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EST. May 2000 (AD)




By Trudy Jerome

Are you tired of striving for the love that you want, rather than surrendering yourself to the slavish devotion that he wants? Does that pesky self-esteem keep popping up like a pustule on prom night? Well, what better time than spring to plant the seeds for perennial connubial bliss? Here's a 10-day plan to weed out the vestiges of your dignity. Fear not: you, too, can be that self-effacing slip that every man wants to know and own!

Day 1: Ask yourself the following 3 simple yet quintessential philosophical questions:

1. Who is the centre of my universe?*

(a) I am, and in being my own centre I am free to guide others in their journey toward self-discovery

(b) Pre-menstrually speaking, anything edible that is not nailed down

(c) He is

2. Why do I exist?*

(a) To fulfill the promise that is uniquely me

(b) Because 2 people called mom and dad couldn't control themselves

(c) For him

3. What is true love?*

(a) Taking a jilted friend's call at 3 a.m. every night for a week

(b) Buying the first round

(c) Dedicating myself wholly to the lifelong satisfaction of his every want and need

* When in doubt, choose "c".

Day 2: Repeat the following mantra: "It's all about him." This is your deep thought. Your daily affirmation. Your love-it-or-lose-him bottom line.

Day 3: Go for a complete overhaul-face, body, hair, make-up, the works. You cannot possibly be pretty enough, skinny enough, young enough or hip enough. Who cares if you're scintillating, scrupulous, and self-possessed? He wants the packaging, not the contents. And what he wants, you want.

Day 4: Place mantra-filled post-it notes in strategic locales-on the phone (to guide your conversations with or about him); by the door (as part of your final "check" before going to stalk...oops! I mean "see" him); and in your make-up bag (good for about 20 reminders per day).

Day 5: Whenever he asks you something about you, coyly deflect the inquiry.

Example: Q: So, why is it that you find me so ruggedly handsome?

A: Oh, enough about me. You are so big...I mean...really BIG.

Day 6: Bake mantra-iced cookies. Eat entire batch standing up. This is work. This is not fun. And calories do not count when consumed while in a vertical position.

Day 7: Master the art of self-denial. No more cultivating friendships, which only detract from your time with (or obsessing over) him. No more eating after 2 p.m. (Only cows wear more than a size 2.) No more devising brilliant proposals at work that could lead to a promotion, that would lead to more money, that could mean that you'll earn more money than he does, which would surely buy you a one-way ticket to singledom.

Self-actualization is so yesterday.

Day 8: Write your mantra in indelible ink backwards on your forehead. Stare at yourself in the mirror 6 times per day, 4 hours at a time.

(Remember that time you ate nothing but grapefruits for 10 days straight? This is so much easier.)

Day 9: Offer to come over and clean up after card night with the boys. Better yet, insist on driving the drunken lot to the peeler show. Pay their cover charge. Find that scrap of paper with the phone number for the "friend" he ran into at the bar on Friday night. There's nothing you can't (or won't) do for him.

Day 10: Have your mantra tattooed on the inside wrist of your dominant hand. Glance down at it after slapping yourself silly every time you hear yourself say "I" in any conversation with him.

Congratulations! You are totally unrecognizable to yourself or to anyone else who knew you B.H. ("Before Him"). In fact, you aren't even there. Go ahead and celebrate with a great big wedge of humble pie. (You deserve it. And, it's calorie-free-- I swear.) Didn't I tell you this stuff works?

© Trudy Jerome, 2003


Trudy Jerome is a writer based in Toronto, Canada. Her more waggish work has appeared in various national business law publications. You can contact her at: trudyjerome@yahoo.ca


DISCLAIMER: This is a parody of women's magazines so don't come crying to us if you starved to death on one of our diets or you took out your liver by mistake. Unless otherwise noted all material © 2000 - 2018 Sharon Grehan-Howes ( aka Sharon Jeffcock ) Happy Woman Magazine All Rights Reserved