Women: Demons or Angels?

A deaf mans look at women: demons or angels.

Having been profoundly deaf since my late teens, here is a short story on my take on Women: Demons or Angels? It always amazes me that in this day and age, men still appear to have outmoded views on women and what they are capable of.I have often wondered about this and whether there is any truth about it and if so, why so?This embraces all cultures and some more so than others. It has it’s origins almost since time began, but I do believe that we have evolved since then.Throughout History many diverse cultures have had women Queens for example, yet the mantra still persists that somehow men are far superior than our fairer, more kindly counterparts. Recently we have witnessed this yet again in the American elections.

Why is it that men have such a low esteem of women?

Is this true?

I’m going to look into my own personal life from now on, as if truth be told. I always had a very low opinion of women, almost bordering on misogynism. It took my wife to tell me;”Kevin,I often wonder why you dislike women so much, because if you think about your life, then women have been the best to you”. Apart from my college mates, who were in a class of their own, I thought about what she said and she was quite right.

I then wondered why I thought like that but it has it’s beginnings in what happened to me and what I saw when I was in my formative years. By this I mean when I first began to notice and take an interest in women outside of my previous experiences of being a child. I would enjoy telling you about this but many will not like it. Be that as it may, it’s what happened and how I saw things, sometimes from the other side and having undergone some major changes in my life at a vulnerable age. I have no regrets except to say I wasted a life time with outmoded views and now when it’s too late to fix anything, I’ve seen the error of my ways. Perhaps better late than never hey!At about 16 years of age, ( believe it or not I was considered as charismatic ) and I was at a New Years party and I had a mate who had polio in his left arm and then one day playing polo-cross, he had an accident and lost the sight of one eye .Just after 12, I went outside for some fresh air and bumped into him crying.We chatted and he told me how he wished he could have a girlfriend but no one was interested in him. I told him truthfully, that I didn’t think he should put to much into it, as at that age ,they are shallow and only interested in good sportsmen and good looking guys and that they grow up and then start looking at what a guys like, more than the other things.Perhaps that encounter was the beginning of my attitude because I thought of him often .One day at school my women music teacher stopped me and told me that I was the saddest boy she had ever known.

Two years later lying in Hospital, I was to receive fruit baskets from the boys and staff of all the houses in the school I went to. This flummoxed me as I had had a very checkered school career, more often being in trouble than not. I also got a card from my music teacher which I have never forgotten. I can still remember the words she wrote today.

The card she sent depicted, mares and their foals in a beautiful green pasture. The words she wrote were;
‘Dear Kevin ,I have just heard that you have been left deaf following something in the army and I’m left horrified by this and so I could not address this letter to you as Spook. I also feel that the army have treated you abominably etc.etc.I chose this card because it reminded me of you, especially you the cricket player‘.

Years later I was to make enormous headway out of this card, more often than not when my mates were teasing me about being a poor cricketer. I would then relate this story to them, putting heavy emphasis on how beautiful I must have been to watch; just like all these mares and foals frolicking around in this green field. Poetry in motion and all.

It drove them nuts as they didn’t know how to retaliate.What I’m leading up to is that she didn’t have to do any of this. I wasn’t a member of her family or a close friend .She did it because she is like most women, kind and caring.

I wrote to her for years after coming out of Hospital, mostly whenever I was feeling down. She told me many things amongst them, that I had been naughty at school, but never bad. I just did boyish things and I got caught doing them.

But what she was best at, was telling me not to worry about women to much and those treating me like that, weren’t worth knowing anyway and she was dead right. I often wonder what happened to her as I lost track. As people; we are all over the world now, due to that lunatic Mugabe.

Other Influences.

Nobody cares, actually, somebody does.

Then of course there was my lip-reading teacher and the Community Sister in charge of my rehabilitation, women naturally and all who gave me of there time and helped me whenever I was down, which was often enough.When I had my implant of course it was done by a male surgeon, but everybody else was female, all the rehabilitators and nursing staff and first class they all were to.My wife once asked me if when I could hear,would I have gone out with a deaf girl? I was about to reply, it depends what she looks like but managed to reply; probably not, which is a very sad indictment; happy to say that I went out with plenty of women once I was better and learnt to lip-read.Having said that I also know plenty of women who have married people in wheelchairs and those with lost limbs etc. A lot of stunners they were too.

Meeting the Wife.

How it came about.

I met my wife when her dad was doing a sheep course, run by one of the farmers who lived near me. They got friendly and at the end of the course were having a few jars. Now you might not beleive this, but it’s what happened. Anyway my future wife was there and started nagging her dad and in exasperation, he turned to her and said, “what you need is someone who is 6 foot tall and deaf”.The farmer heard this and replied, “I know someone like that”. He arranged for them to come and have lunch with him on Sunday and then he invited me. Well one thing led to another, but her dad was right. Sorry, couldn’t resist it.Apart from everything else, women do a lot more. They look after the children ,they wash ,they cook, they iron, they do the housekeeping, they sew,they knit, they crochet and of course they nag, who wouldn’t? They also get a lot of headaches!Here in Ireland on the dairy farm where I was working, it was mating season. Generally we would stick in a teaser bull to help us spot whichever cow’s were going into oestrus, so we could then AI them. At this time they were being housed as it is too cold to leave them out overnight and they are left in a narrow causeway with bedding on either side.Now I had been watching this cow all day, with the teaser bull hassling her all day, running and chasing her endlessly and she is not ready at this time. Finishing milking in the evening I took another check and this was still going on and I also knew it would go on all night.

I felt so sorry for the cow and then realised that, maybe this is what it’s like for real women as well. I couldn’t think of anything worse especially when there, (mens) attention is not wanted. I’m suprised it took me so long to realise this. Anyway when I got home that night I said to my wife; “I finally know why you women get so many headaches.”

Well, women: demons or Angels?

I’m going to opt for Angels unreservedly, but go on and have your say and all welcome.

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