There is a deep-rooted problem with women who refer to men as a “provider.” They love the word but completely distort its meaning. To them, a provider isn’t a partner, it’s a servant. A full-time, around-the-clock ATM with emotional support on tap, attention on demand, and no room to breathe.
She wants you grinding 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, not to build a life together, but to fund her fantasy. And GOD forbid you focus on anything other than her. She expects you to be at her disposal no matter what you’re doing or what you’re dealing with.
1. If she’s not excited, you’re responsible for providing her with non-stop entertainment like a human amusement park.
2. If she’s unhappy, it’s your fault. You failed to deliver happiness on a silver platter, like a jester groveling before royalty.
3. Try telling her that happiness comes from within, and she’ll glare at you like you just told her she’s responsible for her own life. The horror.
4. If you’re not reaching her sky-high delusional goals fast enough, resentment sets in. Slowly. Quietly. She’ll begin to destroy what you love, not to hurt you directly, but to remind you that your joy can’t be allowed to outshine her.
I’ve seen this play out. Women destroying cars, businesses, reputations, even weaponizing the children, just to punish a man who failed to give them what no one on earth could promise: endless validation and joy.
One girl told me straight out that she hated her boyfriend so much she planned to destroy what he loved most. When I asked what that was, she looked me dead in the eye and said, “Me.” That’s how deep the spite runs. She was ready to ruin herself just to ruin him. I couldn’t even process what that entailed.
Another woman complained her marriage had no excitement, said it was ruining her life. I told her to find a hobby, a purpose, something to fulfill her. She snapped back, “That’s his job!” Like her soul was on lease and her husband was late on payments.
She ended up cheating with the man who brought her “excitement.” Her husband caught them. Now she’s divorced, and that second man vanished like smoke. Where’s the excitement now?
These types never initiate anything. They expect the world to move on its own if it’s “meant to be.” They cling to that phrase like gospel because it absolves them of action, effort, and accountability.
And when they destroy a man’s life? Don’t expect other women to call it out. Another woman will step in and say it’s the man’s fault for not stopping her. They move as a collective, defending dysfunction, never holding each other accountable.
It’s not love they want. It’s a life of royalty, funded, entertained, and shielded from responsibility. And when the illusion breaks, they burn everything on their way out.
