It all started out as a harmless chat about motorcycles. He bragged about his, I bragged about my husband’s. Then he said that’s too easy, he does off-road, ’cause riding on tarmac is for 60-year-olds. I said I’d be glad to pass on this very useful piece of information, but don’t go putting ideas into my husband’s head, I don’t want him to croak and leave me alone with two mouths to feed (that is basically his contribution to our children’s education at this point).
“You women murder men’s freedom, that’s the truth of it”, he postulated. ” You bury us, both metaphorically and literally speaking.”
“Damn right we bury you”, I replied. “What would you rather have us do? Let you rot in a ditch?”
Haha. Seriously, who is killing whose freedom here? I’m a girl but I am as footloose as any man, I love my freedom, my mobility, my time, my privacy, and my independence just as much as any hairy fellow. All I dream about is to see the world, to meet the people, to do the deeds. Perhaps I’d like to ride that bike myself once in a while; heck, maybe I’d like to take it for a ride and never come back. And let you eat my dust. But I have to be a responsible mother. Somebody has to be.
See, if you’re a woman, you don’t really have a choice. I mean, you do, but it’s ten zillion times tougher on you, because there is that thing called biology. Biology never forgives. If you’re a woman, you are almost required to have kids. Because without them, you will not feel fulfilled in your higher calling. Because without them you will feel like an empty, useless shell that shrivels up like a raisin and dies pointless and alone. Or so you think. If you do not think that, don’t worry, the 10,000 other women around you will devote their every living moment to convincing you. There is an arduous competition going on among women and it concerns procreation and kids. And the thing is, even if what you like is your peace and quiet, your time for creative intellectual impulses such as reading, writing, studying, or your career, or your research, or your travels, once you have kids, you will find that you love them more. You won’t be able to help it. You will eventually love them more than any other living being on this planet. You will give up your freedoms and your pleasures for their sake and you might even engage in propagating the silly competition. So you sacrifice.
Men always complain about what clingers we are. Damn right we cling! What else is there to do when we’re practically jobless, financially dependent, and no longer enjoy any mobility or freedom of our own?! When our brain is jello after the chronic sleep-deprivation that comes with raising a couple of rowdy youngsters and trying to do a good job of it, too. Let me tell you, freedom lovers. Raising kids is like applying heat to firecrackers. They keep exploding in your hand. And we get the burns.
So yeah… Tough women take your freedom away, weak women are clingers. You basically want to conquer, but not govern – just pillage a little. Oh, and in the meantime we should wait patiently for your return. In case you ever return.
Let me get this straight: we should be independent and strong enough to face hardship alone (oh, generous master!) yet delicate and feminine, smart and sexy, tender and maternal, relaxed and understanding – and at the same time willing to fall for the likes of you???
Ahm… You still fail to see the flaw in this scenario?
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