An MBA student & founder, Cherise, is on our platform & needs a sharp programmer interested in women's health and safety. She is looking for someone with basic full-stack experience to help get her app off the ground. She fundraises, you program kind of dynamic. Low commitment — paid compensation. DM or leave a comment if interested. Thanks.

Hi :) I am not entirely sure if I am doing this correctly because I have never used reddit before. I have written a little under half of an adult fantasy novel, and I am looking for feedback. I will take any and all feedback, but I am mostly looking for unbiased parties to tell me if I have an potential at all with this story/as a writer. Honestly I am mainly looking for peers/friends. I am happy to read your work in return (though I am mostly only familiar with fiction/fantasy work)! If you are interested, comment below or chat me (IDK how that works but I shall figure it out hehe).
Content warnings: So far the story is not spicy but I do intend to take it there. I am 22 and the characters are around 20 so I am looking for older readers, not minors. I wouldn't be comfortable discussing that sort of things with younger readers though you are still ofc welcome to read it! There is very minor violence but nothing too grim. There is also some LGBTQ+ rep so bigots stay away!
Disclaimer the first chapter is only one of the main characters, but I do have to say, once they meet there is some wonderful witty banter so I swear it gets more intriguing.
First chapter:
Chapter 1: Bearnas The innate driving force of human nature is vengeance. This was a certitude I had come to realize from a young age, and it was a concept I relied on as I got older. Vengeance was the primary motivator for my people. It was our currency. The way we managed to survive. I didn’t stop to consider the morality of this outlook. I didn’t like to contemplate the state of my existence. Found that to be a waste of time. I focused on the here-and-now. The mutable present. It was simply the way the world was, so I had to deal with it like a man should. This was an ideal my father had instilled in me since the time of my birth. I was the son of a victorious warrior. Osgar Nieva was a well-respected war lieutenant during the Great Slaughtering. He never let me forget that I had a legacy to uphold. I knew my father hated me. I figured his disappointment began from the moment I received my name. In Dolag, tradition dictates that the father names their son. Names were believed to be prophetic. Osgar had a strong name-befitting of a warrior. His name meant “divine spear.” My grandfather claimed he could sense that Osgar would be a brave warrior from the moment he was born. So he was prophesied to be graced by the luck of God in battles. Typically, women were only allowed to name the baby if it was a girl. I was the exception. The process of my birth brought my Mother to her deathbed. The doctor was certain that she wouldn’t recover. As she lovingly admired the newborn baby boy in her arms, her attention was drawn by a bird pecking gently on the window. Tears streamed out of her eyes as it took off soundlessly into the winter dawn. “Wren.” She’d muttered softly, still gazing peacefully out the window. The room of family members and midwives stood in puzzled silence. The world seemed to pause in wait for her next words. She turned her head back to meet Osgar’s eyes. “He shall be named Wren. He will be gentle. Beautiful. Free.” She reached down to caress her baby’s face. “And he will be loved.” Despite my Father’s protests, the council voted to accept the name. The wishes of the dying outweighed naming traditions. Only my Mother never died. Doctors considered her survival a miracle. She returned back to full health only a few months later. She and I have paid for her decision every day since. Osgar refused to call me Wren. Anyone who referred to me as such, other than my Mother, was punished accordingly. To the rest of the world, I became known as Bearnas Nieva. Bearnas was the name Osgar would have chosen for his son if he had been given the opportunity. Bearnas. Meaning bringer of victory. My father did everything in his power to ensure that I would fulfill this destiny, whether it was the result of prophetic nomenclature or resolute determination. The story of my name was all I could think about as I prepared for my sendoff. I was tightening my last bootstring when a small hand clapped me on the back with a force intended to knock me off balance. “The famed Bear Nieva preparing for his grand expedition. What luck I must possess to witness you in all your glory.” I was grateful for El’s arrival, despite the copious amount of sarcasm she brought with her. My sister's presence was probably the only thing that could pull me out of my thoughts right now. “Using mockery as a mechanism to cover up your total despair about my departure, I assume.” I tried to keep my tone light, but in truth it was myself I was worried about. El held the chief role in keeping me sane throughout the later part of my life. She was my only tether to my true self. I worried about how I would stay grounded on my Hunt without her there to tease my worries away. El flopped on my bed with feigned anguish. “Yes, whatever will I do without my idiot older brother around to hog all the scrambled eggs at breakfast. Oh, how I will miss the putrid scent you plague the house with after training all day. Your constant nagging about my lack of tidiness will be missed most ardently.” I swatted her gently with my leather gloves. “Speaking of, get your disgusting outdoor shoes out of my clean bed immediately.” I shooed her out of my room, and chased her towards the door, nearly colliding with my father as a result. “This isn’t befitting behavior for a man about to begin his First Hunt” Osgar admonished. “Elowen, go to the kitchen and help your Mother tidy up before we head to town.” El skirted around our father into the hallway. Safely out of his eyeline, she directed one last mocking tongue in my direction before slinking away. “Are you ready to go?” He raked his disapproving gaze over my gear, searching for any flaw he could call attention to. “Yes, sir.” I responded. I did feel ready. This was the moment I had been preparing for my whole life. My body was honed by years of workouts and my skills were unquestioned. I had graduated top of my class in my training group. I was certainly ready to leave the house, as I wanted nothing more than independence. Besides my Mother and sister, I had nothing keeping me here. Not anymore. So I grabbed my bag and walked out the door. When my family was all ready, we began the walk to the edge of town where the sendoff was taking place. There we would eat, drink, dance and say our goodbyes. I spent my time standing on the outskirts of the group, hoping my stern face would signal everyone to leave me alone. I didn’t have any desire to get my ego fluffed by a bunch of people who just wanted to get in the good graces of my Father. I just wanted to leave. The one person I actually wished had come to bid me farewell had decided not to show up, not that I could blame him. Eleven other men would be sent off at the same time as me. We were all being sent in different directions, but we were all given the same instruction: go kill a witch. That is exactly what I intended to do. Success rates had been much lower over the past few years. After the Great Slaughter fifty years prior, there were only so many witches left to kill. In fact a witch hadn’t been successfully hunted in around 4 years. Most hunters came back many months after their departure unable to track any down. The people of Dolag figured the warriors of the Great Slaughter had ushered the witches into near extinction. The only evidence we had that they weren’t entirely eradicated were the cases of the men who never returned. Every once in a while, there was a man who was assumed to have met his demise at the hands of one of the remaining witches. So the Hunts continued on. After a few hours of festivities, it was time for us to set off. I was ready to say my goodbyes. I knelt down so El could wrap her arms around my neck. Her hot tears dampened the fabric covering my shoulders. “Promise me you will come back,” she said. I squeezed her a little tighter. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a few months of the stench free, scrambled-egg-filled, only-child experience and then I will be right back to boss you around.” El released me from her grip in order to look me in the eyes. “I’m not kidding around Bear.” Her piercing gaze mirrored the intensity of her voice. “Promise me.” Even though I knew it wasn’t something I could realistically guarantee, I hugged her once more and said “I promise, Elly.” After a moment, I stood up and ruffled my little sister’s hair. Then I turned to my Mother, who watched with watery eyes. The hair that had escaped from her tight bun was wisping around her face in the gentle breeze. The sun shining behind her produced an effect reminiscent of a halo. She embraced me with a level of care only a Mother could deliver. “I love you, Wren. You will always be my darling songbird,” she whispered into my ear. I released myself from the hug, and smiled one last time at my adoring Mother. I nodded once before forcing myself to turn to my Father. “Don’t disappoint me, son.” He stuck out his calloused hand and I shook it begrudgingly. It felt like cold leather in my grip. That was it. That was my final farewell from my Father. ‘Don’t disappoint’. No good luck, no I love you, nothing of the sort. Only a damn handshake. I knew I shouldn’t have expected anything different, but it still put me in a sour mood. What a great start to my expedition. I looked one last time at my sister and Mother in an effort to preserve some positive thoughts about my home. When I cemented this image in my mind, I omitted the withering glare of my Father beside them. I spun around and started down the path towards Deirtalamh. I marched towards witch country without so much as a glance over my shoulder. I was days into my trek when I came across the cabin. Being the son of Osgar Nieva gave me claim to the most promising Hunt. My journey was actually mapped to this location, whereas the rest of my group had to resort to aimless meandering. I heard the gentle melody of a person humming drifting out from within the house. How odd. My superiors swore it was a witch that lived here. A hunter from a few years prior reported catching a glimpse of a cabin before he was suddenly lost in the woods. Who could be humming so pleasantly within this peaceful home so deep into witch territory? I maneuvered my head to look through the open window and saw the source of the cheerful noise. She appeared like the sun incarnate. Her dark skin contrasted beautifully against the pale yellow of her clothes. Her hair curled unbound around her face. She stirred a pot of stew as she swayed softly to her own music, the fabric of her dress swishing mesmerizingly around her thighs. Beautiful suddenly seemed like an insufficient word to describe someone of her standing. I knew she was not the witch I had come to hunt. Of course I was no fool, I was aware that witches could glamor themselves to be beautiful. But their false beauty was always like that of a succubus, unnatural and deadly. No witch would have been able to conjure up the effortless and soft beauty of the woman in front of me. I was sure of it. Never mind the fact that if she were a witch, I would most certainly be dead. She would have sensed me coming from the moment I stepped foot onto her land, and she would have been ready to strike. If I had let myself get distracted for this long in the presence of a witch, I would have paid for my mistake in blood. I wondered how she had come to live in Deirtalamh. I’d heard tales of villagers who’d tried their luck here out of desperation, choosing to brave the dangers of witch territory rather than living in the impoverished slums of Dolag. I’d also heard of extreme cases where dangerous criminals were exiled here. This woman looked neither criminal in nature nor desperate to survive. She looked content. Regardless, I must get her to safety. I walked briskly over to the door and entered the cabin.

I wish there was a switch inside my head that I could flip, and it would make me stop desiring love, affection, and sex. I think about love and affection a lot. Just laying in bed and imagining someone wanting to hold my hand is enough to bring me to tears. It just feels so foolish and selfish to even think that someone would want me in that way. I think of someone cuddling with me and asking me about my day, and it makes me weep.
I'm way too damaged and way too inept at life to be in a relationship. Therefore I don't date. I feel that even if I found someone, I would be mostly a burden and would be a bad partner and lover.
I'm 25 and have had one relationship at 15 and am a virgin. I feel like I'm a little late for learning what relationships should be like, and it would be so embarrassing mortifying to be another mediocre man in someone's life.
I'm ugly. I'm physically unattractive, and although I was once a charismatic person, I feel that mental illness has erroded me into something really pathetic.
To be clear, I'm not an incel. I don't resent women for not wanting me and don't think I was doomed by my genetics or anything like that. I don't look at people in happy relationships and feel envy. Maybe a little (I'm only human), but I don't think maliciously of them. I truthfully don't think I'm entitled to love or affection or sex and don't expect anyone to settle for me. I desperately want these things and wish to have those experiences but am not in denial of the situation. I know that I'm not really an attractive partner by any metric, and I lack the will to improve myself in the ways that matter since I can barely keep myself from ending things as is, let alone foster a good career and improve my health and lose weight.
The truth is I just have so much love to give. I just want to give someone warmth and love and time and interest, but I know that I would be a bad boyfriend since I can barely function due to my depression. I feel like it would be wrong if I even tried.
I know that really bad people have partners that love them. Some of the worst people in the world. Abusers, rapists, bigots, etc. So many of them are able to connect to other human beings and find companionship and intimacy even when they inflict so much hurt. I sometimes think that I obviously must offer even less than those awful people. When my depression is at its lowest I feel that I'd be a worse partner than that because maybe atleast those people have discipline and conviction and goals and don't spend their days just trying to convince themselves to stay alive.
I know that that's probably not true, but I can't help but feel it sometimes.
I don't want to hurt anyone and would much rather die alone, never having lived through those feelings and experiences.
I just wish it would stop hurting. I still want to love and be loved so badly even if I often don't want to live.

This post may not be appropriate for this sub. However, I am wondering where I meet like minded women who are on the journey to become their best self. Whether that be hard or soft maxxing in their style, aesthetics, profession, education, health or fineness.

I have heard a great deal about many different supplements on here. I want to try anything to get my period naturally because birth control really messed me up. I was told my insulin resistance is fine and my weight is really not that bad (i workout and try to keep a good diet).
I get very nervous for side effects as I have emetophobia and some health anxiety. I already take the Centrum Vitamin multi gummy for women. What has been working for you all?

Hello everyone! Two weeks ago I started experiencing severe lower left abdominal pain to the point where I could hardly think straight. I ended up going to the ER, where after a normal ultrasound, transvaginal ultrasound, and an MRI, the gynecological surgeon found a 9x13 cm mass on my right ovary that had caused left ovarian torsion.
She was uncertain what it was, and her initial guess was a dermoid cyst. I was taken into emergency surgery that evening where they performed an exploratory laparotomy, which ended in them removing the tumor along with my right ovary which was engulfed by it. After surgery, as I was coming to, she explained to my BF and I that she suspected it was something known as an “ovarian fibroma” which is a very rare benign tumor of the ovary, but that cancer couldn’t be ruled out until the pathology reports came back. I began digging into what an ovarian fibroma is and it was not very reassuring during that week of waiting for my results. It occurs primarily in post menopausal women (I’m 24), and only accounts for 4% of ovarian tumors. The size was also quite large. I was convinced I had cancer of some sort.
Results came back, they diagnosed it as a benign ovarian fibroma. Woo hoo!! At my follow up meeting with my surgeon, she went over the results with me, but didn’t get into the nitty gritty aside from it had low cellular activity which is good, and that it was in fact an ovarian fibroma. All things considered, I felt like I got a second shot at life and was thankful the course ran the way it did. My mom died from malignant melanoma at 37, and I was convinced my life was going to take a similar course. I also struggle with bad health anxiety as an obvious trauma response to my moms early death.
I proceeded to convince myself in the days following that the pathology report is actually wrong, and that I may have been misdiagnosed with a benign tumor when in fact it may be something like a fibrosarcoma. I have no reasoning for this other than the hospital that I had this procedure and pathology done at is in a relatively small town area of Vermont. I am driving myself insane, and need some reassurance that I can trust the physicians and lab technicians who diagnosed this very rare tumor. Also any insight into “ovarian fibroma”, or coping skills, etc. thanks for reading <3

Hello everyone! Two weeks ago I started experiencing severe lower left abdominal pain to the point where I could hardly think straight. I ended up going to the ER, where after a normal ultrasound, transvaginal ultrasound, and an MRI, the gynecological surgeon found a 9x13 cm mass on my right ovary that had caused left ovarian torsion. She was uncertain what it was, and her initial guess was a dermoid cyst. I was taken into emergency surgery that evening where they performed an exploratory laparotomy, which ended in them removing the tumor along with my right ovary which was engulfed by it.
After surgery, as I was coming to, she explained to my BF and I that she suspected it was something known as an “ovarian fibroma” which is a very rare benign tumor of the ovary, but that cancer couldn’t be ruled out until the pathology reports came back. I began digging into what an ovarian fibroma is and it was not very reassuring during that week of waiting for my results. It occurs primarily in post menopausal women (I’m 24), and only accounts for 4% of ovarian tumors. The size was also quite large. I was convinced I had cancer of some sort.
Results came back, they diagnosed it as a benign ovarian fibroma. Woo hoo!! At my follow up meeting with my surgeon, she went over the results with me, but didn’t get into the nitty gritty aside from it had low cellular activity which is good, and that it was in fact an ovarian fibroma. All things considered, I felt like I got a second shot at life and was thankful the course ran the way it did. My mom died from malignant melanoma at 37, and I was convinced my life was going to take a similar course. I also struggle with bad health anxiety as an obvious trauma response to my moms early death.
I proceeded to convince myself in the days following that the pathology report is actually wrong, and that I may have been misdiagnosed with a benign tumor when in fact it may be something like a fibrosarcoma. I have no reasoning for this other than the hospital that I had this procedure and pathology done at is in a relatively small town area of Vermont. I am driving myself insane, and need some reassurance that I can trust the physicians and lab technicians who diagnosed this very rare tumor. Also any insight into “ovarian fibroma”, or coping skills, etc. thanks for reading <3

So basically I'm being harassed by my friends girlfriend. She swears any woman that speaks to him want him. Come to find out there are other women who are constantly going back & forth arguing with her because she's so damn delusional & has mental health issues. Anyways I've argued with her, got the last word & blocked her ass. But that wasn't the end of that, she stole pictures from my social medias including my modeling page - to make a fake Facebook page of me and put that i was doing escorting service. She added my friends onto that page & was sending them shit. She reached out to my mother and was harassing her from yet a another fake page. (This was a year ago) I was able to report and & so did my friends because they wasn't feeing into her shit. So just last night I seen my name popped up on google search where she made a Linkedin page about escorting services. And its got me disgusted because I work for a union and what if my employer sees it? I'm just so annoyed because this bitch got alot of time of her hands. I called my police department & all they said all I can do is make a harassment complaint but it wouldn't be investigated. At that point I just want to put my hands and feet on her. I know her name, address social media etc.. I even got photos & videos of her I just want vengeance but nothing can be done? Idk what to do.. please guide me.

I am so, so tired and depressed. My first ex was emotionally and physically abusive, and there were so many times where he'd mention a celebrity being hot without complimenting me. I had to ask him to stop doing that and start complimenting me. On the rare occasion when I did decline sex, he sometimes went and watched porn in another room (and I had sex with him often, about once a day, but sometimes, I just wasn't in the mood!!). I literally walked in on him jerking off to porn in the shower after we had clarified that neither of us would watch porn during our monogamous committed relationship. It's been over a year or two since we stopped dating, but I recently checked on his social (he had reached out to one of my friend's boyfriends, which reminded me of him and his account), and he follows instathots and sexual accounts, women with faces and bodies he claimed were ugly and fake when we had been dating but are now clearly getting him hard.
My second ex seemed like a good and nice guy but also had commented on celebrities being hot without ever complimenting me at the beginning of the relationship. It just devastated me because clearly I do not hold a candle to Olivia Wilde in terms of physical appearance. I had to ask him to stop telling me other women are hot... which seems like an insane ask and also reminded me of my first ex. If you really think your girlfriend is beautiful, why are you not telling her while telling her how beautiful other women are? I also had to ask this one to compliment me, to which he responded that he wasn't comfortable with giving compliments. But he was so comfortable telling me compliments about other women?? He also hadn't wanted to take any photos of or with me. I had to beg him for that, too. Anyways, he ended up complimenting me more but it felt cheap and flimsy since I had to beg him to do it and also beg him to stop calling celebs hot. Toward the end, he said I was the most beautiful girl and prettier than celebrities, but I know he was lying because it's just not true and his previous words and actions showed that.
He didn't follow any instathot accounts but had liked a few sus tweets from coworkers, which upset me and we discussed it and he unliked them and didn't do it anymore. I also clarified at the beginning that I don't want my partner to be sexually gratifying himself to other women's bodies, in person or electronically, including porn. He agreed and said he wouldn't do it, but then ended up doing it four months into our relationship and acted like it wasn't a big deal. It super upset me for obvious reasons and also because I was developing UTIs after sex constantly and was on antibiotics, which weren't healthy for me. Also paid a bit of money for the appointments and meds I had to take for the infections... I had been sacrificing my health to have sex with him and please him, which he was aware of, and he still just didn't care and jerked. Like who cares that my girlfriend could die of a kidney infection from pleasing me, I want a big titty porn star video right now, my gf can die for all I care.
I feel so awful for straight women because we literally have slop for options. All men seem to do this and want their cake (having sex with our bodies and whatever else they drain from us) and to eat it, too (being able to consume porn of millions of other women and be unfaithful to us). I am just sickened and tired and want a normal, decent boyfriend who is faithful to me like I am to him. I hate how normalized porn has become. It is NOT normal for men to have the "need" to watch multiple different women to get their rocks off. And my second ex struggled occasionally to get and stay hard and I felt him go soft inside of me a few times like seriously... I am so unattractive in his eyes that he can't even stay hard inside of me during sex. I think he was used to jerking to other women and just subconsciously found my body unappealing because.... hey, there are literally goddesses online who I cannot compete with and lose out to every time. I will never be beautiful to anyone. Being beautiful is so beyond reach for me. I'm more likely to die and come back to life three days later than be pretty, and it makes me want to just end myself

There are almost no instances of insane people in the pool of mass murderers. They all have distinct reasons for doing what they did.
Do you think you're going to rid the world of mental health problems? Many of which are caused by society itself. Economic hardships with no safety net, the destruction of the family unit, and increasing amounts of incarceration.
Are you going to rid the world of weapons altogether? What a bunch of hippy nonsense. 'Common sense gun laws' as if some people are superior to others and would never do such a thing... until they do. Christopher Dorner, Robert Stewart, Timothy Mcveigh.
Are you going to have men stop being men? I guess so given so many transwomen and soyboys. But women have done many equally horrible things as well. It's not a sex thing beyond the fact that women from infancy are taught if they cry they will get help, and men are taught they need to do it themselves. No matter how much they cry, society doesn't care.
All of these are ways to put a pretty bow on top of the entire issue. To make it a single issue. Lump the trans shooter with the one who hates gay people. To make it an issue that society is unable to solve.
The real problem is the complete inability to see any reason in the perpetrators. We can kill thousands in a war and justify it. But an individual killing others. There can't be a valid reason behind that. Must be something wrong with them.

CW: sex related content, homophobia, religion, mental health issues.
I’m a bisexual girl, I’m 19. I’m in a relationship with a girl (18) I’m very attracted to, we have been together for almost 3 years and she’s absolutely my type but…I don’t know what’s happening to me. We haven’t had sex since January because 1. I’m insecure of my body 2. I can’t really enjoy sex with her. She’s good at it but I can’t stop thinking about having sex with men. When I remember I’m attracted to women, I suddenly cringe, I feel like I’m weird and not like other girls and it makes me sad. I can’t masturbate on women without feeling guilty, I can’t even think of women in a sexual way without feeling weird af. I feel like I’m just a straight girl forcing herself to like women, but like…I like women! I’m attracted to my girlfriend, I just find it cringe. Whenever I see other wlw couples I feel sad because I don’t get to experience sexuality like them, I feel guilty about being attracted to women, mainly because I like being feminine and I feel like being attracted to women makes me less feminine and I hate being masculine. All I think about is having sex with men, even multiple, being pregnant and marrying a man, an extremely traditionally masculine man and finally becoming a normal girl. Also, I do suffer from OCD and my family is really conservative, also my religion is a problem because it’s very conservative, so maybe I’m influenced by those things. I’m obsessed with being considered attractive by men, I can’t really focus on my relationship anymore. I love my girlfriend. I wanna go back to my normal life, I wanna be free to enjoy my bisexuality. What can I do? How can I overcome my internalized homophobia? I’ve met a couple of therapist but I live in a city in Italy and here the majority of them believe in Freud’s theory on homosexuality, so…

I posted a question on WomensHealth and because I'm the husband, they don't allow a 3rd party post there. My wife doesn't have a Reddit account. That mod suggested I repost to AskDocs. It's been a week with not a single reply on that sub.
Short version, my wife has a vaginal discomfort issue. Where can I post the questions and actually get some replies?

Never thought I'd be making this post. I'm only seeking advice on how to emotionally handle this situation because I'm the type whose face is an open book.
Back in March, I (27F) had a family visit (as hundred others) for a proposal. I was emotionally exhausted, and the abuse at home seems to have triggered by rage issues and depression. As this was one of the many families who my mother invites without my consent, I met with them, hoping for the best.
I do not like them. They are materialistic and judgemental people. Those were my first impressions.
They made us travel 3 hours mid Ramadan to meet us again (different cities) and were less than courteous throughout the meeting.
After much insistence on my mother's part, she's tried to force me into marrying every single guy she could get interested in, she controls the process and I'm in a deeply narcisstic relationship with her.
After much asking, the guy came to the women's side for like a minute. I was very disappointed, I'm being brutally honest. The pictures are deceptive. I'd seen his bio before, it is common to lie about the height in my community, but this was a stretch. He looked completely different.
I cannot tolerate people who lie to be honest.
His side invited most of his immediate relatives. We were outnumbered by 2:12.
He asked how our Ramadan was going, apoligised for making us travel and that's it. I don't know why I was so offended over this but don't people bring something to the house when they come along?
They did not. They've asked all about our whereabouts to verify about us but ofcourse my parents won't do their due diligence and get to know the guy.
My only hope was having a proper conversation with this person but since that did not happen. I thought not much would come out of it because my mother only once mentioned they'll be visiting us in August again and then take a decision.
My parents have and will lie. I feel guilty writing such bad things about them but they've done worse. I cannot say no because things turn abusive and my mental health is at the edge of a cliff.
I've gone from praying duha everyday to missing fajr. So faithwise, I'm at a loss too.
Today I overhear a conversation between my father and the guy's father. It was out of the blue, they are fixing wedding dates. The guy's father was convincing my father to book the same venue for a discount.
I do not want this kind of a wedding. I've always made it clear I want a simple nikah but I guess that's expecting too much when them asking for my consent for the person itself is out of the question.
I don't even know how to react to this. At the moment I'm completely isolated and have no one in my family to reach out for help. My mother's side are a slice out of television drama.
A couple friends know about my situation and one of them offered to help me leave my family last year but I did not take her up on that offer because I hoped Allah would make a halal way.
That even though the entire process has been haram, Allah will perhaps send a compatible spouse.
I'm at a loss honestly. My parents are pretending as if they've been transparent about this all along when they've been as silent as possible on it.
I have no way to contact the guy. Hell, he does not even have a LinkedIn.
Unlike every other time I did not argue with my parents, did not do my istekhara (or maybe I did, my memory's been all over the place with all the istekharas I've had to do), I just gave up this time around. I guess I was hoping this one would work out eventually, after meeting him again but what is this?
Is this normal in desi families? Am I missing something?
Please tell me there's hope for kheir. I don't know what I want to hear, as much as I hope nobody had to go through such hell, is there anyone who's been in this scenario. How do you advice I handle this?
Edit: I know you all mean well about moving out but its a lost opportunity now. As for finances, I'm financially constrainted, my savings from my first job were sacked. I was not allowed to work for 4 out of the 6 six years since I graduated. Last year, I'd found a good job and all, but my mother forced me to quit. I'd prefer keeping the details vague. Finance was also one of the reasons, I did not move out. I'd be for the streets in SA. Some of you may go check my profile, so might as well say it, my mother MOVED countries to make me quit my job. I was on my father's visa in the Gulf.
My life last year was just getting dolled up for a new family every other day. I couldn't find work either. Part of it is my fault, I just kept hoping Allah will make a way.
I'm currently back in the Gulf. I'll be going back to my home country with my parents in August. As I type this out now, it feels pre-planned for some reason.

Hello Lovely Ladies!
This is my first post here-I think I may have replied a time or so to a random post over the last few months. I've been reading here several times a week, and wanted to talk about some things I've read-along with my own struggles and what I've tried to do to help myself.
I am 57. I went through my first year with no period at 54. At the last month of that, I had the worst period of my life. I'd been bleeding heavily for a decade before, and had fibroids-barely managed to keep my uterus with Prometrium 200 mg. nightly for three weeks out of every month. But this was....a crime scene. I had to use plain cotton baby diapers folded up with a heavy disposable pad on top of that and change every two hours-I went like that for 5 days until it slowed down. I was weak as a kitten and on vacation at the beach expecting to have a great time. It literally sucked.
Some women say it can be like that. I never had another period again.
I stayed on the Prometrium and investigated what type of estrogen replacement I might be able to take with Fibroids. For a year or so, I took no estrogen. I finally got so desperate with no sex drive, sleep, no feeling in my clitoris or nipples, grouchy and unfeeling towards people-and the biggie-I couldn't remember anything and felt I was losing my mind. My cholesterol, blood sugar and A1C went sky high. So, I started the lowest minimal dose of Bi-est cream.
I felt amazing after the side effects of bloating and breast tenderness wore off. My sex drive came back, and although my clitoris and nipple feelings didn't come back well, I could orgasm occasionally. But the best of all was that my brain power returned and I could function again without seeming like an idiot. I even started nursing school and did really well with tests, etc. Sleep still suffered, but it wasn't as bad.
Then this last January, I had a 4 day mild period-like bleed. I used a mini pad a day. I called my GYN and immediately went off the Bi-Est and waited to be seen. In March, I had an Ultrasound and then in April I had a uterine biopsy done. My uterine lining was at 8, and biopsy was negative for cancer. It turns out my lining was at 8 before starting the Bi-Est cream the year before, and I wasn't told (I was pissed about that). So, the Estrogen didn't cause it. I was off the Bi-Est for 4 months before I felt I just couldn't survive all the symptoms anymore. They all came roaring back, and if anything, worse than before. I contacted my doc in tears and asked, please, for something. She called in a compounded cream of the most lowest dose of Bi-Est (1.86 mg, I think) along with Testosterone and DHEA mixed in, and a bit of Progesterone. I'm going to continue to take the Prometrium at night, because it has an affinity for the uterine tissue and is super protective against uterine cancer-the cream version can be debated, but it doesn't seem to work as well for prevention of cancer. At some point, I'm going to have to have my uterus out. I'm starting this cream this week, wish me luck.
I spent alot of time researching what I could do for myself in the meantime. Here's what has worked so far:

1. Prioritize yourself. See your doctor and get the labs and meds you need. I am now on a low-dose Statin (I hate it but....) and Ozempic for the Diabetes. I ate clean and minimal carbs, but something happened when I went into Meno that was very bad-like I hit a point health wise and age wise where the bad stuff was going to start to happen. On Ozempic, my A1C has gone down to 5.3 from 8.9 and body inflammation everyplace has toned down. Do what you need to do for YOU.
2. HYDRATE-something I struggled with. I started drinking 1/2 gallon of non-caffeinated teas with added water to a jug everyday. This totally adjusted my digestive system and I don't feel as fatigued or constipated.
3. SLEEP-I use a mixture of things and I rotate them so I don't get too used to them and they fail to work. One night I may take a Benedryl, the next L-Theanine, the next a Melatonin tab-but always take these with Glycine 1,000 mgs and Magnesium Glycinate, 5 capsules to make sure I get just over that 100% daily requirement. I'm thinking off trying to add in Taurine. Resveratrol 100 mgs. makes me sleepy, too. I still wake up at 2-4a.m. and struggle to get back to sleep, but if I'm in bed by 9 and asleep by 10, then I get at least 4-5 hours. With the Bi-Est, I was getting 7 hours. If I'm really stressed about a nursing proctor test the next day or such, I'll take L-Theanine with Melatonin or the Benedryl. Find what works for you individually.
4. HRT-hoping this new combo is going to work for me. I absolutely can't make it without the estrogen. We will see what will happen with the DHEA and Testosterone with sex drive and feeling in the bits again. The key is getting what I need at the minimal dose and preventing uterine cancer until I can get the insurance to pay to get my uterus out.

I hope this helps someone here. I find that if I just wake up and say to myself "I'm going to prioritize hydrating and sleep today", that it makes everything seem better. I can't let myself down on those two things, ever-because then I struggle and it's a downhill slide.

Introduction
Dr. Sarada Mamilla is renowned as one of the best gynecologists in Hyderabad. She is highly skilled and has extensive experience in the field of gynecology. Dr. Sarada Mamilla is known for her compassionate approach towards her patients and her commitment to providing the highest quality of care.
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Dr. Sarada Mamilla is associated with reputed hospitals in Hyderabad and is recognized for her excellent diagnostic skills and personalized treatment plans. She believes in creating a comfortable and supportive environment for her patients, where they can openly discuss their concerns and receive the best possible care.
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If you are looking for a top-notch gynecologist in Hyderabad, Dr. Sarada Mamilla is highly recommended for her expertise, professionalism, and dedication to women's health.

Dr. Sarada Mamilla: A Leading Gynecologist in Hyderabad

Dr. Sarada Mamilla is a highly skilled and experienced gynecologist who has dedicated her career to women's health and well-being. With over 15 years of experience, she has established herself as a trusted name in the field of gynecology in Hyderabad. Dr. Sarada Mamilla's commitment to providing exceptional care to her patients sets her apart. She has a special interest in normal deliveries and has successfully guided numerous mothers through this natural birthing process.

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Location Details

Call Us: +91 8599989995
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Email Id : [email protected]

I (F27) left a job in July 2022 because it was ruining my mental health. Now, almost a year later, here are just a few things I’ve experienced in this time:

• I just interviewed for two months for a job where they told me an offer letter would be coming that week. Then they proceeded to say the higher ups had decided to remove the position all together and won’t be hiring anymore.
  
• One of my other final round interviewers was so misogynistic he left me crying after and spent our entire final round interview asking me elaborate math riddles and telling me I seemed too enthusiastic. The hiring manager proceeded to message me after on LinkedIn telling me she wishes it had turned out differently and that she loved me. She said he can be “difficult” with “young professionals.” As if any of that matters. I’m still unemployed!
  
• Another final round exec spent the entire interview telling me about his career goals, his new boat, and how he wants to run the company within a year. Insisted, unprovoked, that he was “committed to hiring more women.” Asked nothing about me, no questions about the job, then said “darn, it looks like we’re out of time. I appreciate your interest.”
  
• Was told I had “the perfect resume” then promptly ghosted once I sent in my availability for an interview.
  
• This one is my favorite. I felt like I had amazing interviews and did a case study they said was the best one they had seen and then I was rejected in the final round. But in the email they made sure to tell me the case study had given them “so many tangible ideas” and they are “SO grateful” for my time. We love free labor and no reward!
  

I don’t know what to do anymore and I’m losing hope, money, and feeling like I’m cursed. Everyone around me is convinced I must be doing something wrong because there’s no way I’m failing this much.
Is it even worth applying anywhere with a 1 year gap? Should I assume any interviews I get won’t lead anywhere? I tried to apply to a minimum wage job last night and broke down before hitting send because I cannot believe my life has come to this. I feel completely worthless and like a zombie most days now.

St. Jerome, 393 AD: Men Should Not Marry
St. Jerome (AD 347 – AD 420) was one of the most prolific of the early Christian theologists. His main accomplishment was the translation of the Bible into Latin, an important part of the crumbling Roman Empire’s conversion to Christianity. He is frequently ranked among the likes of Augustine, Ambrose, and Gregory the Great as one of the original Doctors of the Church.
Although Christianity has a long history of supporting holy matrimony, St. Jerome was vehemently opposed to the idea of marriage. In my opinion, his condemnation goes too far; he claims furthermore that all sexual contact is inherently sinful and unclean, and urges chastity for all people. It is worth noting that he engaged in much sexual hedonism and debauchery as a young student in Rome, so he at least speaks with experience, if only to reject that lifestyle. Nevertheless, his dissection and critique of marriage and male-female relations remain supremely insightful.
(His advice could be applied to softer relationships too, for the same dynamics and drawbacks are present, albeit in lesser form. Where he says “marriage,” one could easily replace it with “LTR,” and “wife” with “girlfriend.”)
He lays down his reasoning in a book written in 393 AD, Against Jovinianus. An extremely well-learned man, Jerome brings up many quotes, anecdotes, and famous figures from the Classical world. Here are the original sources for these excerpts if you want the whole picture.

Theophrastus’ Golden Book of Marriage I feel that . . . I have said far more than is customary in illustrating a point, and that I might be justly censured by my learned reader. But what am I to do when the women of our time press me with apostolic authority, and before the first husband is buried, repeat from morning to night the precepts which allow a second marriage? Seeing they despise the fidelity which Christian purity dictates, let them at least learn chastity from the heathen. 

Even back then, women were quick to move on with their (love) lives, and marriage vows held little sway.

A book - On Marriage - worth its weight in gold, passes under the name of Theophrastus. In it the author asks whether a wise man marries. And after laying down the conditions that the wife must be fair, of good character and honest parentage, the husband in good health and of ample means, and after saying that under these circumstances a wise man sometimes enters the state of matrimony, he immediately proceeds thus: “But all these conditions are seldom satisfied in marriage. A wise man therefore must not take a wife. For in the first place his study of philosophy will be hindered, and it is impossible for anyone to attend to his books and his wife. Matrons want many things: costly dresses, gold, jewels, great outlay, maid-servants, all kinds of furniture, litters and gilded coaches. Then come curtain-lectures the livelong night: she complains that one lady goes out better dressed than she; that another is looked up to by all; ‘I am a poor despised nobody at the ladies assemblies.’ ‘Why did you ogle that creature next door?’ ‘Why were you talking to the maid?’ ‘What did you bring from the market?’ ‘I am not allowed to have a single friend, or companion.’ She suspects that her husband’s love goes the same way as her hate. 

God, those complaints sound word-for-word like what you’d hear today. Things just don’t change.

There may be in some neighbouring city the wisest of teachers; but if we have a wife we can neither leave her behind, nor take the burden with us. To support a poor wife, is hard; to put up with a rich one, is torture. Notice, too, that in the case of a wife you cannot pick and choose; you must take her as you find her. If she has a bad temper, or is a fool, if she has a blemish, or is proud, or has bad breath, whatever her fault may be – all this we learn after marriage. Horses, asses, cattle, even slaves of the smallest worth, clothes, kettles, wooden seats, cups, and earthenware pitchers, are first tried and then bought; a wife is the only thing that is not shown before she is married, for fear she may not give satisfaction. 

I’ll admit that it is now easier than ever to “try before you buy,” but even so, a woman has incentive to hide her flaws and stay on her best behavior until you’re invested and committed. In any case, you’d still have to do a lot of sifting to find one without any major faults.

Our gaze must always be directed to her face, and we must always praise her beauty: if you look at another woman, she thinks that she is out of favour. She must be called ‘my lady,’ her birth-day must be kept, we must swear by her health and wish that she may survive us, respect must be paid to the nurse, to the nursemaid, to the father’s slave, to the foster-child, to the handsome hanger-on, to the curled darling who manages her affairs, and to the eunuch who ministers to the safe indulgence of her lust; names which are only a cloak for adultery. Upon whomsoever she sets her heart, they must have her love though they want her not. 

But she say he just a friend!

If you give her the management of the whole house, you must yourself be her slave. If you reserve something for yourself, she will not think you are loyal to her; but she will turn to strife and hatred, and unless you quickly take care, she will have the poison ready. 

Poisoning is harder to get away with these days, so they use divorce papers instead.

If you introduce old women, and soothsayers, and prophets, and vendors of jewels and silken clothing, you imperil her chastity; if you shut the door upon them, she is injured and fancies you suspect her. But what is the good of even a careful guardian, when an unchaste wife cannot be watched, and a chaste one ought not to be? For necessity is but a faithless keeper of chastity, and she alone really deserves to be called pure, who is free to sin if she chooses. 

In other words, mate-guarding is useless, and a woman who is faithful only out of fear of consequences or of losing you is not truly pure at heart. She can still mentally undress anybody she wants.

If a woman be fair, she soon finds lovers; if she be ugly, it is easy to be wanton [i.e. promiscuous] It is difficult to guard what many long for. It is annoying to have what no one thinks worth possessing. 

If nobody’s buying her goods, then the price of entry goes down. But since most men value sexual exclusivity as much as sexual attractiveness, then so does the value. It’s a vicious cycle, but what’s a plain woman to do to snatch a high-value mate?

But the misery of having an ugly wife is less than that of watching a comely one. Nothing is safe, for which a whole people sighs and longs. One man entices with his figure, another with his brains, another with his wit, another with his open hand. Somehow, or sometime, the fortress is captured which is attacked on all sides. 

Jerome notices that there are many ways to stimulate a woman’s lust. Wealthy noblemen, lanky musicians, sly conmen, brutish warriors, and stern rulers all enjoy sexual success in exchange for what their lifestyles have to offer.

Men marry, indeed, so as to get a manager for the house, to solace weariness, to banish solitude; but a faithful slave is a far better manager, more submissive to the master, more observant of his ways, than a wife who thinks she proves herself mistress if she acts in opposition to her husband, that is, if she does what pleases her, not what she is commanded. 

Then, as now, men had the same fears and faulty reasoning in pursuing relationships with women.

But friends, and servants who are under the obligation of benefits received, are better able to wait upon us in sickness than a wife who makes us responsible for her tears (she will sell you enough to make a deluge for the hope of a legacy), boasts of her anxiety, but drives her sick husband to the distraction of despair. But if she herself is poorly, we must fall sick with her and never leave her bedside. 

Notice he uses the word “sell” to describe the woman’s crying and pleading for children (i.e. a legacy). Jerome had enough experience with women to see through the long con.

Or if she be a good and agreeable wife (how rare a bird she is!), we have to share her groans in childbirth, and suffer torture when she is in danger. 

Even if she does her best to make your life easy, a good woman still needs much support, protection, and care. Proceed at your own risk.

Then again, to marry for the sake of children, so that our name may not perish, or that we may have support in old age and leave our property without dispute, is the height of stupidity. For what is it to us when we are leaving the world if another bears our name, when even a son does not all at once take his father’s title, and there are countless others who are called by the same name. Or what support in old age is he whom you bring up, and who may die before you, or turn out a reprobate? Or at all events when he reaches mature age, you may seem to him long in dying. 

Many of my grandfather’s friends raised incompetent sons, despite being hardworking and conscientious themselves. As a result, they’ve had no support from their offspring in their old age. It is always a gamble, even if you do right by your family.

Friends and relatives whom you can judiciously love are better and safer heirs than those whom you must make your heirs whether you like it or not. Indeed, the surest way of having a good heir is to ruin your fortune in a good cause while you live, not to leave the fruit of your labour to be used you know not how. 

This is probably a big, big factor in how the children of good men become spoiled. They know a great inheritance is in the works, plus they’ve had every want and need fulfilled since their parents were so successful at providing, so where’s the children’s incentive to work hard themselves and pay back the favor? For those same reasons, a wife can be spoiled the same way your children can.

Examples Showing Why Men Should Not Marry When Cicero - after divorcing Terentia - was requested by Hirtius to marry his sister, he set the matter altogether on one side, and said that he could not possibly devote himself to a wife and to philosophy. Meanwhile that excellent partner, who had herself drunk wisdom at Tully’s fountains, married Sallust his enemy, and took for her third husband Messala Corvinus, and thus, as it were, passed through three degrees of eloquence. Socrates had two wives, Xantippe and Myron, grand-daughter of Aristides. They frequently quarreled, and he was accustomed to banter them for disagreeing about him, he being the ugliest of men, with snub nose, bald forehead, rough-haired, and bandylegged. At last they planned an attack upon him, and having punished him severely and put him to flight, vexed him for a long time. 

I find it interesting that St. Jerome pointed out Socrates’ ugliness as the reason for his wives abusing and disrespecting him. I guess looks do matter.

On one occasion when he opposed Xantippe, who from above was heaping abuse upon him, the termagant soused him with dirty water, but he only wiped his head and said, “I knew that a shower must follow such thunder as that.” 

Socrates had another quip, something along the lines of “If you marry a good wife you will become happy; if you marry a bad one you will become a philosopher.” At least he had a sense of humor about it all.

Metella, consort of Lucius Sulla the Fortunate (except in the matter of his wife) was openly unchaste. It was the common talk of Athens, as I learnt in my youthful years when we soon pick up what is bad, and yet Sulla was in the dark, and first got to know the secrets of his household through the abuse of his enemies. 

To put this in context, Lucius Sulla was one of the most successful generals and leaders of Rome. He sacked Athens, captured Rome to end a civil war, became dictator, and reinstated the Roman Senate. He was declared by none other than Machiavelli as having the prime attributes of an effective leader – cunning like a fox, courageous like a lion. Apparently all this had no bearing on his wife’s fidelity.

Pompey had an impure wife Mucia, who was surrounded by eunuchs from Pontus and troops of the countrymen of Mithridates. Others thought that he knew all and submitted to it; but a comrade told him during the campaign, and the conqueror of the whole world was dismayed at the sad intelligence. 

Pompey could be considered a successor of sorts to Sulla. As a young military commander, he was wildly successful, ruthless, and bold. He became consul of Rome at age 35, an unprecedented feat attributed to his popularity. All this was still not enough to inspire his wife to remain true. They divorced after Pompey learned of her frequent adultery during his military campaigns.

Cato, the Censor, had a wife Actoria Paula, a woman of low origin, fond of drink, violent, and (who would believe it?) haughty to Cato. I say this for fear anyone may suppose that in marrying a poor woman he has secured peace. 

A poor woman will not be automatically appreciative of your relative wealth, and make only modest demands of you. She will still want everything you have to offer. Just as you want her sexual best – and nothing less – she will want your provisional best – and nothing less.

When Philip, king of Macedon, against whom Demosthenes thundered in his Philippics, was entering his bed-room as usual, his wife in a passion shut him out. Finding himself excluded he held his tongue, and consoled himself for the insult by reading a tragic poem. 

Even kings are made to sleep on the couch. Sing it with me: “Who run tha world?”

Gorgias the Rhetorician recited his excellent treatise on Concord to the Greeks, then at variance among themselves, at Olympia. Whereupon Melanthius his enemy observed: “Here is a man who teaches us concord, and yet could not make concord between himself, his wife, and maid-servant, three persons in one house.” The truth was that his wife envied the beauty of the girl, and drove the purest of men wild with daily quarrels. 

How do you keep multiple girlfriends happy? Make each one secretly believe she’s number one.

Whole tragedies of Euripides are censures on women. Hence Hermione says, “The counsels of evil women have beguiled me.” In the semibarbarous and remote city Leptis it is the custom for a daughter-in-law on the second day to beg the loan of a jar from her mother-in-law. The latter at once denies the request, and we see how true was the remark of Terence, ambiguously expressed on purpose – “How is this? Do all mothers-in-law hate their daughters-in-law?” 

A mother often understands her son’s wife/girlfriend better than he does – that hatred means something.

We read of a certain Roman noble who, when his friends found fault with him for having divorced a wife, beautiful, chaste, and rich, put out his foot and said to them, “And the shoe before you looks new and elegant, yet no one but myself knows where it pinches.” Herodotus tells us that a woman puts off her modesty with her clothes. And our own comic poet thinks the man fortunate who has never been married. In all the bombast of tragedy and the overthrow of houses, cities, and kingdoms, it is the wives and concubines who stir up strife. Parents take up arms against their children; unspeakable banquets are served; and on account of the rape of one wretched woman Europe and Asia are involved in a ten years’ war. 

I am not sure what war Jerome is referring to here, maybe someone with better history knowledge can chime in.

We read of some who were divorced the day after they were married, and immediately married again. Both husbands are to blame, both he who was so soon dissatisfied, and he who was so soon pleased. Epicurus the patron of pleasure (though Metrodorus his disciple married Leontia) says that a wise man can seldom marry, because marriage has many drawbacks. And as riches, honours, bodily health, and other things which we call indifferent, are neither good nor bad, but stand as it were midway, and become good and bad according to the use and issue, so wives stand on the border line of good and ill. It is, moreover, a serious matter for a wise man to be in doubt whether he is going to marry a good or a bad woman. The Snares of Marital Love; Chastity Recommended to Women Aristotle and Plutarch and our Seneca have written treatises on matrimony, out of which we have already made some extracts and now add a few more: “The love of beauty is the forgetting of reason and the near neighbour of madness; a foul blot little in keeping with a sound mind. It confuses counsel, breaks high and generous spirits, draws away men from great thoughts to mean ones; it makes men querulous, ill-tempered, foolhardy, cruelly imperious, servile flatterers, good for nothing, at last not even for love itself. For although in the intensity of passion it burns like a raging fire, it wastes much time through suspicions, tears, and complaints: it begets hatred of itself, and at last hates itself.” The course of love is laid bare in Plato’s Phaedrus from beginning to end, and Lysias explains all its drawbacks – how it is led not by reason, but by frenzy, and in particular is a harsh gaoler over lovely wives. 

Jerome is talking not only of oneitis, but of pure lust as well. Both can lead to a man’s downfall. In both cases, sexual jealousy can rear its ugly head. But if a woman wants to cheat or branch-swing, there is virtually nothing you can do to stop her from acting on that desire, or from having the desire in the first place. And if a woman does not want to cheat or branch-swing, then jealousy is useless and can only damage your standing in the relationship, perhaps leading to a self-fulfilling prophecy. And all the while, your feelings of rage and inadequacy only cause you psychological harm. That said, I completely understand the natural tendency to become jealous. It is probably an evolved, instinctive response to being cuckolded or losing reproductive opportunity, which would’ve been useful to avoid wasting resources and to keep your genes in the gene pool. But if sex is all you’re after – and the women you sleep with fulfill your sexual desires – then what do her other lovers matter to you? Sure, STDs are a concern, but if it’s your goal to sleep with multiple women, you’re already exposing yourself to considerable risk.

There is nothing blacker than to love a wife as if she were an adulteress. Men who say they have contracted marriage and are bringing up children, for the good of their country and of the race, should at least imitate the brutes, and not destroy their offspring in the womb; nor should they appear in the character of lovers, but of husbands. In some cases marriage has grown out of adultery; and, shameful to relate! men have tried to teach their wives chastity after having taken their chastity away. 

I think this speaks to the hypocrisy of men expecting women to enjoy having sex, but only with them and no one else. If a woman likes wine, would she only drink chardonnay? If a woman likes country, would she only listen to Carrie Underwood? Likewise, if a woman genuinely enjoys sex, why would her tastes be limited to just one man?

Marriages of that sort are quickly dissolved when lust is satiated. The first allurement gone, the charm is lost. 

Relationships based on attraction alone do not last, simple as that. You actually have to be compatible as people – if that’s possible between a man and woman. You both need enough self-control and motivation to overcome your straying impulses. Men must check their desire for polygamy, and women must check their desire for hypergamy. Otherwise, the relationship will become exploitative on one side or the other, or dissolve entirely.

What shall I say, says Seneca, of the poor men who in numbers are bribed to take the name of husband in order to evade the laws promulgated against bachelors? How can he who is married under such conditions be a guide to morality, teach chastity, and maintain the authority of a husband? 

Even then, men were compelled to marry and place themselves under the yoke. Remind me again how Marriage 1.0 was such a good deal? Ain’t a damn thing changed.
Summary: St. Jerome, one of the most influential figures in early Christianity, warned of the follies and dangers of marriage, and advised wholeheartedly against it. Even during Marriage 1.0, women often ruled the relationship. Famous philosophers, powerful rulers, and charming orators were unable to keep their wives in check. Jealousy and mate-guarding are useless to prevent cheating, they can only help a man to walk away from potential cuckoldry and abuse. It is paradoxical to expect a woman who enjoys sex to only desire it with you. Conversely, it is irrational to expect a chaste woman to act like your own personal whore.
Do not marry for sex or love, because the relationship will crumble when mutual attraction fades. Marrying to have kids is also foolish, because you don’t know how they will turn out or whether they will actually support you in your old age. Ultimately, it is impossible to know for certain beforehand if a woman will make a good or bad wife, so it is wisest to avoid the risk altogether. DO NOT MARRY.