Nothing is Natural

Don’t give me a diamond necklace. You wouldn’t want car parts or a toolbox from me, would you? Give me some new roller skating wheels and some paintbrushes, and I’ll know you understand me. Flowers aren’t so bad though…
Don’t treat me like a woman; treat me like me.
You’re shorter and smaller than me; you haven’t thrown a punch in your life, so why the hell would I expect you to be the protector? And I don’t share your damned taste buds, so let me sip the wine before ordering. I’m capable of pulling out my own chair. If I get to the door first and hold if open for you, don’t tackle me in an attempt to take my place. There’s nothing in your biology that makes you better at opening a door, and there’s certainly nothing in my genes that makes me want to wash your underwear. I’m sure you don’t want to mow the lawn all the time either; you have allergies, and I don’t. I actually like to cook, but maybe you should wash dishes instead of doing the “man” jobs, like watching TV and changing light bulbs. Unlike you, I can reach the light without a step ladder.

Don’t get scared when I make the first move. You aren’t a natural hunter, and I don’t pick berries; our ancestors were tertiary scavengers. Don’t buy my meal unless we’re rotating. Wouldn’t you be uncomfortable if I paid for your meal on every date? I’m economically independent, so your financial chivalry is a waste. In fact, all chivalry is a waste, and it’s infantilizing to someone like me. I’m not a child; I’m a woman.

You can’t fix a car, and I can’t sew. I like to play with swords and knives; you are a pacifist. I crawl into a hole when I’m upset; you like to talk about your feelings. I’m not from Venus; Venus is a bimbo. And if you were from Mars, you’d be the runt because those guys drink their own testosterone, while you piddle on your guitar, writing about how angry and sensitive you are.

Being a man is being everything a woman apparently isn’t. Everything negative is me. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. You should be just as offended as me. Calling you a woman shouldn’t be anymore of an insult than if you called yourself a man. We’re both capable of crudity, aggression, lust, and derangement; we’re both nurturing, honest, confident, and caring. Don’t give me a double standard, and I won’t give you one.

I like kids, but I like work. We both have jobs outside the home, so the home is our job too, not just mine. I don’t expect you to breastfeed, but you could do some of the housework. I wouldn’t dump the kid on you, so you shouldn’t dump the kid on me.

Don’t tell me you’re more logical because you’re a man. I bet that speeding ticket you got this morning was a result of your calm, collected reaction to waking up late. And don’t tell me I’m more emotional because I’m a woman. How many women commit suicide or go on shooting sprees? Yeah, I’m emotional, but so are you. Why are you offended when I say that you are sweet and soft? Strength is when you transcend your given role, has nothing to do with how many pounds you can bench-press or how tall you are.

I love you, and you love me. I’m good at things, and you’re good things. If there’s nothing complementary about our skills, then it should be a struggle for both of us. Nothing is ultimately natural in this world.