How to F*ck a Woman

by Ali Adler

  So, Christmas morning, before the house started reeking of nutmeg, Cubby suggested they go outside for a walk before anyone else was awake. Beth knew Cubby hated exercise only as much as he hated chilly temperatures and itchy wool hats, but she went with it. He walked her outside behind her childhood home, got down on one of his creaky knees on the potentially creaky frozen lake and proposed marriage forever.

  They came back into the warm house, and Cubby was clapped on the back by her father, a former college football player already slurping greasy eggnog at seven-thirty in the morning. For Cubby, getting engaged to the linebacker’s daughter was like finally being accepted into the fraternity that wouldn’t take him. His proposal usurped the holiday usually reserved for celebrating the birth of Jesus in this particular house. Cubby had gone out and spent thousands of dollars on a ring, knowing he didn’t really want to marry Beth. He felt like spending all the cash on a ring was worth avoiding the emotional confrontation of not wanting to marry her. It wasn’t a very well thought out plan, but I empathize with his short-term desperation. It’s like plugging a leaky boat with a diamond, when what you really need is a different boat.

  I’m technically responsible for the dissolution of their relationship. We were in the room one day and Jonah, another writer, brought his wife, Lorelei, in to visit him at work. Lunch in a writers’ room was a time to indulge in our latest food fetish and ridicule someone; in this case Cubby and his life choices. This day was like most others, except that Jonah’s wife was, for whatever series of clearance glitches, actually in the sanctum sanctorum with us.

  While you might practice discretion at your office, in the room, we had a wilding of the truth. So, when someone started talking about a coed baby shower, I blurted out to Cubby that he shouldn’t take Beth with him. It was too cruel to celebrate something so lovely and intimate with Beth, when he was dragging his emotional feet about the wedding. I forgot that Lorelei was friendly with Beth. She registered this, and slipped Beth the information. Lorelei told Beth that everyone in the writers’ room seemed to understand a basic fact about her life that she didn’t know herself yet: Cubby was very ambivalent about her, despite his two-and-a-half carat “commitment.”

  Cardinal rule: what is said in the room, stays in the room. Regardless, a domino was pushed over that day, and they all fell in rapid succession. Beth ended it with Cubby. Cubby was sad but relieved. He blamed me and then, two awkward weeks later, thanked me. Classy as always, Beth handed back the ring. Beth very quickly found the love of her life, and they are married now. Cubby has also gotten married to an even deeper version of the emotionally inaccessible, WASPY pretty type. Hope his new wife’s not the second-guessing “I could’ve done better” type that he was.

  All this is to say, these two people who genuinely cared for each other weren’t right together. Both were trudging forward in lockstep. They needed a fender-bender with the truth. That was me, I guess. Had Cubby only been more honest within his relationship, it wouldn’t have had to go that far. But, the thing that was supposed to happen, happened. Two unhappy people became four happy people.

  Those annoying phrases—“everything happens for a reason,” “there are no accidents,” “silver linings,” “meant to be”—that entire jar of thinking is true. Life is a series of opportunities for growth, but you can miss some of these moments if you resist change. You keep your head down, content with the thing that’s broken because at least it’s familiar. So, please, don’t be begrudgingly/reluctantly locked into a bad thing, trying to be a “nice” guy. Because you’re locking someone else away from their good thing, too.

  Share your feelings. Give her the respect of knowing what you really think about her. Maybe the way in which she responds to your openness/fears is just the thing you were looking for in order to feel more connected to her. Or maybe she was just about to dump your ambivalent ass. Either way, we are back to truth and openness.

  All this being said, if you still want to play emotional possum, it’s easy. To end your relationship like a scared little boy, just stop giving, keep taking. To quicken this hideous process, go ahead and double up on helpings, you selfish noncommunicator. If your relationship is like that car analogy I mentioned earlier, stop taking it in for checkups. Drive it when the check engine light is on. No gas, no oil, no maintenance. Keep driving it until the thing breaks. Because it will. People do this to avoid an actual confrontation, but this is the most hurtful and time-consuming breakup method of all. And really, it’s for pussies. Love her and yourself enough to be honest about your feelings. It’s okay to have regrets; just say them aloud to the person they affect the most. It’s okay to make mistakes. It’s why Amazon has such a generous return policy.

  On a personal note about breakups. I fought with every inch I had in order to hold on to something that wasn’t right and wasn’t sustaining. And in finally letting go, it opened up something I didn’t know I needed to have: a complete life. Remember the kettle fight? Who knew that I could have it all. Breakups make room for what you didn’t know you were missing. You learn to make do with a life that is not right for you. You imbue someone with false qualities, ones you wish they possessed, and then are angry at them for being who they are. She was always, still is, exactly who she was; I just never accepted that in her. I’m sorry, fictionally named Sarah.

  The Three-Point Plan for Breaking Up

  Okay, so here’s what you’re waiting for: the direct method of breakup. I warn you, it’s not easy. However, I can guarantee that it will only be extremely uncomfortable for a short period of time, versus perpetually uncomfortable for an entire lifetime.

  It is a three-point plan. You may not need all three, but you should have them all sharpened and ready in your quiver, just in case. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with this person; without exception, break up face to face. No texting a breakup, unless you want to be that “asshole texting guy” forever in her history. And, in person, you may get to get in one last, emotionally resonant fuck. The tear-soaked-sheet finale.

  I don’t always recommend this one-last-fuck method, because it can be tricky. She may have a different agenda (the reel-you-back agenda) than you, but it is very difficult to walk away from. It naturally has sexy gravitas all over it because it’s the last of something. So every kiss and thrust can be memorized and made into something poetic. It will be emotional for both of you, so don’t confuse that feeling of fleeting connection with falling in love again. You’ve ached over this conversation much longer than it takes you to come as the result of it. It feels extra amazing because it is over, not because it is beginning. My recommendation is to do it only if you make sure it really is the last time. Don’t bargain with your penis; he is a CIA agent. He will say and do anything to gain access. Once he’s inside, he takes what he wants, gets out, and then detonates the area. If you don’t want to blow up the person you once loved, be careful with this emission impossible.

  The Tactical Breakup

  POINT ONE: “I care about you too much to keep doing this dance.”

  This puts her needs first, or at least it sounds that way. It reminds her that you do care about her, even though you’ve gone as far as you can with her emotionally. Don’t forget that as soon as this conversation is over, you won’t need to do the untangling of her emotions with her. You will drive somewhere and drink beer with a friend who won’t make you process your emotions. But right now, your job is to be emotionally clear and present and responsible. Soon it will be over. Soon there will be hot wings.

  But, for now, all you have to do is lay out your interior thoughts in a kind and respectful manner. You are speaking your emotions out loud, not making her guess or project how you feel by how distant you’ve been. Say it with words, even though you know they will hurt her. Then the hand-off of information becomes hers to deal with. You can’t change your feelings; you’ve done all you can by communicating them. Her friends will now think you’ve finally manned up and been responsible to your fe
elings. Real truth is the universal get-out-of-jail-free card.

  POINT TWO: “This relationship isn’t right for me, and that’s never going to change.”

  These are two important thoughts joined together in one sentence. Repeat them as necessary. Over and over if she needs that. You can also say the same thing using different words, as this is a big concept for her to grasp if she’s still into you. So say this seventeen times, in whatever ways you can come up with. Say it decisively with no wiggle room. Adding phrases like “I don’t think I can do this anymore . . .” provides loopholes. She only hears that there’s a chance to make this work. “I can’t do this anymore” is a very different revelation. Add the last part declaratively and decisively: “And that’s never going to change.” That means that you’ve really weighed this and thought it through. It’s fairly inarguable, even if she prefers it weren’t true.

  Maybe you want to soften the blow. Maybe you’re a big baby and say something like “I need a break.” Or “This relationship needs a break.” Very rarely does a break from a relationship turn into anything but a breakup. More often, these demi-steps just provide a purgatory, with neither of you healing or moving forward, because you’re still hoping that you can fix things. Or it can also be a true dissonance of communication where he hears “taking a break” as a breakup, and she hears it as simply “taking a break.” This can lead to further screaming and arguments and hurt feelings, so trust me when I say, do it clean. Clarity is best. Stick to the script. Know that it’s selfish to hold her emotionally hostage by giving yourself a little wiggle room in case you might want her back at some point in the future. Have the courage of your convictions. If it’s over, it’s over.

  Only use Point Three if she just can’t fucking grasp what it is you’re saying directly in Point Two. Point Three is hurtful and difficult, but also sometimes very necessary. It is the nuclear bomb of breakup war. Only use number three if there are no other options left, and the previous two points have failed.

  POINT THREE: “I’m not in love with you, and I never will be.”

  Fucking ouch. But very clarifying for the woman on the receiving end. When someone is done with someone, they are generally truly done. It takes two desiring people to have a relationship; anything less is not going to work. Your driver’s ed teacher said it a million times: “Ambivalence kills.” He was right. Ambivalence kills every emotion, but most especially love. So be selfish and state your true scary feelings, because you once loved this woman. She deserves the clarity of your conviction. In the end, your selfishness is actually selfless.

  What to Do If She Breaks Up with You

  Oh, wait. What if the unthinkable, unspeakable happens, and your woman actually breaks up with you? She’s over you. She’s had enough of your monosyllabic, monoemotional grunts that take her for granted. She’s had enough of your sly booger picking and unabashed testicle adjusting. There’s got to be someone better than you out there for her. But how can this be? You’re great. Adorable, even. You’re just so misunderstood. You have so many big feelings about her. Feelings that you may not have actually said aloud or shown her in any discernible way, but she should’ve intuited that you possess them.

  Okay, so now she’s dumped you. How do you get her back? That depends on a few things. No relationship between two people is ever really over unless someone is in some way abusive or there’s a third party. So, if both of you are free of these, the potential exists for you to get back together. Maybe her breaking up with you was just the nudge you needed in order to clarify your feelings about her. So, there are a couple of things you can do here. Either be eternally wounded that she has broken up with you and never speak to her again. Or, go to her and share all of your feelings with her.

  I have known so many guys who wind up marrying the woman who came directly after their first real heartbreak. They always regret not having opened up to the woman who harmed them. Their current relationship lives in the shadow of what might have been with the previous woman. I think this heartbreak is what shows men the capacity for how much they can actually feel. Only in the woman’s absence do they feel her value. Their wound winds up being instructive. It teaches them what loss feels like, so they can go out into the world and find fulfillment. In this way, heartbreak is helpful. Don’t forget that the heart is actually a muscle, and it gets stronger with more exercise.

  So, if you’re really into this woman and she’s gotten rid of you—go to her and share your feelings. What’s the downside? You look like an asshole? So what? Regrets only come from not having done something. Tell her what you haven’t ever shared. Tell her what makes you scared. Tell her exactly what you’re willing to change if she gives you another chance. And then actually, actively do it. Don’t be full of shit here. If you get complacent, or lazy or internal or lurch along in life, the same thing will happen again. And maybe not even with this woman.

  Perhaps you took this lesson of thwarted love and went onto the next with a “fuck her” attitude. And you didn’t learn a damn thing from it. Your personality does again what it has always done. Your new woman will tire of it, too. Maybe she’ll endure it for a longer period of time, but unless you evolve, you will face the same situation again and again until you shift something inside yourself. You can look all over the globe for the perfect woman, but big, huge bulletin here: you have to drag yourself along on this quest. You are you. You are going to make the same mistakes, pick the same kind of person, unless something in you clicks forward. You may find a new person who is less troubled by your lack of communication, and maybe that relationship will last a lifetime. But unless you can grow at least a little, you’ll be broken, if not broken up with.

  Chapter 10

  For Women Only

  Insights from an Insider

  “Everything’s great now. He understands he can man-handle his private parts, but he has to woman-handle mine.”

  Wow, you people have been very patiently waiting your turn. And I know you usually put your needs second in lots of situations, so you may be used to it. Maybe your boyfriend/husband/baby-daddy bought this book; well, good for him. Even better for you. Or, maybe you bought it for him with the promise to read it to him aloud while naked. Not that he has been listening if you are naked. You have learned in these chapters that he’s barely listening at all. Or, maybe you bought this book for you—not because you want to know how to fuck a woman, but because you want to know that someone out there can understand you, even if it’s not the person you’re in a relationship with. Someone knows how to crack your code. Whatever the reason, I know the whole book is about women, but I wanted to address a chapter to you directly.

  See, the penis is like a blind man’s skin cane, moving forward in pursuit of the same cozy, warm opening it experienced when first entering the world. But actually we’re all in pursuit of the same thing. Women seek primal arms to hold them. Men search for primal walls to contain them. You just need more information in order to get what you both want.

  The hardest thing about being attracted to my own gender is that I have to play by the same rules that I hand out. And, as much as I know that my opinions are accurate, that doesn’t mean I can always implement them myself, because I am also a woman. Sometimes I disregard my own advice because my own girl emotions force me to supersede it.

  How to Find Balance in Your Relationship

  I distribute reels of advice to my friends:

  Don’t ask too many questions. I know, you want to be asked about stuff! Men don’t! They want to be left to their own thoughts!

  Don’t take it all so personally, he’s probably not even thinking about you.

  His silence is reparative; don’t project just because your silence is punitive. He’s not thinking about you—or if he is, he doesn’t want to talk about it because his bad feelings will evaporate if you don’t try to dig into his brain. So just avoid it and lie low.

  Compliment him, or better yet, blow him.

  Don’t pout when h
e doesn’t want to French kiss you. That’s for birthdays and anniversaries, or when you’re both a little drunk and can pretend to be kissing somebody else.

  If he’s at home, don’t bug him about work, don’t nag him about stuff he hasn’t accomplished, don’t compare him; just accept him as less complicated.

  And stop processing and taking personally what he doesn’t say.

  Ahh, all so true. My friends nod when hearing this type of spot-on advice. “Ah, God, you’re so right about me. That is what I do. Sometimes, I make it so much worse. I’ll apply this ointment to my own inflamed personality immediately.” But they don’t, because they can’t. And that creates a balance in male-female relationships. He resents you for feeling so much, but he loves you because you feel so much, which, in turn, forces him to feel. Even if that feeling is “annoyed.”

  All of my extremely good advice is totally lost on me, though. When I am in a daze of hurt feelings or hormonal blasts, I can’t think straight. I can’t be reasoned with, even if I’m the one who ordinarily provides the reasoning. I make the same mistakes that I just warned my friends against making. And even worse, in a relationship of two women, we don’t trade sex for the emotional “out” of a confrontation. I hear this from my straight friends all the time; sex becomes a form of currency. “I’m scared for my husband to see the credit card bill! I spent way too much money on a purse. I’m going to have to blow him to get out of trouble.”

  Wait, what? Is this normal for you people? Or, “I accidentally left the house this morning with my boyfriend’s car keys in my purse, so I’m going to have to fuck him tonight.” Huh? Two women in a relationship together simply don’t engage in this type of sexual barter. Though I most certainly respect it and decidedly long for it, it just doesn’t exist as an option. I wish to God it did. It would be so much simpler to just fuck away the bad feelings, versus having to endure a bleary-eyed marathon.