By the time yesterday rolled around, I was exhausted.
"How are you?" asked someone in roughly my situation. She's a woman who has been tough sometimes because she's had to be.
"Hanging in there" I told her. "I wish I didn't have to be so strong sometimes."
Single mom.
Mom of a teen with special needs.
Student. Intern. Journalist.
When I read about the "women in binders" meme that went Twitter-wild after candidate Romney get his words mixed up on Tuesday night, I just chuckled.
Strange, is it not, the way our culture magnifies slips of the tongue into big deals.
But then I started to think about the rest of his answer to that question -- and his assumption that he should support a woman so she could be home to feed her family.
We women do a lot more than rush home to cook dinner.
Oftentimes I bet my little family wishes someone else would feed them -- a diet of steamed veggies, tofu and Trader Joe's Halloween (orange-colored) generic oreo cookies may not be what the dream-mom would make.
But without my dream-guy chef around to pick up the crepe pan, I do the best I can.
Over the years, I've worked hard to stay as resilient and emotionally healthy as possible. But I wish I didn't have to make a consistent effort.
Not that I'm complaining.
O.K., I'm complaining.
Today. So bear with me.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll be a bit more gracious and forgiving.
The fact is, that I'm often more willing to call it like it is than many of the guys that first appear appealing. I don't know if this is a "guy" thing -- I think it might be a human thing.
I didn't inherit the white lie gene. In my family, I don'd think we HAD a prevarication gene -- you might be stunned by what Uncle Si said, but you didn't doubt his sincerity in saying it.
Some of these men just don't get it - how could I NOT want to hook up with them, since they are clearly such studs?
I don't seem to share a common vocabulary with others -- and sadly, that does make a difference. Perhaps it wouldn't have in our twenties, but it does in middle-age.
I've been on the losing end of a few tentative steps towards friendships, if not something different -- and it's made quite the impression on me. One man, an (initially) charming Frenchman, told me, after a few dates, that he would probably leave me for a younger woman -- because that's what usually happens.
Then there have been men who clearly saw me as a back-up if their "dream girl" didn't work out. Falling fast and easy into what sure appears to be fantasy, they drove through the flashing yellow lights and out of my life.
I have to admit that, even though I could see what was going on, it still stung.
Frequently I am asked if I am a "dominant" or a "submissive." Conceivably these fellas need more of a specialist female -- one who can cook, clean, and seduce in chains -- or with a whip.
I have much to be meek about. It's not a case of being "better than" the guys with whom I chat online.
And it's most surely not a case of most women being better than, or even, perhaps stronger than most men. There are lots of guys who do roughly what we do -- and do it so well.
Like a lot of my sisters, I'm the resilient and direct person I am because I've had to be so that my kids grow up in a relatively sane environment. But there are times I long to share these burdens with someone else -- or to act completely irresponsible.
I find, however, that when I cut loose, whether it be with a moment of mischief or a cutting comment, it boomerangs on me.
Responsible female seeks mature male for collaboration, creativity, good works, and perhaps, on a night with a blue moon, some fun.
What a concept.
