Showing posts with label strong women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strong women. Show all posts

Friday, July 7, 2017

Two Words

Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 13 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My “Secret Subject” is:

Mad because of toothpaste and toilet seat lids? Think again.

You are volunteering for a women’s charity. Today one lady tells you about her exhaustion and frustration. She feels all the housework, social activities and kids care are on her shoulders, and all her husband ever does is hang out on the couch, play with his phone and expect her to take care of everything. What are you telling her?

It was submitted by: http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/ 

oh boy was I the right person for this one 

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I am fairly certain if any woman comes to me describing a scenario in which their partner is pulling less than 50% of the labor, both physical and emotional, my brain will be in such a swirl of variations of the word fuck that I will at least be momentarily speechless trying to sort through to find just the right iteration for the extreme fuckery going down at their house

Two more words will probably filter through the f bombs.

Dump. Him.

To me, nothing else really needs to be said, but it’s a much more complex issue than those two words make it seem.

For the longest time, marriage was more or less a business arrangement. Wealthier people arranged marriages that benefited each family. Kings and queens rarely loved one another taking a spouse that would create a needed relationship with another kingdom/country or arranging marriages for their children which would do the same. Average folks needed one person to work and one person to tend to the home and children, and in the vast majority of societies, the responsibilities were split with men working outside farming, or, after industrialization, outside the home and women tending the home. It made sense with women needing time to recover after children and being responsible for breastfeeding children. Women’s labor was never as valued as men’s nor were women treated as equals. But that proved to be a mistake in wars that sent increasing numbers of men off to fight and in need of a larger labor force to supply demand for both soldiers abroad and civilians at home. It was women that worked the factories to meet those needs—the same women still at home taking care of everything that needed doing. Women have fought for the right to vote, the right to own property and work, to study whatever they chose wherever they chose to do it, to exist in this world as more than homemakers and objects to be owned and used. The idea of equality between genders has caused a lot of bloodshed with women powering through anyway knowing how worthy we were of those rights.

We’re still fighting for the ability to exist in spaces without being paid less, to get where we need to go without being hounded on the street, to be believed instead of seen as hysterical, to be partners not caretakers for our partners, and to be appreciated for everything we do, and this situation is still far too common in families today. Women are doing 40% more of the household chores, are less likely to be able to engage in sports or hobbies on any given day, and spend twice as much time physically caring for children on any given day. And, at least in American, most people still feel like that’s the way it should be regardless of who works and how much. Even if both partners are working full time, even though more and more women are the breadwinners for their families, people still generally believe that chores, children, and emotional labor belongs almost solely to women. But why?

Splitting household chores is one of the top factors in whether a couple rates their marriage or relationship a happy one or not. Top 3. More than half of people rate splitting chores as very important to succeeding in a relationship. The less balance there is when it comes to responsibilities the more problematic a person might rate their marriage.

Women run households. They make budgets, plan meals, notice the things the family needs, make schedules, learn, delegate. Women are almost always working to better their households or at least maintain them far more than their male counterparts *even when household chores are evenly split.

I would tell this woman that she does even more than either of them realize, and that if she wants her marriage to work long-term, if she can still envision her happily ever after with this person through the haze of resentment and stress this imbalance has caused, then the first step is counseling. They’re in a pattern, a cycle of sorts. They’re locked in, and it won’t be easy to break through it without help to deconstruct the pattern and take out the parts that don’t work anymore. Simply delegating chores more often without discussing why they’re locked in this pattern in the first place could create more resentment on his side and is honestly where the “nag” trope comes in for women—asking repeatedly for the help they need while their male counterparts feel entitled to more free time and freedom from the workload.

I would absolutely tell her everything she is feeling is valid, that there is absolutely no reason why she should shoulder the brunt of the work while her husband lounges even if he is the sole income earner. Sure, that means the workload is trickier to evenly divide, but that division should still be equal. Child care should always be equal. The emotional, invisible labor should be equal.

And if he refuses counseling?

Boy, bye.

Fucking dump him.

Here are some resources on some of these issues:

http://time.com/2895235/men-housework-women/

http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-37941191

https://www.theatlantic.com/sexes/archive/2013/03/the-difference-between-a-happy-marriage-and-miserable-one-chores/273615/

http://time.com/money/4561314/women-work-home-gender-gap/

http://www.aauw.org/research/the-simple-truth-about-the-gender-pay-gap/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/psyched-in-san-francisco/why-women-are-tired-the-p_b_9619732.html

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Here are the rest of the submissions. Enjoy!

Baking In A Tornado http://www.bakinginatornado.com/2017/07/secret-obligation-secret-subject-swap.html

Cognitive Script https://cognitivescript.blogspot.com/

The Blogging 911 http://theblogging911.com/blog

The Lieber Family Blog http://thelieberfamily.com

The Bergham Chronicles http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com

Simply Shannon http://shannonbutler.org

Southern Belle Charm http://www.southernbellecharm.com

Never Ever Give Up Hope http://batteredhope.blogspot.com

The Angrivated Mom http://www.angrivatedmom.wordpress.com/

Not That Sarah Michelle http://notthatsarahmichelle.blogspot.com

Bookworm in the Kitchen http://www.bookwormkitchen.com/

Part-time Working Hockey Mom http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/

Friday, May 12, 2017

I've Got This

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

My words are: blue line, stick, bad jibs, forward, barn burner, top shelf
They were submitted by: http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/

Fair warning, this is a tough subject and I didn't try to go easy on it. This is absolutely fiction in the way that this kind of thing happens way too often, but this exact thing didn't happen to me. Also, trigger warning: sexual assault. 
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I lean forward staring at the little white stick with its lavender-colored cap and will it to have the answer I want, need really. “Just one little blue line please, pretty please,” I whisper out loud in the bathroom. “Just one.”

The tears that have been precariously waiting to fall start flowing then with no holds barred. The room blurs making it impossible to read my future on the drugstore pregnancy test, an off-brand because ohmygodIcan’tevenaffordanEPT. I know without even being able to see the mirror across the room that this is a full on OITNB-Piper ugly cry with earthquake sobs and a flash flood of snot.

I’m not ready for this.

I can’t even handle being in my own skin these days. I can’t shower enough trying to get rid of every last skin cell he touched.” He” being the man who attacked me, the guy I met online who said I was the most beautiful creature he had ever met, that said all the right things. We’d even gone out once before, met in public just to be safe. His idea actually. But the second time, I went back to his place for a glass of wine after out public meet up, and next thing I know I was waking up naked in his bed the next morning.

I know without a doubt that I have no idea what to do with myself right now much less a baby from a night I can’t remember and sex I couldn’t possibly have agreed to…

That next morning after I woke up sore and dizzy, he acted like nothing happened. While I was still coming to the realization that SOMETHING definitely happened to my body, he called me sleepyhead and handed me a coffee. Before I could even run to the bathroom to check myself over, he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek making me gag. He giggled. The man actually giggled at my wretching and asked if I had always been such a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

I am, was, his to use and also the butt of the joke.

So how am I supposed to make it through this when I can’t even figure out where I go from here? What if the kid is a boy with bad jibs like his…like…what if he doesn’t look like me and every day is a reminder of a night I can’t remember and don’t want to remember. Or what if it’s a girl and every single day I am terrified that she will be hit randomly with a fuzzy memory of a man on top of her, slapping her across the face and calling her a dirty slut? What if…what if I can’t go through with this and have to end it? How can I live with that for the rest of my life? But how can I live with it if I don’t? What if he asks for custody? For fucking visitation rights.

The timer on my phone dings letting me know it’s time to check this thing, my future. I splash water on my face hoping it will at least give me enough of a reprieve from the emotional rollercoaster I’m on for me to see. I grab a towel, dry my face, and search my eyes in the mirror.

I’ve got this.

I reach for the thing where I dropped it by the toilet, frantic and determined.

I’ve got this.

It’s just one line.

IT’SJUSTONELINE

One.

Blue.

Line.

I know sitting there on my knees in front of the toilet that I’m going to have an emotional breakdown. And I also know that I’m going to be fine, and I would have been fine no matter how many lines appeared on this fucking thing, but…BUT, I am also going to throw one hell of a barnburner tonight once I pull myself together. It might end up being just me, but that just means more top shelf liquor I don’t have to share.

I’ve got this.

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Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:

Baking In A Tornado http://www.bakinginatornado.com

Spatulas on Parade http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/

The Blogging 911 http://theblogging911.com

On the Border http://dlt-lifeontheranch.blogspot.com/

Bookworm in the Kitchen http://www.bookwormkitchen.com/

The Bergham Chronicles http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com

Simply Shannon http://shannonbutler.org

Southern Belle Charm http://www.southernbellecharm.com

Confessions of a part-time working mom http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch/