Shannen and I were joking about suits and her never being around for her son again. She said, "He has to expect that if he wants bread on the table."
But there is something that has bothered me since two years ago, a year ago, and in the present it is still bothering me. For some reason talking to Shannen reminded me of it. WHO PAYS FOR THE FOOD.
I thought my "mini-identity crisis" was put so well in this article, "My Inner Feminist vs. My Inner Princess."
http://hellogiggles.com/my-inner-femini ... -princess/
I actually felt in a huff and walked out of the restaurant quickly with him following me and he said, "Is something wrong? You seem like you're in a funk." I SAID EVERYTHING WAS OK!!!
I feel her pain And I know I'm such a flip flop with this that I do something different every time, sometimes obviously putting my card down before the waiter arrives, to jumping in with my card and ordering for myself, to not doing anything at all, even though I said I like it when he pays and I actually do like it.
I have to sort out my identity...
Maybe it's different for me a little because I get us chocolates to eat and get him little gifts often, unlike the girl in the article. I also get him nerdy puns that he puts up on his office wall and he uses my llama covers for his work binders. So it's not about "oh he's always doing things for me" kind of thing or any sort of guilt I have. I think it's more of the identity thing.
But food thing continually trips me up. I don't know what it is about it that I have this little tug of war in me. IT HAS BEEN FOR YEARS.
I'm psyching myself out for exams even though they're a month away. I'm actually going to bed wondering about partnership law and asking random questions to myself about it. This is not good (or cool) IT'S OK ADELA YOU GOT THIS AHHH.
But there is something that has bothered me since two years ago, a year ago, and in the present it is still bothering me. For some reason talking to Shannen reminded me of it. WHO PAYS FOR THE FOOD.
I thought my "mini-identity crisis" was put so well in this article, "My Inner Feminist vs. My Inner Princess."
http://hellogiggles.com/my-inner-femini ... -princess/
I actually suggested we go half and half with Richard once, I was feeling generous and I wanted to do that, and he said sure and I felt like this wave of gloom right afterwards, even though I actually spontaneously wanted to do that.A few months ago I went on my first date with a nice gentleman I had met through mutual friends. When it came time to pay for the bill, I fought long and hard—as I always do—and to my surprise, he let me pay for dinner. At first I was like, oh okay – that’s kinda cool, I guess he respects my independence and I dig that. About thirty seconds later, I decided there wouldn’t be a second date. No goodnight kiss. Nothing. Ever. It was over before it even began.
I started questioning my identity. Why did I fight to pay for the bill then feel disappointed? In a society where generations have worked so hard to gain equality for women, are there still rules? Can we have expectations? Did feminism kill chivalry?
I can see the fence and you are split in half. On one side, I’ve got my I-am-woman-hear-me-roar sisters cheering me on for paying on the first date—the rest of you have a look of utter disgust and thought bubbles that read: Umm, NO.
Okay seriously, I’m pretty scary and I threatened him, but the truth is, I did want him to pay – I wanted him to fight back and say: “No, sweetheart, thank you for offering but my mama would kill me if she found out I let a pretty girl pay for dinner.†Now I know that sounds like a 1950s movie line spoken by the typical chauvinistic womanizer, but that’s how I envisioned that situation going down. Stop judging me.
My mini identity crisis led me to believe that most of us still want the best of both worlds. We want to be strong, independent and equal to our male counterparts while being treated like princesses once in a while (or more often than not). It’s also safe to say that we’re not exactly sure what we want, and we’re probably sending mixed signals. I mean, I literally fought him to pay—I gave him a very convincing speech while staring into his soul—what was the poor guy supposed to do?
I actually felt in a huff and walked out of the restaurant quickly with him following me and he said, "Is something wrong? You seem like you're in a funk." I SAID EVERYTHING WAS OK!!!
I feel her pain And I know I'm such a flip flop with this that I do something different every time, sometimes obviously putting my card down before the waiter arrives, to jumping in with my card and ordering for myself, to not doing anything at all, even though I said I like it when he pays and I actually do like it.
I have to sort out my identity...
Maybe it's different for me a little because I get us chocolates to eat and get him little gifts often, unlike the girl in the article. I also get him nerdy puns that he puts up on his office wall and he uses my llama covers for his work binders. So it's not about "oh he's always doing things for me" kind of thing or any sort of guilt I have. I think it's more of the identity thing.
But food thing continually trips me up. I don't know what it is about it that I have this little tug of war in me. IT HAS BEEN FOR YEARS.
I'm psyching myself out for exams even though they're a month away. I'm actually going to bed wondering about partnership law and asking random questions to myself about it. This is not good (or cool) IT'S OK ADELA YOU GOT THIS AHHH.