There is currently a pile of dirty dishes in my sink that I haven't touched since Tuesday. Those were created because a co-worker of mine decided she wanted to cook in my kitchen and then the two of us pop open a bottle of wine and we have a sleepover. I know for a fact that zero of my windows have been cleaned since I moved in my house and I'm sure that's a true statement for some baseboards and door frames as well.
When my family was announcing our Thanksgiving Day plans, I put them on my calendar and I never questioned them. After I ate my fill of dressing and dumplins (each of my grandmothers' respective Thanksgiving delicacies), I returned to my Cute Little House and curled up with the book of the moment and had a peaceful evening.
I like this life, this life of mine; it's a good one.
While I was reading said book, the narrator switched over to the wife of the main character and she was analyzing her relationship in contrast to the relationships of her two best friends and their husbands. She and her two friends had met at a bar in Soho for cocktail hour and by the end of it, the two husbands had shown up to pay their respects, but not hers.
After receiving pitiful glances from the four pairs of eyes looking across at her, she begins a monologue about the dancing monkeys.
The dancing monkeys are the men whose women make them prove their love on a daily basis: do this chore; don't wear that, wear this instead; show up to cocktail hour so I can show you off to my friends; make sacrifices for the life that I want.
Before the specific list was given, the wife referenced "the pointless tasks, myriad sacrifices, the endless small surrenders" that women make men do to prove their love. I found myself making a note in the margin -- English major, remember? Don't judge too quickly, please -- saying: "What does it say about my life that I don't know what these are?"
Have my "semi-serious" relationships, as I like to call them, not been as serious as I thought they were because I hadn't encountered them? Am I too selfish a person to realize that I've done these in the past? Was I too independent in my relationship to ever ask/expect a man to do anything for me, much less prove his love?
The wife continues on explaining how she doesn't make a dancing monkey out of her husband. She, instead, greets him enthusiastically when they both get home from their respective outings (cocktail hour for her, impromptu poker night for him) and they both talk about their days. They speak of the dancing monkeys they encountered separately -- the husbands who would have paid to be anywhere but cocktail hour, the boyfriend who wanted to play poker but whose girlfriend desperately needed him to make an appearance at her dinner with friends -- and giggle, tongue-in-cheek, at those relationships.
The wife later sighs in the fact that her husband isn't more of a dancing monkey. Their relationship is a tough one to figure out: I'm not sure if she wants a dancing monkey, or if she wants him to want to be a dancing monkey, or if that was a sigh of relief that she doesn't have a dancing monkey for a husband.
I don't think I want a dancing monkey. Is that a bad thing?
Yes, I want a guy whom I can introduce to my friends and who will pick up my favorite bottle of wine because he wants to. Yes, I believe that couples should split the household chores and to show a bit of respect for the other's busy schedule, maybe even pick up one or two of the chores not on their personal list. Does this mean my boyfriend/husband is "whipped" or that he respects me?
I associate the term "whipped" or "dancing monkey" with a robot of some sort, a being who can't think for themselves. I think of the guy in my future as a respectful gentleman who finds pride in making me smile and in making my day.
Where I'm getting confused here is what makes the two different? The man's intention behind it? My expectation for it?
I cook asparagus and broccoli on a weekly basis. I'm beyond snobbish about what kind of pasta goes with each dish I make. I only vacuum when company comes over.
If I started cooking asparagus and broccoli on alternating weeks, does that mean I'm respecting his opinion, or chiseling away at my personality and my wants in order for someone else to take over? If I vacuum once a week because I want him to take pride in my home and the home that we will build together, am I single-handedly taking the feminist movement one gigantic step backwards?
I've been surrounded by enough good and healthy and long-lasting relationships in my life to be 98% sure of the answer. The problem is that the 2% left over is currently very strong and making me question a few things.
If I have to have a passive man in order to have one who takes pleasure in my smile, then I don't want it. If I have to nag in order to feel appreciated, I'll keep my weekly broccoli and asparagus. If I can't watch football loudly because he wants me to be seen and not heard, my windows will go on being dirty without anyone saying a blessed word. I have will sleepovers with friends during the week, I'll read books on Thanksgiving, I will spend every Christmas morning with my parents, and I will book a flight to South Korea to see my aunt and uncle and tell the travel agent, "Yes, ma'am, one ticket. Just one."
When did respect and kindness leave our society and become something to poke and joke about? When did sacrificing oneself for the good of the whole make someone an idiot or less of a human being? When did settling become something not only permitted, but advocated for?
This journey through online dating was supposed to be something fun. It was supposed to be light and breezy and full of interesting conversations that would lead to stories I would tell my girlfriends about during our own cocktail hour. I've noticed how it's made me go political on many levels. Maybe it's because I'm "meeting" people who aren't in my normal social circle. Maybe it's because I've had to defend my ideals more than once. Regardless of the reason, I'm not sorry for it and I'm certainly not apologizing for it either.
As we wrap up our turkey and we move on from a time of gratitude into the most selfish season of the year, I'm going to be thankful for just a moment longer: thankful for parents who love each other. Thankful for parents who will never stop loving each other. Thankful for grandparents who always have and always will love each other and show their grandchildren just how worth it is to never, ever settle. Thankful that I'm blessed enough to have the knowledge of true love in my mind, heart, and soul.
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