Hat-tip to CappyCap; he found yet another example of feminist insanity and delusion in a recent post on XOJane. Yet again, we have a woman who mistakes “living on welfare” for “being an independent woman,” but the fun doesn’t end there! Join me as we journey through her memoir, and I point out each obvious mistake she’s made in her life, and yet refuses to acknowledge, leaving one with the conclusion that her life would be VERY easy to fix – if she weren’t batshit insane.
I was a single mom for 10 long years. During that decade I relied on welfare, housing assistance, and food stamps to help me support my daughter while I earned both bachelor’s and master’s degrees.
I was an independent woman working to achieve my goals…
We’ve already covered that; you were a dependent upon the state (ie: you were dependent upon me).
I wanted a traditional family more than anything in the world. I had invested a lot of time thinking about it,
Dreaming about it, maybe; actually working and planning towards it? I guess we’ll see.
I hoped that I would meet a smart, kind, dedicated young man at college who would fall passionately in love with both of us… I would stay home with our children while he worked his good job. Everything would be great.
So let me get this straight: you spent the sort of money needed to get a Masters, while collecting welfare that I paid for, with the long-term goal of getting laid finding a Good Man? Let’s forget the whole welfare thing for a minute: positions in Master’s Programs are limited, she’s taking up a spot which could have gone to somebody who was planning to make use of the investment society was putting into them.
I was sure I would meet the man of my dreams at University of Washington.
Not in Seattle; when most of the males look like this, husbands are few and far between.
I quickly found that most social workers are female…
Oh, you were getting a Master’s in Social Work? I rescind my earlier comment about taking up valuable slots. Seriously – how a career that boils down to being a glorified volunteer at your local Church require 8 years of education?
Even though I wanted to meet Mr. Right in grad school, I earned my master’s degree without going on one date.
How much does an account on LavaLife cost? $50? Perhaps instead of fantasizing, you should have developed a real strategy.
Baby Daddy was initially addicted to crack, and then meth. He was busy expanding his criminal history and making other babies not to take care of.
I’m sure you’re all expecting me to make a crack about this; but I don’t need to, you’re already thinking it.
Instead I’d like to point out that forgiveness is possible. We’ve all made mistakes in our life, major ones, even, and yet it’s possible for all of us to make up on lost time. Yes, Willingham screwed up by letting a degenerate get her pregnant – but I can only assume that a lot of screwed up history led to that mistake. A feminist school system, and abusive mother, an absentee father – she’s as much a victim of this whole thing as the rest of us.
I’ve known women who made mistakes in their past, and chose to correct them, becoming some of the most decent people I’ve known. Partner count is a good indicator, but at the end of the day it’s just a number, just a statistic; it’s possible for individuals to overcome.
For someone to overcome, however, they need their “Come to Jesus” moment, as my old Sergeant Major used to say: they need to wake up one day and say “No, this is stupid, I’m not going to repeat the mistakes of my past; they were mistakes, and I take ownership of them, but henceforth I’m becoming a different person in life.”
On the surface it may seem as if Willingham is doing this – certainly, she’s stopped sleeping with degenerates (or at least, so she claims…), but has she ever taken ownership of her mistakes? She finally recognizes her baby-daddy for what he is (no brownie points for realizing that a drug-addict is a low-life), but what about her own actions in choosing him? The evidence suggests that she views it as an error of data (I didn’t know then what I know now), rather than an error of morals (I chose him because he gave me the gina-tingles).
And she’s still pursuing the same pipe-dream.
Her description of A Good Man may have changed – from Badboy drug dealer to Badboy corporate overlord – but the innate emotions, her selfishness, her overweening egoism, are the same as they ever were.
She hasn’t taken ownership of her decisions, and she hasn’t repented; I guarantee she met plenty of
suckers great guys who would have fathered her bastard, but she only has eyes for that Perfect Alpha who’ll wash away her sins debt.
Even though I yearned for adult companionship, my daughter and I had a lot of fun together… Because we were so poor, it was easy to get full scholarships for her to participate in recreational activities.
You are not independent, you are dependent. Thanks for bringing a child into this world you
couldn’t afford chose not to afford by getting a regular job, but instead pursued the Alpha Male College Dream.
You’re not a saintly single mother if you’re living off of me to pursue your dreams, rather than busting your ass to make ends meet the way my mother did.
Two years after I got my master’s degree, when I was 33 years old, I was invited to go out to dinner by a hot single father from the preschool program where I worked.
I can’t even begin to tell you the level of anticipation I felt as I applied my makeup that evening. The idea that a handsome young man was driving to my apartment to pick me up was huge.
“Handsome YOUNG man”? Under what circumstances does a 33 year old woman refer to a guy as “young”? Can you smell what’s coming?
A little over a month later, on my way to work, I stopped at Target to buy a pregnancy test. My breasts had that tingly feeling and I felt…different.
Yup; so either this woman’s been celibate for the past ten years, but has ovaries that can bust through latex – or she’s been getting some of the ol’ in-and-out on the side, but waiting until she met a guy who “told me to order WHATEVER I WANTED [at the Outback Steakhouse]” before she let another “oops” happen.
At least the story has a happy ending:
And in case you are wondering, Dear Reader, I am happy to let you know I’ve been married for five-and-a-half years now to the father of my second child. We’ve been together since that first date, about six years ago.
My son is about to start kindergarten. I work full time and own my own house. Welfare is history. And I am pursuing my newest goal of becoming a successful freelance writer.
If only I could find a 33 year old single-mother with a useless degree who rationalizes her mistakes away… keeping my fingers crossed.