The Lies We Believe

“Behind a great man, there’s a great woman.”

“The man is the head of the household, but the woman is the neck.”

Odds are, if you are a woman, you’ve been told these and countless other phrases that promise that even though men run the world, we’re the ones pulling the strings. What a load of bullshit.

These phrases, along with the ideology that drives them, is one that’s been used to keep girls and women alike where society thinks they belong. Even the promise of gender equality we’ve been raised to believe is hollow. The act of saying something is true does not make it so. When we start realizing that this promise fails to deliver results, when we start waking up from the haze, we start questioning the status quo. That’s when these maxims come in from all around. We believe them, because we want to believe that there’s a world where women and men can be equal, where women are as respected as men. We start telling ourselves that even though men appear to have all the power, we’re the clever puppeteers. We’re the face behind the smoke and mirrors, and that’s alright, or at least that’s what we tell ourselves.

The problem with these maxims, these ideologies, is that a woman can’t claim the spotlight. There’s no space for a woman to shine in these ideologies. Our work is behind the scenes, we’re expected to do it, and we’re expected to bow our heads down and do it. As an avid reader of dating books, I don’t know how many times I’ve read that a woman should always make sure her man feels manly enough by praising, or else his libido might suffer. While this may be true, the fact remains that the focus of being a successful woman, even in a relationship, depends on doting upon the man. A man is set up as being the gazer and a woman exists as an accessory; a man is the success story, while the woman is a silent partner in his success.

What about women? What about our success? What about our libido? Maybe we’d be more into sex, more willing to go to bed with a partner or spouse that pays that favor back, someone who makes us feel great, who supports our rights to be equal, someone who is willing to do their fair share in the household.

If we buy into the ideology of these maxims, what we end up believing is that there’s not a woman who can stand on her own and shine through her merits. We are taught that we have to wait for a man to come along, mold him to what we think he should be and cleverly pull the strings. If this were true, it wouldn’t be fair to the men either.

However, I’m not implying that a partnership, a marriage or a relationship can’t bring out the best in each other. Successful relationships do this. What I am arguing is that if, as women, we keep holding on to our beliefs that we control the world behind the scenes, we’re in for a rude awakening. We are letting an outdated notion of our place in society dictate who we become and the choices we make along the way. If we hold onto these lies, then we’re not advancing our cause. Wouldn’t it be a better example to our daugthers, our peers, and other women if we were able to shine without being afraid of being disliked?

Conversations with my Mother

Last Saturday, I awoke to six e-mails and seven text messages from my mother, along with a hyperactive and hungry puppy that wouldn't let me sleep in. All texts and e-mails were wedding related.

I cursed the moment I showed her how to work her e-mail and text pictures.

Instead of replying (really, I should know better), I just hoped that I could ignore these as long as humanly possible. Ideally, until after the wedding was over and done with.

Three missed calls and a facebook message later, I knew I had to answer the phone at some point prior to the wedding, or else my mother's next line of defense was going to be facebook messaging my fiance so that he could get me to call her. I picked up my phone and dialed for torture.

"Hi mom, is everything ok?" I asked in hopes that she wasn't calling me to discuss something wedding-related.

Little did I know, it wasn't wedding related. It was something worse.

"Oh, yeah. What are you up to?" she replied.

"Nothing. Just sitting here with the pup. You know, my usual."

"I see. Did you see the e-mails I sent you at 2 AM?"

"Haven't had a chance to read them," I replied cringing at my blatant lie. "What are you up to?"

"I'm here at the mall. You won't believe who I just ran into."

"Oh no"

"Oh yes"

"No, no, no, no, no, no. You did not."

"Oh, not him. His mother."

She had ran into my ex fiance's mom. Great. Just peachy.

"What did you tell her?" I asked sweetly so that she wouldn't be defensive.

"Nothing."

Crickets. I could hear crickets over that awkward pause.

"What. Did. YOU. Tell. HER?"

"Oh, nothing. That you were getting married soon. That's all," she replied breezily.

Only my mother, folks. Only my mother.

"She asked about you, about how you were doing. And I said that. And then she asked about the groom, and I said he was fantastic. And I didn't ask her about him. I didn't want to know anything about him. His sister was there, too. And you know how they don't get along," she kept blabbering. The sister thing I knew; in fact, it was one of the biggest red flags in our relationship. "So then I kept looking at her and her smile kept getting bigger and bigger. Like she couldn't wait to say something about you getting married. It was gold."

"Ok, mom."

"But man, I wish I would run into him. I want to ream him out, tell him how awful he is."

"Mom, mom, mom, mom. No. If you run into him, you don't say anything. You don't want him to feel important."

"Really, you think so?"

"I know him. It'll just make him feel like he's worth something. Just ignore him if you want to hurt him. Trust me."

"I guess."

Who wants to bet she'll be petty and mean to him if they cross paths again?

The Biggest Con

The promise of having it all is the biggest con of all.

From an early point in my childhood, teachers and adult figures all around praised my sassy, intelligent and oftentimes loud-mouthed self; these figures encouraged me to live up to my potential, find something to be passionate about and exploit that passion. They told me that if I jumped through certain hoops I could "make it;" I could have it all (whatever that means).

Here I am, after jumping through several hoops, years of successful school, higher education, and with several diplomas and work experience under my belt with a sour aftertaste in my mouth. Those promises? Yeah, they're a little bit like artificial sweetener. Though my life is certainly not horrible, I am far away from having it all (unless having it all means having ten dollars leftover from my paycheck on a monthly basis after I pay for gas, insurance, car, cell-phone, rent, student loans, and credit cards).

I guess it could be worse, but that doesn't mean it couldn't be better. The problem, ladies and gentlemen, is that having it all is the biggest con we have dreamed up for ourselves. We keep working hard, studying late at night, and neglecting ourselves to the point of exhaustion for a shot at having it all.

Then, those same adults who encouraged me to jump through hoops keep dreaming up new hoops I have to jump through in order to attain some imaginary degree of success. It's the millennial conundrum, the rules keep changing, the older generations call us lazy and entitled (no matter how hard we work), and we keep getting more and more unemployable because we're "lazy and entitled" as a generation.

With student debt rising to an all-time high and people continuing to return to college for a shot at a better future, I keep wondering when the hoops are going to be over and done with. I can't afford to work an internship when I have to work two jobs in order to make ends meet. I guess I could forgo sleep altogether, but I imagine that would impact my productivity and focus. Just a thought.

I sit here typing this and wonder how many people are going through a similar scenario. I would wager a lot of us are, no matter our generation. So having it all? We'd be better off understanding that it's not what we thought it would look like. In fact, it's the biggest con of all.

Becoming the Educated Slut

When I started this blog, I was angry, confused, and thrust into the sometimes vomit-inducing waters of dating for the first time in six years. My ex-fiancé had broken up with me because the long-distance relationship was too much for him to handle (though I'm pretty sure it was because his penis wanted to get to know other ladies) without any reason as to why this just "wasn't working" (i.e., his penis just wasn't having any of it). 

To say that the rug had been pulled under me is an understatement. However, I had no problem validating myself in dating other guys quickly thereafter. But dating disasters alone weren't enough for me to warrant the blog. This came later on, when in a moment of weakness and tears, I called my ex and begged him to take me back (after he had flown to see me during Thanksgiving and I was all, thanks, but no thanks I will not be getting back together with you). It was then when he said sure, then backed out, then said yes again (all in a one and a half hour conversation), and I said, um, no thanks. I will not have this flip-flopping going around. So that was that.

A week later, I received an e-mail where he assessed my character of being a stupid slut (because I admitted I had been on one date with a guy and he kissed me. Just that). Then the blog began as a tongue-in-cheek categorization. I mean, if I'm going to be a slut, I'm going to be an educated one, right? So, yeah, that's about it. That's why this blog exists. That and I needed a safe, anonymous place in a corner of the internet where no one would recognize who I am. I also didn't want my ex to know anything about my life.

And now? I'd say writing and time have made me ok again, though I'm still confused. Aren't we all? 

On Dead-End Relationships (loose definition of relationships being used here)

It's happened to all of us, to the best of us. We tell ourselves that if we hang around enough a non-committal guy, he will want a relationship with us (even if he told us that he's not looking for anything serious). There are varying degrees of this scenario, maybe the guy we're into just got out of a long-term relationship, isn't that into us, maybe he's just a womanizing jerk who operates under full transparency, he was abducted by aliens, his mother didn't love him enough, his mother loved him too much, or [insert worthless excuse here]. I've dated --loose definition-- all of them (and in some cases, I've been a jerk too --it's not just guys who are capable of this). 

Any time I started seeing any variation of this guy, it started relatively the same. Sometimes I didn't even like the guys so much. Though everything started on my terms and I was determined to be a casual dater (ha), my imagination kept over-processing every moment and projecting it into seeing myself married to these guys who just wanted to get laid (double ha, something they're still waiting on from me). However, once the innate desire to mold a man into what I wanted him to be and perhaps a need of validation through someone else kicked in, I always found myself investing myself far too much in what I knew were dead-end relationships. I knew I should cut my losses and leave, but the feeling that there might be something else down the road never really let me go as quickly as I should have.

Why is it that we get so attached to people who, for some reason or other, aren't for us? Why do we convince ourselves that we can change someone else's mind? I mean, I know we're pretty fabulous people, but sticking around when someone clearly doesn't want to give us what we want (even if we lie to ourselves saying that we want something casual --been there, done that) isn't adding much to our sense of self-worth (and preservation --it's the survival of the least emotionally-invested out there). And, hey, dating's a numbers game. Sometimes you're going to want to be with people who aren't really looking for your kind of wonderful. Other times people are going to want to date you when you aren't quite feeling it. However, once in a blue moon, you are going to want to date someone who is looking for your kind of wonderful. And that's just, well, magic (and sparkles, rainbows, and whatever Taylor Swift sings about).

Hi Chris Pine! What do you mean you don't want me to get hurt?
Of course I want something completely casual! I mean, it's not like I'm planning our wedding, naming our unborn children or imagining how you'd look when we're both old. I haven't done any of that at all. P.S. Do you think Andrea is a nice girl name? Why? NO REASON.

Knowing what I know now, there's no better feeling than someone telling you they want to be with just you from the get-go when you also want to be with them. Even then, I've jumped into my fair share of short-term insanity couplings. The reason why I even got into these dead-end flirtationships was because I craved the thrill of the unknown (but that gets old pretty quickly when you find out he's dating like twenty other girls, too). Call me old-fashioned, but when you're looking for someone to share your life with (and not just fill up a void) I'd rather have someone who wants to be on my team, rather than someone I begged, convinced and bargained for him to be on my team despite his many reservations (and bullshit excuses).

Birthdays

Sometimes it feels like I'm drowning.

I'm turning a year closer to thirty next week. This particular birthday only goes on to remind me of those things I have not yet achieved in my life, things that I had set to the "by the time I'm thirty" timetable. Now I'm lucky if I manage to not be homeless by the time I'm thirty.

I would love to be on a path where I could build a career, but instead took on a job I am overqualified for. Now, I'm stuck at a thankless job that pays more than minimum wage, but not nearly as much as someone with a MA degree and experience in writing would require. Then there's my teaching job, which I love, but sucks out all the energy out of me. With the economy doing as badly as it has been recently and my student loans crippling my soul, how am I ever supposed to "make it"? I try not to lose faith, I try not to succumb to the depression I keep feeling hovering over me.

How much longer of this will I be able to take?

How many more resumes am I going to have to send out?

Turning into a (Wedding Planning) Monster

I've become one of those girls, the ones who can only articulate opinions about their upcoming nuptials. I insist that this has not been a voluntary change, and that if given the option, I would love to talk about things that do not include centerpieces, tables, chairs, venues, flowers, and wedding favors. But I can't. It's just impossible.

Everywhere I look, I'm reminded of wedding planning (my mother's incessant texts aren't helping, either) and the internet is a rabbit hole of wedding options. Wedding blogs are my new thing, apparently. As in, blogs that cover weddings and feature pictures of happy couples.

Sigh.

I spent two hours last night painting a groom peg doll for our cake topper. You know what I could have been doing instead? Sleeping.

I am not fit for social contact anymore (even less than I previously was).


Wedding planning: 8
Me: 0