I am thinking hard these days about gender roles. I say I am a strong woman that no one takes care of me, and my cousins poo poo me. One day Meg you will find a man who will want to work by your side. Or have you forgotten about our cousin Will who takes care of you? He would be mad if he saw that you are denying him. Or an email from the daughter’s father telling me if I want a man I cannot say I actually want to have sex, and that I have to appear more womanly. Ah crap. What does it all mean?
What if I don’t find a man? What then? Should I walk about whining about how my light bulbs aren’t getting changed, my driveway isn’t getting shoveled and my lawn isn’t getting mowed? Will it make me more womanly to put out a sign, “poor female living alone needs a man to take care of her“? Is that all that is missing for me to find true happiness, and love? What kind of man is actually intimidated by a woman, who by necessity has to do it all herself? And as for said cousin I told him this and he laughed and swore and told me he doesn’t F____ing “take care” of me, he helps me out when I ask. He says that I am not the kind of woman who needs taking care of. But then in the night, when I want strong arms to hold me, and yes when I genuinely want the physical intimacy of sex, and sometimes when I am tired, yes I do want – WANT someone to take care of me. But and here it is in black and white, no one is taking care of me. I have to make the best of it. And honestly I am not alone in the world, I help out my people, my friends, and from time to time yes they help me. Random acts of kindness (calling the owner of a loose dog last year) pay off (he plowed the super heavy stuff out of the end of my driveway the other day), but should I be acting all coy and weak and helpless and like a neighbor woman who ineffectually grunts and then gives up and who knows how she gets her driveway shoveled. We have nicknamed her Cell Phone Girl, and her untrained dog literally drags her around the neighborhood, belly on the ground (the woman not the dog) when he sees another dog. Maybe one of her cell phone friends. I can hear the conversation now. Hi Bill, this is Meg. Whats up you juicey thing. He he, hey honey can you come over to my house and shovel out my driveway. Shovel your own damn driveway, I am tired and have to do my own driveway. Okay then, lets do dinner this weekend. You got it sweetheart call me on Saturday. Love you, mean it bye. But yes he did drive to my house in a snow storm and take me to the hospital while my neighbors dug out the driveway last year.
Its one of those things where you, in your heart of hearts want someone to go hiking with you, someone to make dinner with you and watch a movie, you want sex (apologies this doesn’t mean I want it with anyone and everyone, just one steady guy who has proven himself to be good and decent and considerate and my friend), and maybe even someone who surprises me with a shovel out stops by to help me do mine before he does his own. But if that doesn’t happen, I would be a weak pathetic fool to sit back and whine and complain about it. It needs done and who else exactly is going to do it?
I have to make it clear. I am a strong woman, I take care of myself, I am independent, I am strong willed, and yes I like sex…
Why does that make me less of a woman? And why does that some how prove that I am a whore?