The problem with relationships: let's start with questioning assumptions

Earlier this year when I hadn't gotten the carpool thing worked out yet, I was dependant on taxis to get to and from campus. The dispatcher, Rob, called me sometimes even when the conversation didn't involve a taxi. By summer, he'd quit his job.

I wasn't looking to hook up with Rob, but I'm always open to meeting new people with the hope of seeing where that particular friendship will lead. (And we understand, right, that when I talk about friends, I mean it strictly in platonic terms?) So I didn't discourage the communication, though I suspected he was horny since, for whatever reason, I only attract men who are hard up.

Rob and I finally met face to face when he arrived as my driver for the MARC station. Of course, it was very early and I was nervous about being by myself this first time. So Rob treated me to a breakfast at the Waffle House and then waited with me until the train arrived. Before we parted, I gave him a quick hug.

Rob had, by that time, already shown that he didn't follow-through on things he said. That is, his actions didn't often match his words; thus, if I'd been open to a dating possibility, he was already written off. With friends, however, I don't assume anything about the person; anything goes unless they choose not to be involved with me anymore or do something that goes against me (like lying).

I've known people like Rob before; they call every now and then, and sometimes you go out and do things but usually after a few months have passed. Like I said, friends are different; there are no expectations on my end since I'm just getting to know someone who may or may not stick around. (The benefit I get from hanging out with people is that sometimes I get sparked with an idea for a project I want to work on, or gain knowledge about something I never thought about before then, etc.)

For whatever reason, this semester Rob called more frequently. We'd talked about doing a movie, but then he didn't get back with me about it. I'd suggested that we go to the fair together, but he bailed. As a last resort - because my back was pained and sore from the soccer canoeing I did the previous Fri. - I asked him for a massage, and he wasn't willing to give up 10-15 minutes. (My landlord's wife, a retired nurse, very fortunately came through for me and by Tues., I was fine; earlier that day, I had trouble moving my neck and arm.)

Okay, so whatever. I called Rob to say hi tonight and we got into an argument which inspired tonight's question about what I expect out of a relationship with a guy. By the end of that - after being explicitly clear about not wanting to date, marry, have sex, and cook or clean for a guy - Rob hung up on me. His contention before that was: "You'll never get a guy."

So then I thought about what was said. I used to think that what I wanted was for the guy to not only pay for everything, but also, assuming we got married, to cook and clean for the both of us. Because of Rob, however, I realized how wrong I was, because it's not about any one person cooking or cleaning for the other person.

Then I thought: Why do we expect either person in a relationship (remember, I'm heterosexual, so I often think in terms of men and women; but this doesn't mean that what I say can't be applied to other arranged couples) to cook and clean for both people? Rob said: "It should be 50/50." That is, the guy should cook and clean for the woman, and the woman should cook and clean for the guy.

My response was no, a guy should never expect me to cook and clean for him. What I didn't share with him because he was by then angry: First, I don't know how to cook except basic foods like cheeseburgers, etc. Secondly, on the rare times I cooked for other people, I was exhausted by the amount of work involved. Finally, while we as social beings have progressed in our thinking, the general assumption is that women will cook and clean even when we work full-time and contribute as mothers. However, I refuse to be stereotyped; if a guy even thinks I should want to cook for him, he's boxing me into a position which many women have worked for years to overcome, though we continue to reify presumptions about our bodies and traditional roles.

Because of the conversation with Rob, what I came to accept is: (1) I won't cook and/or clean for someone else; (2) I don't expect someone else to cook and/or clean for me. (Yes, in a dating situation, I maintain that the guy must pay for everything.) If I'm in a relationship with a guy and we end up married (and this will, again, never happen), we can both cook and clean for ourselves - that is, as individual persons. I mean, isn't that we would've been doing before marriage?

Now, if he's someone who likes to cook not just for himself but for other people, I don't have a problem with him cooking for me. However, he can't expect the same in return because I don't like cooking and most definitely not for anyone else. If he's also someone who likes doing laundry, he's welcome to do my laundry (except for my undergarments, which I clean by hand when I shower) should he so wish; otherwise, he does his laundry, and I do mine, etc.

Of course, Rob's insistence that it must be "50/50" brings with it the assumption that a woman has an obligation to cook and clean. Let's make it clear: No, we don't. Marriage isn't about being one person; you're still individuals. If I come into a relationship with no interest in cooking, a guy can't expect me to cook for him; otherwise, we're not going to work. As I said, I'm a feminist.

Because I have nothing to lose by being alone, I'm not threatened by the men who still hold women to specific values wrapped inside prejudices concerning our femininities. As for me, I don't wear dresses, make-up, nail polish, perfume, jewelry and bras (yes, I've been braless through the semester thus far which I'll talk about in a later post). Oh, and I stopped wearing deodorant and don't brush my hair. Also, while I continue to shave my underarms, my hairy legs remain. Otherwise, I'm still fat and ugly, and very strongly my own person - I mean, hello?

Yes, my standards are high. And because of that, I don't compromise. If relationships require compromising for the other, I don't need or want to be so involved. It's simple, really: I require a guy who's open about people and who doesn't have anything to prove. That's what it comes down to: being who you are even if it means being alone - and I ask: What's so scary about that? For an individual, sacrifice is nothing - and that's what I'm suggesting about us women: We need to reach a point when we can accept ourselves as individuals first.

Women and the Image of Domesticity

A while ago, it occurred to me why single women need useless things. So it happens I had a roommate in Michigan who housed furniture but seldom used what she bought. The week before she moved out of our apartment, her lover installed a dining room set for her. Because I lived with her, I knew her latest acquisition was for show. After all, she rarely ate in the apartment.

That's when I understood what was involved in her choices: the image of domesticity. I don't mean to single her out, because I think it's true of most women on the market for marriage. We've grown up with images of weddings and expectations of family living, and, more importantly, we've talked about these issues in terms of patriarchy, the power derived from our fertility, and so forth.

It's like this: imagine you're dating a potential prospect. What's going to make you stand out from the competition? If we believe the statistics available to us, we as a gender outnumber the men. Therefore, every woman who needs a husband to feel accepted in a society that still privileges couples (even in the corporate world, a promotion may implicitly require a ring) needs to show her lovers she's wiferly.

Don't we use terms like motherly and fatherly? So why not wiferly? What I'm suggesting by that term is that in defining our relationships with our significant others - for those wishing ceremonial betrothals - we seek to promote ourselves as the most ideal mates. Though many men today contribute more toward the household (housecleaning, babysitting, etc.) - even though, historically, we may be surprised that men have always done so - we women continue to be associated with the private sphere before anything else.

Thus, if we're creating masks to give the illusion of ourselves as wives, when do we get to be who we are? It remains my belief that only those who see us visibly and without pretension are right for us. Let's face it: If we're working this hard just to secure a symbol, what's the point when our façades crack and we're confronted with someone who suddenly realizes we're not who we pretended to be? Those behaviors are why I think adultery will always be a part of the human landscape.

Until we risk breaking our own mirrors, we'll continue in delusional states that deny us what's already ours: our selves. Why else do we cover up our blemishes with make-up, concealments, and other accessories if not so our compris(ed)ing partners associate us with health? A healthy woman, after all, is supposed to conceive strong children. If she also shows an interest in her abode, she will look after her family. Of course, there are many other stereotypes.

Therefore, unless you can recognize your actions, you have no choice but to question everything you do. If, however, we allow the image of domesticity to conceal us from our motives, we only have ourselves to blame if/when we realize we're unhappy in a union predicated on sales(wo)manship. Then again, should you follow my advice, you may end up like me: relationship(-)less for a lifetime - but free. As for me, I'm all about being an individual first.