I have a little gang of close man-friends. Each of these guys is a rare and wonderful pearl of a man, prince of a man, king amongst kings, in his own unique way. I love my man-tribe, for many reasons. Not the least of which is that, when I am between lovers, like now, their friendship and attention sources me and sustains me and envelops me.
In a moment of reverie and appreciation yesterday, I shot a quick thank-you text to one guy, because I was wearing a bracelet he had given me a few years before, when we went to Taos together. He called me immediately, and we had a fun talk and made a dinner date. A bit later, I wrote to another guy, telling him I watched a movie he had recommended to me, and how much I enjoyed it. A flurry of e-mails followed, with a plan to get together.
And maybe not.
Women have the power to get anything and everything we want from the men in our world.
Usually we don’t feel that way.
Well, there is a blight amongst women, right now.
And as anyone who has ever studied agricultural history knows, blights are deadly things. Blights can wipe out whole food crops. Case in point: the Irish Potato Famine in 1845, where over 1 million people died of starvation and a million more fled the country—an Gorta Mór.
Well, we have ourselves an Gorta Mór (the Great Hunger) right here, right now, sisters.
Women are starving for delicious, loving attention from men, and vice versa.
We are all malnourished for intimacy, closeness, a feeling of being seen, known, loved, adored, worshipped, honored and “gotten.”
This crazy world is not set up in a way that makes it easy for each of us to get our minimum daily requirements.
And what happens when people are starving?
Yeah, you got it.
Bad table manners.
Piss poor, actually.
We can get grabby and pushy, because we fear we may never see such like again.
We grab too much, sometimes steal our sister’s seat, and sneak some into our purse for later.
Not to mention, we kinda lose our ability to consume very much because we have all been deprived for so long.
Sometimes we even lose our appetite altogether.
We all have girlfriends (or are girlfriends) whom we call “the avoiders”—the women that avoid men completely. Or we complain bitterly that there are no good men out there. Or we try to stuff every guy we meet into a husband suit, before our first date. Or we are with a guy, but continually find everything wrong with him and set about complaining, criticizing and fixing him.
If you are over 21, you know none of these techniques is in any way effective towards the ultimate goal of ending an Gorta Mór.
And of course, there is no way we will solve this excessively large riddle here, no matter how gorgeous and talented this writer is.
But this being The Pleasure Revolution, and you all being Pleasure Revolutionaries, I want to invite you to conduct a real live experimental research project. And report your findings, right here.
Let’s begin to put an end to this blight, shall we?
We can start, right now.
Well, rather than waiting for him to fulfill you, get you, love you, give you what you think you want…
Rather than continually looking at where he is failing you…
Rather than waiting for him to figure it all out…
I want to toss the ball of change and transformation into your lap.
I got a little assignment for YOU.
Today—as soon as you get to the last word of this blog—I want you to pick 3 guys in your world…
And acknowledge them.
Yeah, you heard me.
Just sail a little “thank you” their way.
A tiny thumbs up.
Word of warning: this can’t be faked.
We can all feel the hostility behind insincere thanks.
So your first task is to find your way to your inner delicious.
And then, pick 3 guys in your world and give them a very specific acknowledgement for a way in which they make your life better.
Acknowledgement and appreciation are flabby muscles for most of us. Today is your day to dust that little muscle off and work it like you mean it.
Even if you are a woman who is so mad at her guy, she can’t even find one thing to appreciate about him.
Even if you are a woman who has been so burned by men that you want to cross to the other side of the street when you see one.
Even if you think you do not know any men, you really do—your waiter, your grocer, the security guy at your office.
And the more this assignment irritates you—the more you require it.
So, my Sisters, I cannot wait to hear your reports, below, as we do our part to end an Gorta Mór.
And here is what I want to hear from you:
How did you fire up your inner delicious?
What guys did you acknowledge?
And how did that feel to you?
And what kind of responses did you get?
I am so grateful to YOU. You are my heroine—a woman who is willing to be the change. (Thanks for that cool concept, Gandhi!)
With so much love and pleasure,
P.S. For in-depth training in the Womanly Art of Owning and Operating Men, check out Virtual Pleasure Boot Camp.
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