Naomi B. (tripleguess) reviewed on 4/10/2012 + 48 more book reviews

I read this book a few weeks ago, so the details are a little fuzzy, but I've had time to think about some of its premises. (Btw, I disagree with her definition of the b-word. Completely. That aside...)

I appreciated knowing about the "holding pattern" men try to put women into -- sadly, they do this to women they are not interested in marrying and only want to keep around as a teddy bear. I can't agree more with the solution: get out!

I appreciated hearing -- finally -- that men do not per se find sluttiness exciting or special; on the contrary, the author says, the more a guy thinks you've "been around," the less special he feels about "jumping into the pool (with everyone else)." I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who will argue with that one, sexual liberation, choices, experience, excitement, blah blah blah. I always thought dressing provocatively showed a certain desperation and low self-esteem, and it's interesting that at least some men think so too.

On the other hand, I find her suggestions for handling male manipulation ludicrous -- not because they probably wouldn't work, but because I don't think anyone should EVER put up with manipulation! If a guy I was interested in wanted to tell me all about the (probably non-existant) secretary at work who was dying to climb into his lap, he'd soon find himself talking to the wall. I'm not stooping to the same level; I wouldn't make up an equally imaginary bodybuilder who wanted to take me to Europe. (Puh-lease.) If he's not secure and competent enough within himself to "research" how much I care about him without beating me up emotionally, I don't want him. I'm very good at messing with my own head, thank you very much. No one else gets to do it.

Also her suggestions for not caring about a guy you've slept with -- hello -- from my conservative background, and from my chosen beliefs and lifestyle, I can only say STUPID. Don't sleep with a guy til he's proven he cares -- with a wedding band. Anything less than that is hot air.

In the end, the book made me sad. If you have to become the kind of tough-as-nails woman who doesn't "need" a man in order to "get" one, what's the point of being a woman? Not that a woman should ever compromise herself for the sake of "a relationship," but is it really necessary to be so self-absorbed that (realistically speaking) you have no room for someone else in your life? Can't a teensy bit of vulnerability survive...?

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