Listen for the Lie

by Amy Tintera

A podcaster has decided to ruin my life, so I’m buying a chicken.

Let this be a lesson to all the men out there who can’t handle conflict—man up and dump your girlfriend, or you might end up living with a suspected murderer indefinitely.

(A nicer person would just say, “Hey, you heard about the podcast, didn’t you?” and put him out of his misery. I should try to be less of an asshole. Tomorrow, maybe.)

“It’s a small favor, really, and I’d like to remind you that I’m nearly dead.” “You’ve been saying you’re nearly dead for twenty years.” “Well, then it stands to reason that I must really be getting close then!” She cackles.

Men are such babies. They’re too scared to actually break up with you, so they just get mean or fade away until you get mad and dump them.

They’re usually some version of “How do you live with yourself, you heartless bitch?” or “You’re going to hell,” except almost always with the wrong your, which is extremely distracting. An insult doesn’t have the intended impact when spelled incorrectly.

I guess it’s mostly women who do it. But sometimes you meet a girl who is just, like, your soulmate. Not in a romantic way, but in a friend way. Which can almost be more intense. You could tell that Savvy and Lucy were in one of those intense friend-soulmate relationships.

I’ve heard that Lucy has a temper. Did you ever see that? Nina: I mean … I don’t know. Would people say she had a temper if she was a man? They’d say she stood up for herself when it was needed. So that’s what I’m going with. Lucy wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself.

Matt’s right about everything, though. Just ask him.

Everyone else is staring at him, so I stroll over to stand beside him. Usually everyone is staring at me. Us being next to each other makes it easier for them.

“I should have controlled my temper,” I said softly. I should have just cried. Taken the hits and crawled away to show my scars. I should have been a better victim. The truth doesn’t matter if you fight back.

“Oh shit.” Ben’s voice sounds far away, but when I sway, I hit him instead of the ground. He slows my fall but we both still end up in the dirt. I don’t think he’s caught very many swooning ladies. He’s not very good at it.

“The world seemed so dangerous for women back then,” she says. “We’re sitting here with a man who investigates women’s murders, so I wouldn’t say it’s safe now.”

Men don’t protect us, not really. They only protect themselves, or each other. The only thing men ever protected me from was happiness.”

And people hate that quality in a young woman, don’t they? They don’t know what to do with a girl who isn’t looking for their approval. They feel like they have to bring her down a peg.

Some men, they’ve got to put on a show when they’re around women. It’s like they don’t actually know how to talk to us, so they choose over-the-top chivalry. “If I pull out her chair and make a big show of talking about how moms are heroes and women are actually the strong ones, they won’t notice that I don’t have any interest in listening to a single word that comes out of their mouths.”

In the end, life is just sweatpants and children who resent you and all your choices. But no one wants to hear that.

“Better to be interesting than likable, in my opinion.”

Out of curiosity, do you want me to cut it because it’s not true, or because it is? I stare at the question for a long time before typing a response. The truth doesn’t matter.

People don’t believe women who fight back. When a man lashes out, people say he’s lost control of his temper or made a terrible mistake. When a woman does it, she’s a psychopath.

Beverly: They sure didn’t. If they had, I would have screamed it to the whole town. How do you believe that man over your child? How did Matt believe Emmett over his own wife? Ben: It does seem strange. Beverly: Well, not strange, exactly. Typical. Men always believe each other.

I could explain all day and these people will never believe me. Most of us don’t change our minds once we’ve settled on a version of events. Everyone has made their mind up about me, and it’s not changing, no matter what. Ben: Does that bother you? Lucy: Sort of. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, that everyone not think the absolute worst of me all the time. But I’m not all that concerned about it anymore. I am not responsible for the fake version of me you created in your head.

Listen for the Lie was inspired by an exasperating question: Do women secretly hate each other?