One of the things I look for in a spouse is the ability to cook and willingness to do so. I do not enjoy chores, never have, probably never will. Except laundry, I like washing and ironing.
Imagine growing up in a world without gender norms, in a household of men where because of your gender (the only female among four males), you were exempt from doing what is traditionally women’s work. My Father raised feminists, he would cook, or make the boys cook, I’m not sure it ever crossed his mind that I do. Don’t get it twisted, I can, but I won’t.
In very recent history, saying that kind of thing has turned away a guy who seemed pretty set on making me his "wife". It’s the kind of thing I say because 1, It’s true and 2, it weeds out the men with internalized sexist behaviour, the kind that are unwilling to unlearn. After a lengthy discussion, I asked him if he thinks he knows better than my father? “Are you saying my father raised me wrong?” All the men in my life are feminists. If you’re wondering, the point isn’t my unwillingness and inherent laziness to cook, if you don’t want to, we can always hire help for that, the point is the sexist attitude.
I used to be the kind of girl that reached for the bill without thinking, I used to date guys that saw no problems with this kind of thing. “You’ll get the next one.” It was the kind of thing I’d do to prove I'm self sufficient. My outward declaration of independence, and I did not want owe anyone anything, another valuable life lesson from dad.
My feminism stops at the bill and the bar, so goes my mantra for about 4 or so months during 2017 when I stopped paying and splitting bills on dates. I've learned that really doesn’t matter who pays, if that is your focus, you’re missing the point. This change was brought on by the realization, that regardless of who pays, some men are unwilling to change and I was tired of explaining myself. It’s 2018, how does anyone still subscribe to patriarchal doctrines? You see, when I started going out a lot on dates, I quickly discovered that “the plenty of fish in the sea” are actually slim balls. Men really are trash.
If I have to prove "my worth" to you by cooking and cleaning or if I have to pay a bill for you to believe that I am worthy to be a feminist, you’re the problem. The lesson my father tried to impart I believe, by teaching me how to cook but not requiring me to, the lesson he taught my brothers by requiring them to cook, is that no sex is inherently superior, I am not to allow any man to treat me less than human and the boys are not to treat any woman less than human.
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