A girl by design

“What has happened to your eyes?” Joe asked.
“What?” Karen panicked turning to her bag to retrieve a mirror.
“The eyelids. They are purple.” Joe continued.
“So?” Karen’s tone turned to sarcastic.
“I don’t know. It looks…” and Joe knew he was going to pay the price for his ignorance.

I cannot blame him though. For a guy who has not grown up around girls, how else was he supposed to know that eyelids, eyebrows, cheeks, name it, can adapt to whatever colour we chose to let them and that was none of his business. And next time he had any bland questions, he could result to boy gangs commentaries or better still, hit Google for objectivity’s sake.

A while later Joe got his chance to grouse.
“Women are so trivial. No wonder they take forever getting ready to get out of the house.”
Trivial. That is taking the wrong angle. Specific is more of it, but even that does not quite do us justice.
Blame our genetic coding but we also cannot explain the impulse to buy endless pairs of shoes we will not wear. Did I hear correct that the current trend is collecting designer shoes? Museum shoes will be more like it.
And like Joe and his counterparts will have discovered, we are masters at exterior design. We effectively co-work with our Creator and reinforce, in front of a mirror, what He saw when He said “we are fearfully and wonderfully made”. With appropriate lighting, we can even be fit to appear on Prime Time TV. Next time, believe your buddies advice: when it comes to women, what you see is not what you get.
We are a resultant weird (for lack of a better word) combination of our mamas advice, our girlfriends opinions, Carol Wahome’s fashion tips, Oprah-****- half clones and a wee bit of our own original sense of fashion. And even that is subject to budgetary factors, determining whether we will end up with a GUCCI or CUCCI.

We cannot explain even to ourselves, our fascination with stilettos that kill our backs, pointed toes that give us prize bunions and polythene suits in weird (that word again) colours. I am trying not to think about that spaghetti-strap top that is a Friday-night wear come rain or hail.
And shouldn’t someone put it straight in our men’s minds that we never dress up for them? We know they like what they see (unlike us who see what we like) but that short jeans skirt just looks good on me so I thought, why not? And if my boobs are spilling out of my kid-size top, so what?

I am not to blame for the size of my rear and front. It is therefore not a compliment, as men will presume, to ogle, worse still, to drool at them.
Back to essentials. What is wrong with taking two hours in the bathroom? At least we do show up there. And the mirror, having been invented so long ago with inspiration from reflections in a pond or river, should not lose its function.

We are not sorry our makeup costs more than we dare acknowledge. But someone has to keep the cosmetics industry running.
And to put records straight, until we can swear by his bank balance, we will have to tag along all our girlfriends (ok, three is a good compromise) on dates. We need the security incase he is a weirdo. It is also a good time to test his generosity strain and conversational skills. Let no one begrudge us, if like cats, we have an affinity for the finer things in life, especially when we are not footing the bill. It is not gold digging. It is wisdom Vs survival instinct. Why crawl when you can stand on someone’s shoulders?

Giggling does not mean we are shallow. It is just a combi-label for our sex and age. It says we are finding whatever is going on hilarious or are trying to and with an original joke, we could even give a genuine laugh.

Gone are the days when men thought all women empty between the ears. So while we will not try to impress the world with our Mensa IQs and our hardworking nature, we still will not mind if they respect our job titles instead of thinking we slept our way to the top. And while we are on that topic, being a single girl does not automatically qualify you for “hunter’s list”. As research has confirmed, greater things than how to satisfy men’s whims run in our cerebrums.

Finally, let the men accept that they were asleep when we were being created. They will never quite figure us out.

Beyond surface allures

“I love my legs. You should see them,” one lady said and everybody turned trying to peer at the legs that were safely hidden under trousers.
“I love my hair and my bum,” went  another.
“I love my complexion and my legs.”
My turn arrived and I wished the question had been “What I did not like about my body” instead of the other way round.
We have all been there. Long intense moments of body searching in front of the bathroom mirror, pointing out all the real and imagined flaws we see on our bodies and what we could do to rectify them. The women’s magazines bombard us with  near-perfect pictures of ideal women who by comparison make us feel like miss plain Jane, here I come. Our friends though meaning no harm show us the ideal complexion, the ideal waist, bum and hip size, hair colour and texture, nail length and we rate ourselves by that… until the standards reverse and we are no longer sure whether a big bum, big bust is fashionable any more.

Most of the time this gets us to a little grumbling followed by a minor plummeting of our self-confidence, followed by a little self-talk on how beautiful we really are. Once in a while we push our partners to tell us more specifically where the beauty lies if only to reinforce our feeble faith in ourselves.
Like the women above,  I wonder  how many of us can confidently stand in front of an audience and say what they love about their bodies and really mean it. Given a chance, we could all change something.

There is a joke about the woman who ahead a near death experience but on meeting God, He tells her that she still has twenty more years to live. Immediately on getting out of hospital, she goes to a plastic surgeon who gives her a facelift, stomach tuck, silicon boobs, hair colouring, the works. But as she is crossing the street to go home, a car hits her and she dies. Mad, she goes to God to find out why he lied to her. He apologises; she had changed so much he could not recognise her. I hope your funny tick is on but even if it is not, there lies a truth for every woman. No matter how perfect everyone thinks our bodies are, there is always that pointed nose, tripped ears, squint eye, too flat chest, straight hips that we could do something radical about if we had the courage and the money. Technology can even allow us to get a brand new face if we do not like the one we adorn right now, only we have to live reminding ourselves and our friends and family it is us only we have a new face.

The TV programme ‘Extreme Makeover’ shows us what wonders that can do to our self-esteem. If crooked teeth are the only things denying us happiness in this world and there is something that can be done about that, why not? If too much body fat will deny us marital bliss and liposuction can do the marvel, why not go ahead and have fun?

The problem is that not everyone will have a chance to take some radical decisions with their bodies. A lot of people who tried that- like one who had steel rods surgically added to her legs to make her taller- are left feeling miserable in the long run. Many of us find that we have to live with our bodies just the way they were created and the sooner we stop crucifying ourselves or the gene donors the better. Crucifying others too. Most of us are already sensitive enough about our bodies without having a second or third party highlight our hockey stick legs or major nose.
Neil Clark Warren in his book “Finding the Love of Your Life” gives insight into dealing wit this. “Your attractiveness depends on the sum total of your qualities. Your strength may balance out your weaknesses. A high score in one quality like ‘personality’ can compensate for a lower score on another quality like ‘good looks’. The trick is to maximise your strengths and minimise your weaknesses.”
Warren’s point is that we can all make the best and most of what we have. A pair of heels or wedges , some waxing, some lipstick, a little self confidence, all go along way. You will have to see Caro Wahome on the fashion pages for more of that.
At the end of the day, we are more than our physiques, more than our looks. It may take quite some mental energy to look beyond the surface or to convince people that there is more than meets the eye but it will be a very sad existence for the woman who derives her value solely from her body even if it pays her bills.

Bagging the elusive man

‘If men are like buses, then how do I catch one?’ That is the title of a book by Michelle Hamon that illustrates how elusive bagging an eligible man has become for so many of the modern day women. The problem is not in that there are no men around- but that today’s man for one reason or another, is in no hurry to think of wedding bells.

Maybe it comes with seasonal tides like the migration of birds but when the settling bug bites, woe unto the single woman who has to attend so many weddings while trying to explain to a myriad aunties why she has not said anything concerning her own. The problem per se is not getting a man because local statistics tell us that though women outnumber men, there are still enough single and eligible men around. Crisis is when a woman reaches that point in life when only wedding bells will do, and she slowly and sadly realizes that she might have to tone down on so much of what she wanted in her perfect man, and even the compromised ‘revised second edition’ might not be all that easy to convince to produce the magical stone.

When the woman finally decides to try some ingenuity on her own to convince the poor bloke that it was time anyway he preserved some of those gorgeous genes in a stable family setting, she comes across some code, that no one has ever bothered articulating its specifics (at least to me). This is the code that has cost so many men and women possible spouses and friendships because someone somewhere went to the trouble of laying down rules for love.

If you ever watched the movie  ‘Two can play that game’, starring Vivica Fox and Morris Chestnut, then you probably came up with the same lesson that I did: that there are no rules to love. But how I so wish that could sink into the skulls of so many, who go about with bleeding hearts, probably because they did not say (or do) want they wanted to say when they should have said it, and now they just wonder at what might have been.

For all the aggressive women who have sat by the phone waiting for it to ring only to resign themselves to the fact that he is not calling- at least not tonight; for all the women who have won his engagement ring for what- four years and he is still to talk about weddings; for all those who have not yet gone beyond knowing his first name, and even that, he did not tell it to you himself, you got it from a friend: when it comes to matters of the heart, there is no script that will work every time. And even when you think you got it, ‘the foolproof recipe for making him walk down the aisle’, the man will always do something that upsets the whole scheme and you want to shout, “It is not meant to be that way.”

I do not dispute that there are the generalisations that work with men: they are the hunters, being chased by a woman spoils the fun of the game… blah blah. The truth is, you are not going to lose him if you never had him, so get him first. And that might mean walking up to him and finding out his name. Or you just might be the one to pop the million-shilling question. Or you have to get off your bum and fix that first date after all.

When it comes to matters of the heart, and here we are not talking about the blood pumping muscle in your thoracic cavity that misses a few beats or races when you see him/her, virtual codes that often exist in people’s minds may only succeed in causing you so much heartbreak. There will always be a battle between logic/sense/ conventions and what you think you heart wants. You will often have to decide between following your heart and using your head. That does not mean you throw all reason to the wind just because his sight preempts everything else that was running in your brain and three months later you are either HIV positive, with a broken heart or wondering what the heck to do with that baby.

May be loving someone is all in the mind and therefore a matter of choice rather than the combined effects of genetic self-preservation, cupid, hormones and emotional imbalances. And may be the fall is so bad it short circuits the brain’s thinking path or moves the grey matter to some other part of the human anatomy. But maybe that is how it is meant to be. Uncharted, unprecedented, unwritten. The only thing a list of do’s and don’ts could ever accomplish is wreak havoc in hearts that are completely taken over by temporary madness.

I wont try and draw parallels between men and buses especially Kenyan buses- but I guess Michelle, catching a man is much more complicated than catching a bus, unless you are ready to flaunt the rules and get in the arena ready to play dirty.

The folly of most weddings

“Men do not love weddings, they love the honeymoon more. Women love weddings, they wish it took as long as the honeymoon”.

Of all the activities or events that ever happen, weddings must be the most female dominated.
Attend any wedding ceremony. More than half the crowd is likely to be women and they are the ones more likely to be directing the whole affair. This fascination with weddings is not a newly acquired habit for women. They have always been sensitive to how their dream wedding will be conducted and will scream or sulk away when there husband to-be or any of their friends is not responsive or team working.

It has actually been said that a woman dreams of her own wedding since she was a child, but a man only starts dreaming his wedding when he discovers a woman (if at all he does). Whether or not that is true, most men will agree that they loathe weddings. And why not? The groom, at most weddings is often an afterthought, just one more prop on the stage. Her stage. Women are generally the ones who direct the ceremony, who most  enjoy dressing up for the ceremony, whose clothing gets to be preserved for posterity (after it has cost both arms and a leg), whose preacher is more likely to conduct the ceremony; all this time while the man gets deeper into debt trying to finance the whole escapade. Right after the ceremony, the man is whisked off to the wedding reception, which may drag on for hours on end as the woman’s relatives surround him trying to tell him how he should take care of their daughter. The honeymoon is the highlight of the whole marriage service for the majority of the male, though this happens to be the item that he typically has to wait the longest to enjoy.

Current societal norms show that a man does not have to marry to enjoy a lot of what goes on in marriage anyway. A study carried out in 2006 showed that most men fear marriage because they feel that it offers little they don’t already have and might require them to do things they don’t want to do. According to the study, the number one reason men are cold on marriage is that sex has become easy to get without it meaning that if matrimony were suddenly the only acceptable arrangement for sex the median age of marriage for men would drop to about 17.So why do men go along with it anyway?

Weddings have been said to be the temporary torture men have to go through to get the woman who makes them happy into their homes- and beds. When a man feels that he loves a particular woman, he wants to own her fully and sometimes having a wedding may be the only way of getting there. Many women, even after years of marriage (or living together) still dream of eventually having a wedding and will begrudge the man who denies them that opportunity in their lifetime.

This may be because the way a woman marries matters. I remember a woman who wanted her wedding redone because the photographer got it all wrong and “did not capture the genuine emotions of the whole ceremony.” This is because the photo session was orchestrated by the pastor who refused pictures to be taken during the service.

“It’s gone and I am so miserable things didn’t go the way I wanted,” she moaned.

Her misery has nothing to do with the man she married. He may be the one who makes her happy but her dream wedding was messed and there was no way to reconcile that.

“He just can’t get it.” She said of her husband. “I dreamed of this all my life and I wanted it to be perfect. Now it all looks so plastic.”

So what is it with women and weddings?

“It is about going in honour, in front of all your friends and relatives, and God,” argues Agnes. “I always knew I’ll have a wedding. It s crazy to think that might not happen.”

Ngatia has been married for 10 years but his wife still bugs him for a church wedding.
“We didn’t have a wedding because there was no time and we were fat broke from college. 10 years later, she is still obsessed with a wedding. What else do women want?” He asks.

“oh, I loved my wedding. I got to plan it for a year, worried about the price of it, had to find the dress of a lifetime, and look better than I ever looked in my entire life. I actually had to starve myself so I would fit in my wedding dress.” Says Tama who walked down the aisle last year.

“ I have not met the man  want to marry. But he has no choice when it comes to a wedding.  I Even have decided on the theme colours,” Wambui.

But not all women are bananas about weddings. Jebet is planning to move in with her boyfriend this year. “I know my parents will be mad. Especially my mother. But I want all that attention and pressure that comes with weddings,” she says.

Men’s lack of interest in weddings may have a lot to do with the way they have been brought up. Some of the comments form men about weddings are as follows:

“Men just want their wedding day to get over asap, but they will understand the fantasies of their bride and will do everything to make it her happiest day.”

“If I were single and getting married tomorrow, I would forgo a traditional wedding and opt for getting married on a cruise ship. And no, not because of all the nice places the ship would take me, but because getting married on a cruise ship means that the honeymoon begins just as soon as you walk back to your cabin,”
“another wrote in a blog.

“I have just never fully understood the need to play those “roles” and wear those “costumes” and recite those lines of what is essentially a play that everyone seems to feel the need to perform for friends and family in order to demonstrate the love they share.”

“I cannot imagine myself standing in front of all those people to utter some foolish promises. If she believes that I love her, why not come home with me? That is all that matters. We love each other and want to stay together.”

“Generally, men hate weddings. While every woman feels slighted if she’s not invited to the wedding of even a passing acquaintance in college, us guys get offended if we’re invited to anything other than a close blood relative.”

“I couldn’t waste my money on a wedding. And I didn’t want the publicity. If it’s just her I wanted, why go to all that trouble?” asks Ochola, married for the last 13 years.

“Cant we just be simple. Sign the stupid papers, make the vows, say the prayers, and good night.” Another curtly put it.

Wrong focus

“I understand that weddings are for families first, brides second, and everyone else third.”

“I have nothing against marriage itself, but I hate the monster that modern weddings have turned into. It’s more about showing off, spending money, and partying than a joining of a man and woman. Then you throw in jealousy and all the other bad emotions, the jockeying for position, and hurt feelings to arrive at a modern wedding.”

I have always dreamed of giving my daughter a glorious wedding with all the trimming. Then I came to realize that it was never for her really, it was for me. I wanted to look great because of all I was going to do. I wanted the applause for a job well. Marriage is about the union of the couple, NOT the ceremony or gifts.”

“Marriages are about love and commitment, weddings are about showing off.”

“Weddings are just an excuse for people who are fortunate enough to find love to be greedy and suck money and time from their friends while treating them as if it were their privilege to even be a part of their wedding.”

My Thorn in the Flesh

It is nice I have a bf who is so the opposite of me in so many ways. Of course he knew I was mad at him, even though I was not willing to talk. And did he coerce me until I finally said what it is that was disturbing me. He cannot sleep over an issue. I can live with an issue for ever. If he hadn’t brougt that up I would have stayed with it for weeks, even months, just trying to see if I can see the love of God in his life- or drive him to guilt and to being a better Christian. But he got me, by asking me the simple question: What do I think of him when he does something wrong? The truth- I would rather he did nothing wrong. I would rather he were perfect. In his career, finances, dressing, faith, prayer, devotion, loving me. The truth is that he is not. And none of us are.
Then he challenged me by telling me that my spiritual life is an example to im. That was sweet. But also bad. I wanted his spiritual life to be an example to mine. I didn’t want to feel like I was coercing him to love God more for me- I wanted him to love God more for himself. That way he becomes a better man. I wanted him to help me love God more. May be I will never understand how these things work. In my desire to draw him closer t God, I do not want to draw him to myself, or drive him away. Tricky. But I guess in that struggle, I have grown closer to God, probably because I now have a thorn in my flesh that cannot make me get comfortable.

I am a very pathetic Christian most of the time. I fail so many times, I am often just amazed by God’s redeeming grace. In the last 6 months, I have come to love the verse that says that as far as the east is from west, so far as he removed my sin from me. Becasue I find it hard to forgive myself evertime I screw up. I just love it when Casting Crowns sings: I am not holding onto Him but He is holding onto me, in their song East to West.  Can God forgive me and ignore my failings and weaknesses. Yes He can. Yes He does. If nothing else, I think this relationship should teach me the same. To forgive others and to accept their failings wthout tagging them for  a lifetime. I know I always hated weaknesses in people especially men, but I think it’s time I dealt with that. We all are weak. We all fail. But for God’s grace we’d all be so gone. We can extend the same grace to others- treat them like they have not messed.

The Christian Girl’s dilemma

May be I am just pining for no reason, but I feel that I need to stamp my foot on some matters. Two weeks ago my boyfriend and I promised ourselves that we would concentrate on loving God and discovering our purpose in Him. The reason for this was that I had reached that point in life when I had enough. My faith was quickly slipping downhill, my foundations had been shaken to the core, I had been left out and exposed. I remembered prayers and promises I had made to myself and God. That he would always have thge highest place in my life. That I would honor him in all I do, more so in my relationships. That I would never let a man ccome between me and Him.

I felt I had failed. I had substituted my love for a man with my love for God. Not in the serious sense, but one man was slowly edging out my priorities, my reverence and obedience to one true God, and it is not because he didn’t love God himself. I believe he honestly did. But lust was such a problem in our lives, God got lost in the struggle.

Thursday night I was really down. I had gone through a job interview that racked all my nerves and I needed warm arms to hold me. But I didn’t want him to come home. I was afraid of what would happen.

Looking back now, we have broken most of the resolve we had two weeks ago. It has taught me several lessons. One that I have no idea on how to date in a godly manner. Second that my flesh is so weak. Third that I really need to establish my priorities.

Today I called him up early in the morning that he may come to church. He woke up. but when I called him after church, he told me that he was still at home. I hung up. What kind of a man has to be coerced to go to church? I later met him and he explained that he dozed off again. Understandable. But what really got me was the smell of alcohol in his breath. Honestly, I think I am climbing the wrong tree- have been for quite a while. But I am not afraid to back down and do right by God. Please help me God.

In Search of the Perfect Mate

Women love shopping. OK. Most women thrive on shopping, and why not? Even experts say it is therapeutic. To perfect the art, women biblically follow the adage, “if it doesn’t fit, don’t buy”, some advice that has saved them ending up with pieces they cannot wear a month later. The difficult part comes when the same wisdom is applied to their search for partners, resulting in tragic results and conclusions- women are impossible to please.

So impossible that an Internet joke has been spurned about it. It is about a store that has husbands for sale. The store has six floors and the attributes of the men increase as a shopper ascends the flights. There is a catch though- a shopper can only go up or exit the building on whatever floor he/she is on. By the time the shopper is on the fifth floor, the deal is already too good. The men there have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak. One particular shopper goes on to the sixth floor and there finds a sign that reads: Floor 6 – You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!

If such a store ever existed, then the number of those visiting floor six can only go one way- up. Forget women’s fascination with the bad-boy-cum-jerk phenomenon. Deep inside, all women are longing for that man who will treat them like the queens they believe they are, and any man who even comes close to such a description will find himself in very high demand. And I can guess the female variation of that joke- the women here have no kids, earn less than you… what were the other characteristics Info-track Research and Harris Interactive came up with?

But do perfect men exist? No, do perfect partners exist- you know- those from Adam’s rib bone allegory, that if you miss them once, you have missed on destiny? And is that partnerhood mutual in the sense that your Mr/Mrs Right will think the same of you?
It is normal to have ideals of the kind of partners we think we need. Women in particular go through their search for lifetime partners armed with a shopping list of ‘have to’ and ‘absolutely not’ characteristics. Tall, dark, handsome… Anyone who does not even come close to that is promptly checked off the list. Some, amidst the rubble, unearth their gem. But many will testify to having kissed enough frogs hoping that hidden beneath was the prince who would match them to the sunset, only to discover that WYSIWYG (what you see is what you get) is not just for desktop publishing.

We will not all be lucky to find the partner who maps our childhood mental beau. Even probability can prove that. A certain self appointed statistician went to the trouble of explaining why he will never meet his proverbial girl. I will not try to explain or understand the standard deviation principles and statistics theories used to come up with the results (I skipped STA 110 classes), but he concluded that as a 21 year old from North America; looking for a beautiful female aged 18-25, with a wee bit of intelligence (not so much to ask for), it would take him 3493 weeks (that’s nearly 67 years) of daily blind dates before he met one of the 18726 probables in the entire world. Taking into consideration our life expectancy, he would be dead (and her too) before he found her.
After all that, do you still need more evidence why you should just learn to live with his small misdemeanors and hope he will style up under your tutelage? Or why you should just learn to embrace her 40”+ waistline and her nagging and meanwhile get a life insurance?

So what is so wrong with settling for nothing but the best? Assuming the “till death do us part” vows are for real, it is only fair to have in mind what you really want. And even professionally we know only specific goals work.
We cannot begrudge anyone who feels shortchanged on what they got at the end of their wedding night, or whatever variation we have made of that. We can even try and understand their plight as they search of the perfect man/woman, only too discover that they will never come with all the trappings you need them to and even when they do, the packaging is often all so wrong you may fail to recognise them. It is only those who have the patience to scour beneath the mismatched clothes, nose-mining fingers, crazy weave, shallow laughter, loud belching (and snoring), funny accent and body odour problem, who may brandish their had earned trophy of frog-turned prince/ess.

I am not trying to discourage all those who are armed with a fantasy list of the man who will keep them warm in old age (if it lasts that long).
The sad fact at the end of the day is that perfect partners never existed and if they did, they went extinct a number of millennia ago. Ditching a list though does not mean giving up any standards and facing life with an empty slate and open mind. It rather means being open to the mysterious, unpredictable nature of love and gauging how we rate as partners before we can rate others.

For even when you think you found him/her, you will find that they come more in raw material form, and it is only hard work and persistent belief and faith in them that will give you what you have been searching for. Perfection does not create a perfect bond, love does. And the fun is not in getting there, it is in the journey of growth and transformation for the two of you.

Women and age lies

One eleven year-old girl is counting years- to the day she will turn eighteen. Unlike so many of us whose fascination with that age was so we can acquire a national ID with which to terrorize our parents and club bouncers, her motivation is so she can get a vote.
“If only children can vote,” she mused. The only form of support she can now give to her favourite presidential candidate is monitoring the size of the crowds he pulls during campaigns. Her political goodwill for the candidate aside, she reminded me of the worldwide lies we tell about our ages. And made me wonder how soon it will be before she can start subtracting the years she is so keen on adding now.

Most lies I try to understand. Like telling your man he looks like Denzel Washington when he certainly does not. Or telling him you just happened to be in that outfit he loves. Or telling your woman she does not look fat. The age lie is one confounding one though.

Most people I know are touchy about how old they are, even when there is no reason to. The ensuing lies are not a preserve of either sex but women seem to get the hats off award for lying about their ages. When they wont lie, then they evade the question. Word has it that women will always lie about their age and the only way of knowing a woman’s true age is to cut her in half and count the rings! Also that the longest ten years of a woman’s life falls between the ages of 25 and 30- any age told here could as well have two subtracted from it. And that the 39th year is the longest year of a woman’s life. I could agree. One girl managed to remain at 18 for her four years of high school, making us wonder if after some point, she used a different age measuring mechanism than the rest of us.

Age is not an issue for most people during their earlier years. In fact during that time, age is not complete without a half or some months to it. You are not just nine. You are nine and three months old. You turn sixteen- and everyone has to know. Sixteen is the epitome of maturity, the turning into a woman/man. Eighteen. You are old enough to face up to responsibility. People have to know you have an ID. You can get your driving license. Twenty-one. You may not scream it from the rooftops but you are cool with it. Then gradually trouble starts. The lies and evasiveness start after 25.

But do women always lie about their ages? Between men and women who lies most? Why?

Dory Hollander, a psychologist and author of “101 Lies Men Tell Women,” says her data shows that women lied about weight, age and appearance, while men would lie about achievements, connections and actions. Women’s lies were aimed at protecting the other person’s feelings or the relationship, whereas men’s tended to be protective of their own freedom and autonomy.

The greater pressure on women to always look physically appealing and the stigma associated with old age play a huge role in the need for women to look younger at all cost, even lie about their ages. Young is appealing. The male mind is inclined to like a young female- she is likely to be more reproductively healthy hence species survival.

Grace, 58, would rather be honest about her age.
“ I want to bask in the glory of being told I look younger than I really am. Whether or not this is true, it’s nice to hear,” she says.
But she agrees that women feel the pressure to keep looking young as it makes them more attractive.
“We take pills, use anti-aging creams, go on diets, dye our hair, dress younger and if need be, lie about our actual ages. A lot of times we get away with it,” she says.

21 year-old Aggie would rather be vague about her age.
“I am always too young for my friends and the men I date. I find myself adding two years to my age or evading the question. If I told them the truth, they will think I am lying.”

Men are not under the same pressure to look young and appealing and can declare their actual age and still be declared desirable. But they also lie about their ages.

Oliver 27, told me his age. But he was quick to tell me under normal circumstances, he would not tell.
“Age comes with expectations. If I told you I am thirty-seven, that certainly raises certain questions in your mind, like why I am not yet married. To be safe I will tell you an age I think I can handle. If I was 32 and an MP, I would let the whole world know. There is prestige that comes with that. It all has to do with how successful you feel for your age.”

He is of course convinced that women are the greatest liars about their ages. “Women lose their value as they grow older. Unlike wine women get worse with age,” he quips. “My reaction to a 24 year-old and to a 34 year-old will be very different. Women lie to look younger because they think they will be more desirable.”

Maina, 23 does not think age is such a big deal to a man but he would still lie about his age to a girl.
“If a man wants to date a younger or older chick, then he doesn’t want to be out of her range. If I was 37 and I met a girl I thought was 22, I would tell her I am 28. Once we she likes me, she will not mind the lie,” he says.

But it does not make sense to Aggie why a man will lie about his age. “It does not serve him any purpose. We know why women lie about their age but what does a man have to gain by removing two or three years from his age? If I can date a 34 year old man I can date a 41 year-old.”

May be the solution as she suggests is to tell anyone interested to keep guessing your age and you go with whatever they say. So long it is not above your real age.

YES WE LOVE ATTENTION

This rather long list of what turns on the charm in women ran in Crazy Monday a few weeks ago. To make a woman happy a man only needs to be: A friend, a companion, a lover, a brother, a father, a master, a chef, an electrician, a carpenter, a plumber, a mechanic, a decorator, a stylist, a psychologist, a pest exterminator, a psychiatrist, a healer, a good listener, an organizer, a good father, very clean, sympathetic, athletic, warm, attentive, gallant, intelligent, funny, creative, tender, strong, understanding, tolerant prudent, ambitious, capable, courageous, determined, true, dependable, passionate… without forgetting to: give her compliments regularly, love shopping, be honest, be very rich, not stress her out, not look at other girls; and at the same time he must also: Give her lots of attention, but expect little himself, give her lots of time, especially time for herself, give her lots of space, never worrying about where she goes, never to forget birthdays, anniversaries and arrangements she makes.

On the other hand the list for making a man happy had only one entry: Leave him alone. There is no denying the list was a bit lopsided but it is not a secret women love attention and can be quite hard when it comes to making demands. One of the worst things you can do to them is ignore them. Their attention seeking will go from simple flirting to exclusivity and monogamy claims, sometimes to the more outrageous drama queen syndrome and in extreme cases to jealous wives scalding lovers.

Attention seeking could be as old as man himself. One theory goes that it started in the Garden of Eden when God told the woman that her desire would be only for her husband, and him, instead of responding to that, would lord it over her. Another one says that an attentive male is likely to stick around and foster a family after mating. A woman will therefore seek to feel important and loved in a relationship prior to engaging in physical intimacy to guarantee the survival of the species.

Whatever the case, attention makes women feel good. They will go out of their way to get noticed, complimented, be treated nice and exclusive, have things done for them, pampered, spoiled, ooohed and aaahed over, be won over, too much like cats- a parallel our own Nicolas Asego could try working on next time. If being a woman is not enough to guarantee this, then ploys (some of these men so frustrating or silly) come to work.

Anything therefore that competes with her for attention is immediately blacklisted. Football definitely features on that list. A lot of women hate football. I do. My reasons may have more to do with pure rebellion-men love it so I go the other way- than a logical reason but the football widows around will vouch for that. It is no fun being sidelined for the screen, knowing that the Premier League is more important to his calendar than you. Last Saturday, I happened to be in a very female setting during the Man-U vs Arsenal game. Not only was the channel changed the moment the game started (too bad for me who wanted to keep tab of the scores), but the frequent roars from the bar across the street did a lot to upset my fellow female folks. Football demands total attention from the man and staying up (and out) in the night is a misdemeanour they can live with. Few women can try competing with that and to make things easier they learn to enjoy the game plus its rules; cram the clubs names plus those of the players, coaches and referees (ouch) and know the schedules. Yeah, and get along with his game-watching cronies.

Not all men love their jobs. But most of them realize that they do need the job, at least for an income. But woe unto the woman who has a workaholic for her man. Unless she is also one, then there is no end to the bargains both of them will have to make and I am no prophet of doom here, but she will have to understand that she comes after his work- real tough.

The other nearly unbeatable attention competitor will have to be his mother- especially if he is a mamma’s boy. No denying the linkages that exist between mothers and sons, but a man who cannot sever those for the woman in his life is one serious cause of heartache in the home. As I said, women love attention. Competing for that with another woman has to be a near killer. Oh, how could I forget: mistresses, clandes, and any other woman with the sights on your man can easily fall here. They may not do much damage but they will take a good chunk of your airtime.

The debate on cars is not that convincing- until you mess up with his latest wheels. Then you understand why some men will refer to their cars as their babes.

Booze and the boys come last but not because they are of the least influence. They could actually be the number one offenders. Of course his friends were there before you showed up. They will be there after you are long gone and forgotten. They represent brotherhood and probably, the less roller-coaster side of his life. They will often come first, before you. Learn to live with that or make his world revolve around you- and do not break his heart after he has ditched the boys for you.

Seeking attention though should not get to the point where one thrives on it. It misses and you wilt. Giving attention on the other hand should not mean being clingy and needy neither should it mean being predictable and boring, a poodle at her beck and call.

For the man who wants to up his game, it is a small –ok not so small- bargain that can only work to improve the relationship. Only that individuality and freedom should not be lost in the giving.

My voice for the Unborn

We all think babies are cute especially if they are on Pampers or Vaseline commercials. Until you realize that you are the one who is to have the baby and that decision never for once featured in your contingency plans. You either have two years to complete college (and your parents are having enough trouble raising your fees), you are just launching into the deep end of your career, your man just gave you the boot, or you are 45 years old, with your last child in form two and wondering what the heck to do with a baby.

I believe there is no greater honor God bestowed a woman than that: being able to produce, nurture and bring forth a life. She may not have had the choice in the particular order of chromosome combinations but it is her baby alright. It is evident it in the pride in her eye as she watches the baby breastfeed, as he takes his first step, as he leaves for his first day to school, on the day he graduates from college, on the day she walks down the aisle…

But bless choice. We have discovered that if a baby comes at the wrong time, science did provide options. We will visit one of the many ‘abortueries’ around town and get rid of the ‘blob of blood’ before it messes up our cutely planned life. And life will go on. Monday we will be back at work or in class, thriving as ever, Saturday we walk down the aisle clad in pure white, sweet and innocent and Sunday we are ushering in the Church. But as much as we may want to look sanctimonious and harmless, the epitome of a liberated modern woman, statistics are selling out our game. Looking at abortion figures from a local university, I gained a new respect for every woman and girl who chooses to give birth after a crisis pregnancy. It is only after getting through the horror list of all abortions that have been procured (some are actually repeat offenders) that you realize that giving birth takes courage and strength, and I am not talking about the pain involved.

The choice to sacrifice a baby for “us” will cross the mind of almost every one who has had to deal with a baby we never bargained for. Of course at that  time we would rather not think of it in terms of a baby- more of a pregnancy, the result of conception. It gets easier if we are thinking of it versus a father who has jumped ship, an income that is not enough to feed you alone, a job that takes up more calories than you are taking in, a husband who would care less, or parents who are ready to disown you. Then we will defend abortion as a woman’s right, an important political symbol of the emancipated woman’s right to “control her own body.” But before we swallow that emancipation crap, maybe it is time we went back to our woman instinct and asked ourselves how free it makes us, trading an unwanted pregnancy for guilt, shame, years of denial and a permanent life marker where life is dated as ‘before’ and ‘after’ the abortion. It is simply a cruel trade-off, one we may take the rest of our lives getting over if we ever do

If you still insist on going ahead and getting rid of the minor inconvenience that pregnancy is, it would only be fair to consult the man responsible and not so that he pays for the operation. He just might want to keep the child. Like a friend one day said, “ who knows? That child might grow up to be the next president of Kenya. I cannot just take that risk.” But for those with consciences the size of the Pacific, save yourself the trauma. You will of course lose a lot in choosing to keep a baby you never bargained for but get encouraged. Researchers investigating post-abortion reactions say that the only positive emotion associated with abortion is relief. And that is understandable considering the pressure a woman is likely to be in to get it done with.

May be it is time someone told of the emotional trauma, of the crying bouts, the years of wondering if you will ever get another baby, the revulsion every time we see a baby, the hoping that people and God will accept you if they ever discover the truth, the flashbacks that we are have to use all our mental energy to repress…

May be, just maybe, life does not begin at conception. And may be, we have no right to bring a baby in the world when we think we cannot handle it. May be we even possess sophisticated philosophies, strong coping resources, and semantic agility, that can keep the aborted life at a distance. The only question which remains is how well we will be able to live with this truth…or how long we will be able to run from it?