Sex

Is there a place for a woman in Manspace?

In March, I went on what I swore would be “the last of these God-awful dates”, and I happened upon that one in a million...

Having had two years of mind-blowing, book-worthy disasters in the colourful world of internet dating, I thought my chances of meeting Mr Right online were about as likely as miraculously waking up to find my "barely a B cup" had soared to a D in my sleep. However, while my cup size hasn't changed, my love life is looking up. In March, I went on what I swore would be "the last of these God-awful dates", and I happened upon that one in a million; the guy that on the first date you are already thinking about the tenth. Nearly six blissful months on and we are about to take that next big step - moving in together. Upon discussing the pending relocation, I was to learn that there is one rule that comes into play when I make the move: "Don't destroy the Manspace." It turns out you can do anything you want with the rest of the house but the Manspace is sacred. So, what exactly is the Manspace, I hear you ask? The Manspace phenomenon spans from the edge of the couch to the wall and encompasses the man-sized TV and the DVD shelf. The DVD collection that graces the Manspace is a testosterone-filled library of manhood that under no circumstances should be tarnished with such classics as The Notebook or Beaches - oh no friends, there is no place for Bette Midler in the Manspace. While my mind raced with deep and meaningful questions about our newly shacked up situation, my beloved had but two questions to ask of me… Firstly, where would I be storing my "jam rags" - which, for those who have yet to discover that eloquent phrase, is a bloke's term for tampons. Yes, you read correctly - my guy calls them "jam rags". In fact, when I think about it, he actually takes great joy in making me blush as he loudly discusses the pros and cons of sanitary napkins vs applicator tampons in the supermarket aisle. His second question, and clearly something he had given great thought to, was where would I be storing my vibrator? Well, actually these days we call it my "remote control" after a rather embarrassing moment a few weeks back. He had been away on a field exercise and I had been left to (ahem) my own devices.
I had been so excited that he was on his way over that I had neglected to make my bed. He sat down and almost immediately put his hand on the offending contraption. "Darling, is that your remote control? Hang on, that's much too round to be a remote control…" At this point my cheeks were beetroot and the game was up: "Yes, dearest, I am indeed a 30-something woman who on occasion lets the batteries do the work." We decided it would go in the drawer on my side of the bed along with the spare batteries that he bought for me (see, I told you he was Mr Right). My bags are packed and I am full of anticipation as I embark on this fun-filled adventure with my sexy younger man… but there is a slight heavy feeling in my heart as I realise that my prized Pride and Prejudice is about to be banished to the spare room. Maybe I will sneak a cheeky copy of Love Actually in between Under Siege I and II… surely he won't notice? So tell me friends, does your man have his very own Manspace? Does he find boyish entertainment in drawing attention to your tampon or lubricant purchases? What parts of your girly world are you prepared to sacrifice for love?