Archive | August, 2013

The Goose and The Gander

23 Aug

What’s good for the goose has stopped being good for the gander. In fact, what’s bad for the goose does not even come close to being good enough for the gander, especially when it comes to those oh-so-lovey-dovey things call relationships.

Being the “weaker vessel,” the goose exhibits her weakness.  She dares not show her strength. She is just a goose. She has to act like the virtuous and pristine goose that she is. Her utmost goal is to please the gander; there’s his ego to consider.  Like she has been taught in a finishing school somewhere, she has to feel used when, having relinquished their lip-smacking intercourse, fine boy gander tells her that he’s had it with her; that it’s probably best they parted ways in a civilized manner.

So what happens to fine girl goose afterwards? She starts feeling “used” by fine boy gander. She wails uncontrollably, stops eating, loses weight and sleep over fine boy gander. She stops living. Her friends are worried. They visit her. She confides in them, singing the gospel of “He used me! How could he?!” the whole time. “How?” her friends ask. “How can he sleep with me and say he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? He used me!” she replies.

Her friends tell her that she shouldn’t get all cried out over fine boy gander. They urge her to forget him and move on with her life. But the words “He used me” has been so etched in her consciousness that she begins to have the dignity of a used, useless rag.

“I gave myself to him! He slept with me and dumped me” becomes her mantra.

It’s a wonder that fine boy gander never felt used when he and goose embarked on that orgasmic journey to cloud nine. For him, it was fun while it lasted. So fine boy gander struts about, regaling his friends with every tiny, winy detail of the time he spent with his ex-goose. He enjoys every minute of the kissing-and-telling.

For the goose, it’s a case of “He used me!” Why? Because she is the goose, that’s why. Why ask why? She is useable. She is fungible. She has been programmed from birth to be user-friendly to the male species. She must never be loose. She must never lose her virtue. She must always remember what Mama Goose taught her. She must always wear the garment of  “Take home to mama.” She has to always feel ashamed when things happen. Because she is the female, right?

Whoever heard of a gander going over town, crying that his goose “used” him after they got jiggy with it? It is very common to hear a member of the geese folk say to goose, “He will use you and dump you,” making the goose feel that she is obligated to feel used after gander is done with her. Well, that’s to assume that the goose did all the giving, and got nothing in return from the gander. So when the relationship ends badly, she feels used. Then comes self-pity.

Self-pity helps no goose. It never has, and never will.

Some ganders were having lunch in a restaurant one day, and the issue of the “user and the used” came up. One drunken opened up, telling all present how his ex-goosefriend walked with her head bowed when she saw he and his buddies gisting at a street corner. One of buddies had the balls to whistle at her! Bereft of her dignity, the goose ran.

That’s the attitude of the goose. She ends up giving the gander a feel-good feeling. She makes him feel like the sun rises and sets in his eyes – even after an ugly breakup.

But the goose is not the weakling she’s been made to believe. She is not the insignificant other.  It’s high time that invisible chain around her neck, wrists and feet came off.  Where is it written in stone that the goose has to cower and hide in shame when the gander starts bragging about his hymenal conquests?

These things happen because the goose has given the gander too much power. She should get that power back. With head held high, confident and proud, she should say, “Hey, you didn’t use me; I used you, and I enjoyed every bit of it!”

What’s good for the goose should be good for the gander. And so shall it be, forever and a day.

The “Amen” is silent.

This article was first published in