When the topic turns to Sponsorship, you often hear the phrase: “Boys with Boys, Girls with Girls”. I assume the reason for this is so that a sexual relationship doesn’t develop and skew the relationship. I find that fascinating. It brings up quite a few questions, though.
First and foremost, is: “What if you’re Gay?”. If you’re a Gay man, do you have to have a Lesbian Female for a Sponsor? I think so. I think we should pay every bit as much attention to the healthy choices made by our homosexual Brothers and Sisters, so I urge you to change your warning to: “Boys with Boys, Girls with Girls unless you’re Gay in which case it’s Fags with Dykes and Dykes with Fags.” It’s a little wordy, but I know you won’t mind. When it comes to interfering with peoples Sobriety, and demanding that others do things your way, your efforts know no bounds.
The second question that comes up is: “Don’t people of the opposite sex have a viewpoint that can help me understand my issues better?”. My world is made up of 51.1% Women. That means that — ballpark — 51.1% of my problems are going to involve women. I don’t understand women very well, so I’m probably not going to be terribly successful in solving these problems. Not by myself. In many ways, my not understanding Women is what caused the problem to begin with. Thinking that the same type of brain that got me into the problem will get me out of the problem is the kind of thinking that kept me drunk for 25 years.
An example: I told my sponsor: “She was worried about her job. Her boss told her if she was late again she was fired. I told her: ‘Better not be late again. Leave home earlier in the morning.’ “.
My sponsor’s a very wise man and quite sensitive. He nodded sagely. “That’s sound advice, delivered well. How did she react?”
“She freaked out.”
We were stumped. “She must be hormonal” was the best we could come up with. For damn sure, I was in the clear.
I happened to mention it to a female friend. The reaction was a little different. “Oh My God! You insensitive Pig!!! That poor girl!”
Oops. I see bad stuff coming…
“2 rules to remember! Just 2. That’s 1 and 1. You can remember 2 things, right?
1. Women don’t want sensitive men, we just want you to know when to shut the fuck up and listen.
2. This one goes with the last one. Just LISTEN, don’t fix –or tell us what you think we should do — just listen.
So… Captain Obvious, do you think there’s any possibility that she didn’t know that she should leave the house earlier? She was probably asking for a little help around the house in the morning so she could leave the house earlier. Do you understand how condescending it was for you to try to fix her problem?”
No. I don’t. Fucking shoot me, Okay? I don’t understand.
I’m 50 years old and I’ve been studying women my entire life. I think about them every waking moment of my life. When I was in my early teens I even did it in my sleep. All that intense study from every angle imaginable has netted me two pieces of information:
1) Some women are really soft in some really nice places.
2) Women like to be ALL the way in the car before you take off.
That’s it. That’s the sum total of 50 years of study.
The first discovery has no real practical application, but I’ll tell you, I really like re-discovering it. It fascinates the living hell out of me! Every time is like the first time. It just never gets boring!
The second one is the shit! That discovery’s going to win me the Nobel Prize for something, I don’t know what! It’s totally chartable! It follows a pattern: Grandma or little girl, hottie or bulldyke, it never varies.
The beginning of the ritual establishes their personality type. Individualism is expressed here. Once they are in the car they will perform a number of personal task such as putting on their seat belt, locking their doors, pulling down the vanity mirror and giving a peak (they will never adjust their face, just make certain that it’s there) and kicking pizza boxes out of the way.then comes the tell: they will do the Butt-Scooch. They wiggle their hiney like they’re setting on a nest. No discernible reason for this, but they all do it, every time. You’re nearly there. Then they turn, cock their head slightly, and smile. Bingo! You get the smile, you just made the “A” list, buddy! That’s your queue that it’s time to go.
Don’t know what it’s all about, but it’s a fact.
Men don’t care about being all the way in the car before you take off. They don’t. They pretend to, but they just don’t.
You can take off with them hanging out the door, legs banging against the side of the car and they only PRETEND to care. You can run over their foot — bone sticking out their ankle — and they can be calmed down by saying absolutely anything. Doesn’t matter. Just say something, it’ll blow over. Here are some actual examples I have used:
Mike: What the Hell’s wrong with you! Goddam! You ran over my foot!
Me: I gotta piss like a racehorse.
Mike: Oh, Dude, one time I hadda piss so bad…
Steve: Jesus Christ! I think my leg is BROKEN! What the Hell are you doing?
Me: Batman comes on in 15 minutes.
Steve: Man, I LOVE that show! POW! BAM!!
Another woman — with a lot of wisdom — explained the “late-to-work” scenario this way:
Men consider the strongest compliment you can pay another man is to offer to “Fix his Shit”.
Bubba: “Hey, knucklehead! A’hm gonna come over this weekend and show ya how to get 12 more horse power outta that mother!”
Me: Bubba wants to be mah friend!
Women want to be loved for who they ARE, not for what they DO or how they LOOK. Whatever they DO, someone will always do it better than them. If that’s what you like about them you will eventually leave them. No matter how good they LOOK, someone will always look better. A woman must be loved for who they ARE. No one can do that better than they can.
If you try to offer them advice on how to do something better, they assume that action is important to you, and your comment indicates A) their inability to perform it your way shows an underlying discontent and B) that discontent is centered on them as a person.
Me: “You should use “Goof-Off!” on that. It’ll come off easier. Want me to get some?”
Her: He thinks I’m a lousy housekeeper and he’s probably going to leave me! I’ll bet it’s that New Bitch at work!
Do I understand this? Not at all. I can say the words, but I don’t understand it. I need a woman to explain this — and many other differences — to me. I need a guide to walk me through the labyrinth of female thought process and help me come to some understanding. Because I want to understand, I just can’t. I don’t have the equipment.
What concerns me most about the “Boys with Boys – Girls with Girls” mentality though, is: “Are you people unable to control your sexual urges?” This scares the shit out of me. If you can’t share intimate emotional and sexual experiences with a (girl, boy, whatever sex you are attracted to) and not feel you have to act out with that person, you may need a lot more help than A.A. can give you. If you cannot hear about the pain associated with the sexual experiences generally chronicled in the “Harms Done” portion of the 4th step without feeling you have to use this information against that person — or even if it causes you a plain-old case of the hornies — then you don’t need to be listening to 4th steps of anyone.
What I just described is a textbook example of a sexual predator. That would be YOU.
There is this thing that happens to me. I don’t know what causes it or why it’s me, but it happens. Several times a year I’ll be talking with someone about nothing-in-particular and it falls out. The Big One. The one thing they didn’t tell their Sponsor, usually sexual in nature. They quite often will seems kind of confused about it — these are not always people I am terribly close to — and they’ll say: “I’ve never told anyone that. I don’t know why I said it.”
Sometimes we talk about it. Sometimes I just smile to let them know that I heard them and my opinion of them hasn’t changed. More than half of these people are women. I’ve heard about rape and incest and bestiality and not knowing who the Father of their child is and all manner of debasement. Not once did I get a woody. Not once did I think I could use that to my advantage to get in her pants. Not once did it change my opinion of her.
Well… That’s not entirely true. Several times I had previously wanted to get together with a woman before she spilled IT. Afterwards I realized that I would rather be detached sexually and be a useful tool for her recovery than be a lover.
It is a Joy and a Blessing to be of assistance in this manner. Anyone can have sex with a girl, but am I Man enough to help her Heal? I am Honored to have been a part of that, for every single one of them.
You do it your way, I’ll do it mine.