What I know about men: Meera Syal, actress
A lot of insecure men find funny women very threatening, because a sense of humour implies intelligence and sometimes aggression. When I was growing up in Wolverhampton, if I could come up with a funnier joke than a boy, it emasculated him on the spot.
When I first started writing, I was reminded of one of Arabella Weir's characters in The Fast Show. She comes up with an idea, but the men in the room ignore it until one of them repeats it. Only a few years ago, producing and directing were jobs for the boys, but now there are a lot more women on all levels. Although, men have changed in the workplace too. In this business lots are married to strong, creative women. They have learned from personal experience. Men don't want a doormat, they want an equal.
I met my husband, Sanjeev Bhaskar, on Goodness Gracious Me in 1996, but I saw him first on stage. He really stood out, because he was so surreal and intelligent. I remember feeling quite envious. I thought he was good but then I thought he was a little too good. He was better than me.
We knew each other for six years before getting together. It was a natural progression from being friends. People ask if there was a definite moment, but there wasn't really. It was about timing. I would say that being friends first is the only way to have a great relationship. When everything else has got wrinkly and dropped off, you still have what attracted you in the first place, which is the person who makes you laugh, you can talk to and confide in.
I was married before and I don't regret it. We are good friends. I only have two exes and I married one of them. I was a really late starter. I'm almost embarrassed to say that I was 23 when I met my first boyfriend. My dad made it clear that boys were not on the agenda until well after school. I was a sheltered girl when I left home.
At university I was a slightly bolshie feminist. I wore what my husband fondly calls my Femi-Nazi war look, of leggings, Doc Martens and long jumpers. It was the vogue to not like men. I had friends who turned gay on principle, though very rapidly after leaving they hooked up with men and had babies. But at university men were bastards. That was a home for a while and then I realised I was cutting off half my community. I was not going to solve anything by being separatist. It lasted as long as university, but I will have that political awareness all my life. Of course I tempered it with experience, especially when I ended up 'sleeping with the enemy'.
When the Bahji on the Beach film came out, it was quite radical for its time, dealing with domestic abuse. It was perceived by some of the more conservative male members of the community as washing dirty linen in public. Older men picketed the cinemas, but to be honest, I think those elements have really died down. There is a lot more acknowledgement and acceptance about what we can talk about. Certainly, old men don't throw tomatoes at me in Tesco any more.
I like the way that men, on the whole, if they have an issue with each other, just say it. They shout and punch a wall, but five minutes later it is forgotten. I don't like psychological, vindictive tactics, which women are really good at. Why can't they just have a punch up and forget it?
I have to admit to an innate, prudish admiration for men's ability to fix things. I do get a really big thrill whenever I see a man putting something up. It is almost magical to me.