The son gifted 50 thousand for the anniversary.

And the daughter-in-law burst into tears: 'We are living modestly, and you give such money to your mother!' Men after fifty are cunning. Not shamelessly, not out of malice. They are cunning with themselves. And then they sincerely broadcast this to the world. About the "housewifely and understanding" woman they want to see beside them. I understood this when I started dating Williams. My comment. I know this story from an acquaintance who loved to boast about how things turned out. But don’t rush to conclusions; read to the end. The ending of the story turned out to be quite curious. It is told from the perspective of an acquaintance. He was 53. A successful entrepreneur, reserved, ironic, with a touch of grey at the temples. Which made him look like a hero from European cinema. Divorced, with adult children living separately.

After several unsuccessful dates with men who were looking for either a mother or a silent listener in me, Williams seemed like a breath of fresh air. With him, I could talk about everything. But on the third date, he uttered that very filter phrase. — You know the phrase. — know, I'm so tired of all these dramas, of strong and independent women, — he said, looking at me with his piercing gaze. — As you get older, you understand that all you want is silence.

You want to come home and smell the pies. You want to have a simple, understanding woman next to you. Someone who won't argue, but will hug you. He said this, and I felt an invisible curtain fall between us. I mentally checked off the box for 'incompatibility.' I'm 48, and I lead a department at a marketing agency. My home smells not of pies but of coffee beans and perfume. And the last thing I would do if I thought a man was wrong is to hug him silently. I was sure that our meetings would come to an end. I didn't fit his description. Not at all. But to my astonishment, he kept calling. And I, intrigued by this contradiction, continued to agree to meetings. I decided to see what would happen if I didn't pretend and stayed true to myself, "not the homemaker", "non-household", and "non-understanding."

 Incompatibility #1:

 "Householdness." One Saturday, he called and said, "Maybe I'll drop by in the evening?" I want some home comfort. I understood that it was a hint for a home-cooked dinner. I imagined myself by the stove, in an apron, and I felt nauseous. That day, I had a deadline for two projects, and I barely had time to take a shower. When he arrived, I greeted him in jeans and holding two boxes. - Hi! I thought that spending the evening cooking was a crime. So I ordered the best pizza in town. I hope you don't mind. He froze for a second. I saw disappointment flicker in his eyes. He expected borscht and cutlets, but got a cardboard box instead. But then he looked at me - energetic, pleased with my decision - and his expression changed. Curiosity appeared in his gaze. - Pizza? - he asked again. - You are a dangerous woman. We spent the entire evening sitting on the floor, eating pizza straight from the box, and debating which director is better - Nolan or Villeneuve. He left late at night, and I saw that he was not disappointed. He was intrigued. He didn't get a 'housewife', but he had an enjoyable evening.

 Incompatibility #2:

 'Understanding' A week later, he had a conflict with a major client. He called me, his voice tense and angry. - The client doesn't understand anything about the order. He wants to 'add touches' to the website, meaning 'everything is fine, but it needs to be revised'. I knew that an 'understanding' woman should have said at that moment: 'Darling, you are certainly right. He is just (untranslatable pun), ignore it.' But I said something else. - Williams, wait. You showed me the website project. Are you sure that your solution is the only correct one? Maybe the client wants to feel important? Perhaps there's a way to make it look stylish, and he ends up satisfied? There was silence on the other end of the line. - So you're on his side now? - he asked in a cold tone. - I'm not on his side. I'm on the side of your project and your nerves. Sometimes you have to. Sometimes you need to be flexible. He grumbled something and hung up. I was sure that it was the end. But the next morning, he sent a message: "You were right. I found a compromise. Thank you. You make my brain work." He did not get blind "understanding." He got a partner who made him look at the problem from a different angle. He got an equal.

 Incompatibility #3:

"Availability," Williams was used to women always being happy to receive his call and ready to drop everything for a meeting with him. But I had my own life. I had my job, my friends, and my English lessons twice a week. - Let's have dinner on Wednesday? - he suggested one time. - I can't, I have classes, - I replied. - Cancel it, - he said. - I won’t cancel, - I replied just as simply. - That’s my time. But I'm free on Thursday. He was puzzled. He was used to being the center of the universe for a woman. And I showed him that he was an important, but not the only, planet in my galaxy. He had to adjust. He had to earn my time. And it turned out that this excited him much more than the woman sitting by the phone, waiting for his call. The resolution came three months later. We were sitting in his car outside my house. "I don’t understand," he said, staring straight ahead. "You are the complete opposite of what I was looking for. You don’t cook, you argue with me, you always have your things going on. You’re not right for me. Not at all."I know," I replied calmly, my heart sinking. "Maybe we’d be better off..." But why," he interrupted, turning to me, and I saw in his eyes absolute confusion, "why do I not want to let you go?" And then he told me about his first marriage. His ex-wife was perfect. The very definition of "homely and understanding." She completely dissolved into him. She anticipated his desires, never argued, and her world revolved around him. "And after ten years, I realized that I was dying of boredom," he confessed. "I would come home, and there was silence. There were no arguments, no laughter, no life.

Talked to a shadow. When we divorced, I decided that the problem was not with her, but with me. I convinced myself that I did not appreciate my happiness. And I decided to find something similar. A quiet harbor. He looked at me. - And then you appeared. Not a harbor, but an entire ocean. With storms, with currents. And for the first time in many years, I felt alive. I was verbally searching for a woman who would look into my mouth. But in reality, I was drawn to the one who looks in the same direction as me, but is not afraid to say that I'm going the wrong way. And I understood. A 50-year-old man who dreams of a 'domestic and understanding' woman is looking for not a servant or a shoulder to cry on. He is looking for a partner. He wants to see beside him not a reflection but a full-fledged personality. He wants not to comfort but life. He wants a woman for whom one must become better, not one with whom one can relax and degrade. He fears admitting this to himself. Because it requires strength, and he thinks he is tired. But in reality, he is just bored. This was a story and opinion of an acquaintance. My comment. A frame from the series 'Feud'. She lived with Williams for 2 years. But what happened next?  The man got tired of the 'incompatibility.' Arguments began, saying, 'You always argue with me, just agree.' And in the end, they broke up. Now the acquaintance thinks that after 50, a man in a relationship wants to have agreement on everything.