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Susan Patton, human resources consultant, Princeton mom, and spewer of copious amounts of misogynist garbage, is back. A year after she posted her concern-trolling letter to the women of Princeton, urging them to find a husband before they become washed-up 22-year olds with no prospects of ever getting married, she's now taking her "advice" to the Wall Street Journal. It's the same message in a new outfit—stop being unadulterated hussies, burn your degree, sweep out your fucking vagina, and get married already:
Despite all of the focus on professional advancement, for most of you the cornerstone of your future happiness will be the man you marry. But chances are that you haven't been investing nearly as much energy in planning for your personal happiness as you are planning for your next promotion at work. What are you waiting for? You're not getting any younger, but the competition for the men you'd be interested in marrying most definitely is.
Think about it: If you spend the first 10 years out of college focused entirely on building your career, when you finally get around to looking for a husband you'll be in your 30s, competing with women in their 20s. That's not a competition in which you're likely to fare well. If you want to have children, your biological clock will be ticking loud enough to ward off any potential suitors. Don't let it get to that point.
I am both a happily married person and I have a couple of degrees, and I can tell you with certainty that one doesn't have anything to do with the other. The best advice my grandmother ever gave me was, "Don't marry the first guy you have sex with, always make your own money, and for god's sake get a fucking education," so I called her to ask what she thought of advice like this:
An extraordinary education is the greatest gift you can give yourself. But if you are a young woman who has had that blessing, the task of finding a life partner who shares your intellectual curiosity and potential for success is difficult. Those men who are as well-educated as you are often interested in younger, less challenging women.
My 81-year old grandma said: "Fuck 'em—who the hell wants to end up with a man that doesn't want you because you're smart? Don't date dummies and you won't have a problem."
The question here isn't about whether or not Susan Patton has any idea what she's talking about or if we should take her seriously, but how much salve she needs to apply to her skin on a daily basis to combat the damage done when someone dug her up out of her cave.