince Charming to break the spell. We learn, often subtly, that initiating action, especially in love, is a misstep. We toss hints like breadcrumbs instead of boldly claiming our desires. This unspoken rule has led many women to sit and wait for the decision to be made on their behalf – usually by patriarchy. If the man doesn’t take the first step to tell you to leave, then maybe hopefully waiting for your brothers/father to come and “rescue” you.

But it’s not just societal scripts. Sometimes, fear paints the exit door with invisible chains. Fear of judgment, of loneliness, of losing the familiar, even the fear of hurting the other person (a burden we often shoulder disproportionately). We cling to the wreckage, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, things will miraculously right themselves.

Then there’s love, that elusive, potent force. Letting go of someone you once loved, even if the love has morphed into resentment or apathy, is excruciating. We hold onto memories, promises, and the flicker of hope that rekindling the flame is possible.

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Each woman’s story is a tapestry woven with unique threads of cultural expectations, personal anxieties, and the complex tapestry of love and loss. But by starting this conversation, by sharing our vulnerabilities and exploring the tangled knot of reasons why we stay, we begin to unravel the silence and empower ourselves to claim the narratives of our own hearts.

This is just an invitation to delve deeper into this multifaceted issue. Let’s share our experiences. I only have questions, no answers!

Don’t Close the Door Behind you!!

Don’t close the door behind you!! A loud scream I let out as my daughter leaves the room. We’ve become used to shouting in this house. We shout because that’s what makes someone else hear us, right? My husband always speaks in a loud voice. It doesn’t matter who is at home with us. He doesn’t care if the neighbors can hear us. He just shouts.

He shouts about everything, big or small alike. Go open the gate! I told you I don’t like my eggs scrambled! You are nothing without me, that’s how I know you will not leave me! I’m the head of this house! Where is my white golf shirt! I told you to be ready by midday! You are useless! Go and make me a cup of tea! Carry the passports, we’re going on holiday!

He doesn’t like closed doors. He wants every door open within the house because he wants to hear any conversations or activities taking place. He wants to know we are not talking about him. He wants to be sure we are not plotting an Arab spring. He needs to know why we are laughing because every laugh is assumed to be about him. The reality though is we never laugh anyways, we no longer find anything funny.

I also hate closed doors. For reasons not the same as his. Closed doors remind me of the days I spend locked up by him as punishment. Closed doors remind me of the times he shuts the door to beat the living life out of me. Closed doors remind me of having to hide the kids in the pantry because their father has knives out ready to kill me. Closed doors make me think I have nowhere to go, yet I know that one day I shall walk free. Don’t close the door behind me!

You’d think it gets better…

You’d think it gets better,

The older I get and the more mature I become,

When I’m years out of college and a few years into the work life,

The more the family grows and each one becomes their own person,

The more I travel and the more independent I become.

You’d think it gets better,

That I’d stop missing him more,

I’d start thinking about him less,

This life thing could just go on like he never existed,

Or never wish he did.

But the reality is, it doesn’t get better…

You just get used to it!

I can’t help but think what it would be like if you were still around…

Would you still treat me like the favourite that I was?

Would you always be smiling as you did?

Would your voice still sound the same?

Would your embrace still feel so warm and tight?

Would your care still extend to not only those close to you?

Would you be happy, would you be proud?

You’d think it gets better, 16years later 💔

When Men Cheat…

Homewrecker! What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear that word? It’s most likely that it describes a woman for most people. Why is it that when men cheat we find it easier to blame the “other” woman? Men have it easy right? He is married, goes out and approaches another woman, breaks his vows and everything else, but at the end of it all, no blame is on him. My country people will say “ndizvo zvinoita varume” (that’s how men behave). It’s also way easier to hate another woman than to hate the person you sleep next to right?

“Putting the blame on him makes you address uncomfortable questions, like ‘what if our marriage is a sham?’ ‘Maybe he’s not who I think he is?’ ‘Am I going to be alone the rest of my life?’” And, most of the time, if we’re lashing out at her, it’s because we plan to stay but need a place to put our anger, says psychologist Brandy Engler, Ph.D., author of The Men On My Couch. (And we know yelling at him will only jeopardize the relationship more.)

The worst part is knowing that men have mastered this about women. They know that even if he is caught red handed, his wife is likely to attack the other woman than him.

On the other hand, there is so much shame put on women when men cheat. Why is it women are made to feel like they are to blame for being cheated on? Women are made to feel as if it is their fault when relationships fail. In general, it seems that women are labeled as responsible for the quality of a relationship because they are seen as the upholders of them. Men’s cheating is covered up in society and families, (hanzi usafukura hapwa, ndiwe unonyara).

All this sounds so familiar as victim blaming is prevalent in many areas and cases. One is sexually assaulted and they are blamed because of what they were wearing, where the were, or how they played a role in luring the abuser. One is physically abused by their partner and they are blamed and asked what they did to make their partner angry. One is raped by their husband and they are blamed for denying him his conjugal rights in the first place. Victim blaming is an insidious form of abuse in and of itself.

 Here are some common statements that indicate that others are blaming you for the abuse and betrayal, according to Betrayal Trauma Recovery.

1. “How have you contributed to your husbands infidelity?”
2. “If you make yourself more available, he wouldn’t need to act out.”
3. “If you take care of yourself a little more, he would be more interested.”
4. “You need to be a safe person so he won’t lie to you.”
5. “You should just forgive him and move on.”
6. “How can you ever stay with him after this?”

It’s safe to say that when a man cheats, he does so on his own accord. His wife or girlfriend doesn’t ask or force him to stray, but when he does, the woman is usually looked at as the guilty party. People want to know what she did to make him cheat, instead of figuring out what changed in him to make him want to stray. And although this is far from fair, or the truth, it happens. Often, women are blamed for the choices that men make when they break the contract of fidelity in marriage. The blame usually centers around such reasons as the following: the women were not interested in providing enough sex for the man, the women were never interested in pursuing the man, the woman had become sexually boring, the woman had let herself go physically, the woman had lost interest in the husband in general, or that the woman had become hyper-focused upon children or other interests. In other words, women are accused of not having enough sex, not giving their partners enough attention, or spending too much time taking care of their children when their partner cheats.

Healthway

It’s not Fondling or Groping – it’s Sexual Assault

I must have been 15years old, the day I forgot to wear my bra to school. I wasn’t young enough to need a reminder to wear my underwear, but I was old enough to totally forget it. It was during winter, so I was lucky enough to be able to wear my jersey all day. The only problem came when I had to attend basket ball practice without a bra – my small boobs saved the day and the shame.

I was 16 years old when I forgot to wear any roll-on to school. Again I wasn’t young enough to need a reminder to wear deodorant, but again, I was old enough to totally forget it. Again it was in the winter, so I was lucky enough to not be sweating all day. The problem came when I had to attend basket ball practice after a full day without roll on – at least my armpits were shaven and changing room talks allowed me to ask for some anti perspirant to save the shame.

I was 17 years old when I suffered my first heartbreak, my high school love. As you might have it, he decided to break up with me by showing up at a school function with someone else. Again it was in the winter, so I was lucky enough to be able to hide my tears behind a scarf. The problem came when I sat a few seats behind him and his new girlfriend through out the movie premier and watched as he did everything with her that he used to do with me – at least I had good friends that didn’t make fun of the situation and helped me through it.

I was 14 years old when I was touched inappropriately by a guy that I had just met that night. It was at a school function and he was a visiting student from another school. We were introduced by a friend and we seemed to get along. Later that night as we were sitting and talking he started running his hands up my skirt, then the other hand down my blouse. There were so many other people around us, but I didn’t even have the voice to scream. I never reported him either, I mean who would have believed me right. In that little skirt, I was asking for it right?

I am now way out of my teenage years and know even better that I should have not been ashamed of not having worn a bra that day. I am much older and I am glad I used my voice to ask my team mate for that deodorant. I’m not 14 any more and wish every girl and woman would know how to use their voice in uncomfortable and inappropriate situations…I know now that I should have reported that guy – someone would have listened and believed me. It’s not being touched inappropriately or fondling or groping – it’s sexual assault

Using euphemistic language downplays the severity of an offence and enforces a dangerous message: it isn’t a big deal, and victims won’t be taken seriously

Did you know?

Sometimes, the reason behind a reluctance to use accurate language is more compassionate than malicious – an attempt to avoid the reality of what happens to girls and women on a regular basis. It is easier to rely on euphemistic language, such as “groping” or “fondling”, than to talk about sexual assault. But that doesn’t help, because we inadvertently end up downgrading the severity of the offence, which, in turn, helps normalise it. It’s a trivialisation that leads to a culture where victims are doubted and/or blamed. Was it really sexual assault, or just a quick caress? Are you honestly going to make a fuss about a pat on the bottom?

It is a message so entrenched in society that the vast majority of women and girls are completely unaware that being touched on the breasts, grabbed between the legs or squeezed on the bottom, among other common experiences, could constitute sexual assault. Many girls come to see this behaviour as normal – expected even – and simply the price you pay for being a woman. This means not only that victims are much less likely to report what has happened (or feel able to complain in a workplace, nightclub or school setting), but also that perpetrators are unaware of the severity of committing such offences. – The Guardian

Criminalisation of (self) Pleasure

Sex toys are over-regulated legally and under-regulated for safety. Bans on “obscene devices” are a violation of the right to private sexual conduct. They enforce the stigma against sex, which in turn leads to nonchalant regulation of devices intended for internal use. – Kierstyn Smith

Incase you didn’t know, in Zimbabwe, Section 47(1)b of the Customs and Excise Act “prohibits the importation of any goods which are indecent, obscene, or objectionable or any goods which might tend to deprave the morals of the inhabitants, or any class of the inhabitants of Zimbabwe,” . This is the same clause that was used recently against a woman in Harare who was selling sex toys and the female lecturer in Gwanda who had imported sex toys for her personal use.

So what’s the big deal about sex toys? I mean that’s my question too. Harmless devices used by millions of women (and men too) around the world in the privacy of their homes – why are they banned and remain illegal in some parts of the world? Just by looking at the above clause, there is no way that the use of sex toys infringes on public morality, or any way it will influence someone to act immorally in the public domain.

What adults do in the privacy of their bedrooms is their own business right? And because sex toys are not used in the public domain, how then would their private use have an effect on society? Shouldn’t we be more concerned about other moral issues affecting our Zimbabwean society? – the increase of rape of 8/9year olds, 9 year olds giving birth, rape of a 9 year old being called child marriage, fathers sodomising their sons, ritual killings- i mean, when we talk about a deprave of morals, let’s look at these many moral ills in our society that have left women and girls vulnerable and failing to ever feel safe in their own communities – these are the moral ills that must be addressed to protect our society and prevent moral decay.

On the other hand, it is essential to remember, sex toys are not just dildos. According to Dr Rosmond Adams, sex toys have medical benefits. For example, men who use them are less likely to be burdened with erectile dysfunction, difficulty orgasming and low sex drive. They are also more likely to be aware of their sexual health, making them more likely to notice any abnormalities and seek medical advice. Male products can help men overcome erectile dysfunction, following prostate surgery or treatment, diabetes, heart disease, spinal cord injury and neurological conditions, by promoting the blood flow into the erectile tissues and stimulating the nerves to help the man have an erection without them having to take Viagra.

Some women cannot orgasm through penetration alone, no matter how turned on they are. Stimulating the clitoris can be the key to satisfying climaxes and sex toys can make that easier. Vibrators can be really useful for vulval pain conditions, such as vulvodynia, where penetration can be tricky to achieve.

So just maybe, it is time to review the law and the ever-changing moral landscape. The question is “is the moral police ready for this conversation?” And on the other hand, will the patriarchy allow for a space where the rule of men in bringing the pleasure is null and void? This is Africa says “the sale of sex toys is illegal in many countries where they’re being sold, although some governments don’t even bother putting the trade on the books, seemingly relying on social shame – which is fading fast – as a means of regulation. Nonetheless, even where selling them remains illegal, sex toys still manage to creep across the border. Basically, what seems to be happening is that the governments are anti-sex toys, but the people aren’t. “

On a separate note: Before you pack your sex toys, here are places that they’re not allowed: Saudi Arabia, UAE, Thailand, Vietnam, Malaysia, India, Maldives, Alabama (USA).

Did you know? In some countries, you cannot carry your birth control either – but that’s a blog for another day 🤭

Much I Say About Nothing

I wore a pair of laddered stockings to work today. To be honest, this wasn’t the first time I’ve done this. As a matter of fact, I have one rule; if my stockings ladder as I am putting them on, I am not removing them, we’re going to have to wing it through the rest of the day as is! If it is for an informal activity that I am wearing the stocking for, I would most usually make more holes (deliberately) to make it look as if the style was intentional. Yes, I mean that, but the bottom line is once I have put them on, I am not taking them off. Before I would get people reminding me that my stockings were torn or laddered, but lately people just generally mind their business and let you be. A little too much at times though, you can literally walk around with your zip open and not have noticed it and no one would even attempt to tell you…because they’re minding their own business. I wish life was this simple when it came to freedom of dressing in my country, unfortunately not. But would you say things have changed though? Are some places more liberal than others? Or has it just remained the same?

I was listening to a certain program on radio the other day and a woman wrote in complaining about her husband’s very cold body temperature, I quote “murume wangu anotonhora muviri zvisingaite, ndoitawo sei kana kuti angaite sei kuti adziyewo?” (my husband has such a cold body temperature, what can I do to change this or what can he do). To my surprise, the presenter’s response was, and again I quote “wotomutambira, ndiye wawakapihwa naMwari” (accept him as he is, he is the man that God gave you). Incase you do not understand my shock, ask any Zimbabwean woman about ndwolani
(sp), rubbing Vaseline mixed with salt under your feet then wearing socks to bed; the milk, honey and cinnamon concoction, and sooooo many other natural remedies and herbs that women are experimenting with so that they can increase their body temperature in order to please men. If you haven’t tried it, you either know someone who has, or someone has told you about it, or you have most definitely read about it on one of the many social media pages and/or groups because – varume vanoda vakadzi vanodziya muviri or munhu wemukadzi haufanire kubva watonhora. We have been told it, and we believe it. But unfortunately, the same response doesn’t apply when the script is turned.

I have been seeing the trending statement in the streets this week “takachi master chi game ichi” and mostly comes as a caption on all the various audio recordings and voice messages doing the rounds from young men who have suffered at the hands of love and are literally in tears, mjolo the pandemic. I can’t help but wonder what these men shedding tears would have done to a woman for her to decide she wants out. You have possibly heard numerous times that when a woman decides she is done, she really is. Most women are said to call out when they’re really out and have no more hurt to give (you see what I censored there? my nieces read my blogs). So, have women really mastered this game, this love game? Is this a new phenomenon or it’s a folktale dating as far back as women buying houses nemari yemadhoiri that were being sold in our neighboring country? As far back as men having to sing out loud or whistle as they approached their homestead, so as to give the wife’s lover a signal to leave? As far back as many men taking care of children that were not their own, even if they knew it and wouldn’t rush to have it broadcast on the DNA show?

Much I say about nothing…

Generational Trauma, Inherited Fears and Experiences, Self Repression and Everything In-between

I actually don’t know where my phobia for snakes came from, considering that I had a pet water snake since I was 11 or 12, he must have died when I was 15. He was orange and brown stripped, and I would routinely remove him from the tank together with the fish every time we had to clean the tank. I removed him with my bare hands – just to highlight how much I actually didn’t mind handling snakes. Being black, African and Zimbabwean, I really wouldn’t tell many people that I had a pet snake lest we were labeled as a family (tonzi vanogara nenyoka mu tank). Okay, I digress! I am now terrified of snakes, I don’t like watching them on TV, seeing them in a magazine or bumping into them face to face. But as the universe has it, in most instances when we have seen a snake at home, I am the one that sees it first. At one point I met 2 that were chasing each other. Okay, now I am having heart palpitations from writing about them.

I only found out from a cooking group last year that you can have peanut butter cabbage (cabbage rine dovi). I asked my mother and she confirmed. But I also asked why we had never had it growing up, ever! Turns out peanut butter cabbage reminds my mother of a period of poverty that they went through in her childhood. She explains that they at some point would eat cabbage every other day, boiled, fried, with peanut butter, etc. So every time she thinks of cabbage, she thinks of poverty. I still have not tasted peanut butter cabbage, though I love pumpkin leaves in peanut butter and spinach in peanut butter as well. The peanut butter cabbage now also sounds like poverty, because of my mother’s story, or rather her experience.

Men that grew up witnessing their father’s abuse their mothers will either never abuse their own wife because of what they grew up seeing or they will be abusive because that is what they grew up seeing. Women that grew up in abusive households will sometimes never see what is wrong with an abusive husband because that is what they grew up seeing from their father or they will never tolerate an abusive husband because that is what they grew up seeing from their father. For some, they may never have witnessed the abuse first hand. Furthermore, children who grew up with alcoholic or drug abusing parents will either grow up to be alcoholics themselves or would never abuse drugs because that is what they grew up seeing and knowing. (I’m generalizing here)

I was recently thinking about generational trauma and a possibility of how it links to many of our experiences, and I found this read interesting;

“A newborn mouse pup, seemingly innocent to the workings of the world, may actually harbor generations’ worth of information passed down by its ancestors.
In the experiment, researchers taught male mice to fear the smell of cherry blossoms by associating the scent with mild foot shocks. Two weeks later, they bred with females. The resulting pups were raised to adulthood having never been exposed to the smell. Yet when the critters caught a whiff of it for the first time, they suddenly became anxious and fearful.
They were even born with more cherry-blossom-detecting neurons in their noses and more brain space devoted to cherry-blossom-smelling.
The memory transmission extended out another generation when these male mice bred, and similar results were found.
Neuroscientists at Emory University found that genetic markers, thought to be wiped clean before birth, were used to transmit a single traumatic experience across generations, leaving behind traces in the behavior and anatomy of future pups.
The  study , published online Sunday in the journal Nature Neuroscience, adds to a growing pile of evidence suggesting that characteristics outside of the strict genetic code may also be acquired from our parents through epigenetic inheritance. Epigenetics studies how molecules act as DNA markers that influence how the genome is read. We pick up these epigenetic markers during our lives and in various locations on our body as we develop and interact with our environment.
Does this mean we as humans have also inherited generations of fears and experiences? Quite possibly, say scientists. Studies on humans suggest that children and grandchildren may have felt the epigenetic impact of such traumatic events such as famine, the Holocaust and the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. And in a Zimbabwean context, traumatic events such as the liberation struggle, Gukurahundi, Cyclone Idai etc.
The study however highlights that because environmental factors for human subjects can’t be controlled, it is difficult to parse out the effects of epigenetics alone.”

The Washington Post

Hear this…
Some common examples of intergenerational trauma include:
 Domestic violence
 Alcohol and drug addiction
 Child abuse and neglect
 Refugees
 Survivors of combat trauma and war related trauma

The aforementioned denial is just one of the red flags to look for. Other manifestations of generational trauma are:
 Emotional numbing and depersonalization
 Unresolved and complicated grief
 Isolation and withdrawal
 Hyper-vigilance
 Fearfulness
 Memory loss
 Anger and irritability
 Nightmares
 Inability to connect with others
 Lack of trust of others
 Substance abuse
 Recurring thoughts of death, dying, and suicide
For school-age children or teens, the signs may be more obvious inside an academic setting. For example:
 Disciplinary issues
 Poor grades
 Cutting classes
 Dropping out
So how do you deal with generational trauma? Read this

As I was reading more and more about this and that, I started exploring about “self repression” as a way to break generational traumas or the passing of fear through generations. For example, according to Good Therapy
 A child suffers  abuse  by a parent, represses the memories, and becomes completely unaware of them as a young adult. The repressed memories of abuse may still affect this person’s behavior by causing difficulty in forming relationships.
 An adult suffers a nasty spider bite as a child and develops an intense  phobia  of spiders later in life without any recollection of the experience as a child. Because the memory of the spider bite is repressed, he or she may not understand where the phobia originates.
 “ Freudian slips ,” or parapraxis, by definition can be thought of as examples of repression. Freud believed that errors in speech, memory, or physical reactions were the result of something hidden in the offender’s  unconscious .

Let’s talk about the latter later. For now, let me know what you think. Do you have phobias or experiences that you think are a generational trauma?

Time doesn’t heal anything, they lied!

Time doesn’t heal anything, they lied! You just learn to live with the pain; memories are all that you have to hold on to.
Memories are all that you have to hold on to although year by year the memories become just but a distant memory, and begin to slip away.
Some seem to slip away but others remain so vivid and other moments so real you can literally feel like you can touch them and feel them.
 
Time doesn’t heal anything, they  lied! Often I cannot help but wonder how different life would be if you were still around.
I cannot help but wonder how different birthdays and family gatherings would be if you were here
How different or rather how it would feel to have a father in my middle age
How it would feel to just have the 18th of October as just that, the 18th of October
 
Time doesn’t heal anything, they lied! I have now mastered how to live with the pain
The pain of never knowing how it would feel if
How it would be different when
How it would sound, change, become
How it would be this or that
 
Time doesn’t heal anything, they lied! But surely time has taught me that there really is a time for everything!
It was a time to cry then, today is a time to remember
Forever loved and never forgotten
#RPJM