It took a major relationship argument to realize that, while I knew I could go it alone, I really wanted someone else along for the ride. To help. To support. To love me through it.
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According to the Holmes and Rahe Social Readjustment Rating Scale (SRRS), divorce a top life stressor, second only to the death of a spouse. The physical, mental, and emotional toll divorce can take on a person and, more so, a family, is significant.
I’ve always been a pretty independent woman, but my divorce ramped up that independence ten-fold. It’s important to me that my children see that we can and will forge ahead and still be successful and happy, in spite of the societal expectations that we have a man around. In my time as a single mother, I’ve taught myself how to change a tire and jump start a car (in four-inch heels and a dress, no less). I’ve learned plumbing and furniture restoration, figured out what sort of wound requires a little liquid Band-aid and which merits a trip to the ER for stitches, all while suppressing my urge to pass out at the sight of blood as I did when I was younger. I talk football with my kids, mow my own yard, patch holes in the walls. I hang shelves. I trap the mice and rescue the frogs and kill ALL THE SPIDERS (because we all have our limits). I do it all around here because the truth of the matter is I, along with the majority of single parents, don’t have an option.
And then, two years post-divorce, I started dating someone seriously.
For a while, my independent streak was an advantage to both of us. There was no chance I’d become the needy girlfriend, no chance I’d be that whiner, that helpless damsel you hear so much about. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it” became my mantra. For every dinner he bought, I bought one. Every time I’d come across one of life’s little (and not-so-little) bumps, he’d respectfully stand back and watch as I slogged through it on my own. Because I didn’t require his help. I didn’t need him, I wanted him. There was a difference.
Until there wasn’t.
The night I received my brand new writing desk in a series of boxes from Amazon, I grabbed a hammer and a beer and set in to assemble the most majestic desk there ever was.
An hour and a half, three beers, and a number of f-bombs later, I was only about a third of the way into my project. Frustrated and fed up, I was snappy with my kids and my boyfriend who had stopped by to check on my progress. My contractor boyfriend. My contractor boyfriend who spent the bulk of his time managing and working for his own construction business.
“How’s it coming?” He asked.
“I’m fine,” I snapped.
“Why aren’t you using your drill instead of that screwdriver?”
“Because I lost the *bleeping* battery to the drill and I don’t have a backup. It’s fine. I’m fine. Hush.”
“I’ve got a drill in the truck.”
“I don’t need a drill. I’ve got this screwdriver.”
“You know, I’ve built things before.”
“I’M FINE. I CAN DO THIS.”
And on it went until we were virtually screaming at each other at which point he stomped out, completely irritated, and I threw my stupid screwdriver across the empty room. It was one of the bigger fights we’d ever had.
“I don’t need you around, I want you, don’t you see that?” I told him, later.
“Need and want don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” he said. “You don’t have to make everything harder than it has to be to prove a point. I want to help.”
Next: “And that was just the problem, wasn’t it?”
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I came to my independence as a woman out of necessity. It was forced on me, not something I ever really wanted…rather a question of survival. My 42 year husband left me for a younger, wealthier, fake blonde. I’ve learned to do so much on my own and slowly realized I loved not being a wife anymore. The freedom is empowering. However, I have a lot of men friends (not boyfriends) who are happy to help me with the things I can not do by myself. I take their help willingly and with nothing but appreciation. But at the same… Read more »
Nope. The only thing that gets a wide berth of no travel than a single mom is the ‘strong independent woman’. I avoid them both and have never regretted either decision. Show up with the Gloria Steinam mindset and you will guickly find I agree, Women need a man like a fish needs a bike. There should be no men that jump on that grenade, it certainly will never be me. P.S. ‘Romance’ is the fat Santa Clause of Love – eventually you will learn it us just society’s pandering dressed up in a seasonal costume. #MGTOW – we do… Read more »
This is the drama of all ‘independent women’. They want to do everything and there’s nothing left for the men to do. Men want to be helpful! They need to be helpful because that’s what it means to be a man. If a man doesn’t feel helpful it’s very easy for him to get depressed. You make him feel like he’s not good enough. You deny him the opportunity to bring value into your life.
Have you ever thought about volunteering? Seriously. We men like to think we always need to fix things. Problem is most of us can barely fix a leaky faucet! We cannot even fix our own lives. So, how is it that we can fix other people’s lives? Just who the hell said the definition of a man is to be helpful? Perhaps this is the problem. I think we men need to broaden our horizons. We need to define for ourselves what it means to be a man. Be your own man I say! Stop thinking that your sense of… Read more »
Your words resonate with me. I am a strong and independent woman who has learned to take care of herself, and takes pride in that. After 38 years of adulthood and two marriages, I find myself single again. I’ve grown tired of being strong and independent. I want a man in my life who wants to take care of me – not to be confused with me wanting to be taken care of. Just someone who will love and support me, and carry my burdon when I grow weary until I’m ready to take it back again.
That’s been me for the longest time. Being masculine in my mind and a feminine at heart, I take pride in my ability to lead an independent life (because that’s what my father thought women can’t do!) at the cost of stashing my romantic need for a man to step up and take charge into a closet! I feriously guard my able self and don’t let a man provide for me…I can’t imagine asking for a man’s help unless of course I need one’s physical strength. I feel disoriented around strong masculine men as they seem to challenge (same charges… Read more »
For alot of us more old fashioned guys like myself, being physically useful is absolutely necessary. For us, we shoe love by what we do with our hands. Fixing her car, roofing the house, finishing the basement, repairing the dryer, these things are the source of our sense of worth in relationship. It makes you feel like a man, a provider. In this way, I need to be needed. A woman who won’t let me do these things is a woman I’m not interested in.
*show
“For us, we shoe love by what we do with our hands. Fixing her car, roofing the house, finishing the basement, repairing the dryer, these things are the source of our sense of worth in relationship. ” I can understand how doing these things give you a sense of pride and joy. What is incomprehensible to me is just how not being able to do these things for a woman makes you feel less of a man. I don’t get it. I can paint, replace a toilet, my sink disposal, repair my Kubota snowblower……I grew up doing these things. But,… Read more »