on Relationships: Let Her THINK She's in Charge
A story as old as time. We fellas gotta let our girls think they’re in charge to keep the peace. But we’re the men of the house, and that means we really run the show. What’s that? Your girl prefers you call it “our house?” Whatever, that’s cool. Let her think that, too, brother!
You gotta be all about giving your girl the illusion of control, when really, you’re the one wearing the pants. Take dinners, for example. Let your gal pick out what she wants to eat, and take care of the rest. Shop, prepare, cook, and clean up! It’s so easy to let her think she’s in charge when she makes all of the decisions for you both.
See, your girl and you both have this understanding, right? Just go along with it. Is she pissed off that you’re going out with the boys? Don’t sweat it! Tell her exactly what your plans are, and she’ll give you permission to be there in advance. Set your own schedule that she pre-approves. See? It’s just too easy, baby!
Like, when you guys are snuggling up and watching her favorite rom-com instead of joining me for a fun night out, it’s totally cool! Dudes, that’s what you gotta do to give her the vell of control. Never mind that I’m calling you a huge pussy via text because you didn’t take the free ticket to the Cubs game. Fuck my opinion! Let her “choose” “the movie.” Little does she know that when she went to the bathroom, you looked at clips of the game on your phone.
Your girl can “be so controlling sometimes,” huh? She tells you how much wine to drink when you guys are out to dinner? Well, guess what, bud. YOU get to pick which side of the water glass you place that wine! She may think she can tell you to make your bed every morning, but YOU get to decide whether to do it frantically before work or hurriedly after work before she gets home. She may think she’s in charge, but we know the truth.
She may think she can unilaterally decide who you can be friends with, but guess what, dickhead: It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t approve of me! If we’re friends on Facebook, we’re still technically “friends.” I miss you, by the way.
Anyways, sometimes it’s okay to straight up boss her around! Like, when you’re having a nice dinner together, ask her, “Babe, could you pass the brussel sprouts?” She’ll be all like, “Of course, but they’re actually right next to you. I can’t even reach them.” Fellas, we’ve all been there before, when someone can’t reach something at the dinner table.
And when she inevitably goes, “I feel like you resent me for something. Is there something you want to talk about?” Boys, let me tell you: she thought she was facilitating an open dialogue, but you get to decide if you should suppress those feelings! That’s called bro-control. Connie, my therapist, used to call it “displacement,” but I like my term much more.
One time in therapy, when Connie and I came to the conclusion that my inability to assert myself relates back to the cocoon created from childhood social isolation, I was totally bro-controlling my imposter syndrome stemming from my ex being the first person to say she loves me. Like, am i right boys!?
Sorry, gotta run. my therapist wants me to identify five triggers before our next session. Connie calls it “homework,” which is absurd because I love doing it. But, as the patient, I gotta let her think it’s homework. Real patients know homework actually means healing.
Ahhh, women. Gotta love ‘em!