3CB

… that we’re asking the wrong question. It all starts out innocently enough. An aggrieved woman asks, ‘Are men and women equal?’ If you answer, ‘Yes’, then the issue becomes, ‘Why aren’t they treated equally?’ If you answer ‘No’ then you’re a male chauvinist, even if you happen to be, you know, a woman.

So just what IS a feminist? I read an insightful post on tumblr that said a feminist is a person that advocates equal rights for women. The article further explains that lots of people are feminists, even though they may not know it. I don’t ascribe to feminism, even though most people think I do. I recognize that feminists from the past have done a lot for me. They got me an education, a job, jeans, the right to vote. Without them, I’d probably be a third wife to some old lout in a village somewhere.

Yet I say I’m not a feminist, because my idea of feminism is the radical females that have taken things too far. That doesn’t stop men (and women) who meet me from declaring me a feminist, because I’m a loud single mum with an opinion about everything. So why am I not a feminist? Because feminism answers the wrong question.

Men are not equal to women. Women are not equal to men. Men are not superior to women. Women are not superior to men. Neither gender is inferior to the other, because the two genders are complementary. The fact is that men can’t thrive without women, and women can’t thrive without men. They can live, they can survive, they can even be happy. But in order to thrive, they need each other.

Let’s look at the most basic point – population. For the human race to procreate, we need both men and women. Men need a womb and egg from a female. Women need a sperm from a male. You could spend lifetimes arguing about which of those components is more crucial, but the fact is if you took out either part, there would be no children. Then the human race would become completely extinct.

What about homosexual couples? A lesbian couple still needs a sperm from a male. A gay male couple still needs an egg and a womb. Even adoptive parents need a man and woman to collaborate and produce that child. Without that connection, there’d be no baby for them to adopt.

Fine, what about after the child is born, what then? Well, somebody needs to look after the baby. Feeding, changing, bathing, playing etc. And somebody needs to pay the bills so that somebody else can look after the baby. Who does what is not the point.

A man is better endowed physically for hunting, gathering, detaching from the child during work hours, and is therefore intrinsically better suited to provide for the family. A woman can learn these skills. A woman is more nurturing and emotional, and has breasts, so she’s intrinsically better at child care. A man can learn these skills.  So when it comes to child rearing, gender is a factor, but it’s not a deciding factor.

Now, let’s look at gender inequality. Because a woman’s biological make-up is better suited to raising children, some people believe that’s all she should do. Because a man’s biological make-up is better suited for provision, some people believe that’s all he should do. These two beliefs have led to both genders being institutionally locked out of certain opportunities, at school, at work, and at home.

These opportunities are related to skill, not gender, and we’ve already established that these skills can be learned. It may be slightly more difficult for a man to rear a child or for a woman to hunt a mammoth, but it can be done. So, again, gender is a stupid basis for denying anyone an opportunity.

Now, let’s look at the things a man or woman CAN’T do because of their gender. A woman can’t fertilize an egg. A man can’t gestate a child. If there’s ANYTHING else that a man or woman can’t do based on their gender, I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

So, as far as I know, the ONLY thing that can be denied based on gender is siring and bearing children. Which of the two is more important is a pointless argument, since taking any of the two out of the equation eliminates children, which means the human race is gone.

Now, based on men siring children and women bearing children, it would be insensible for a mother that is 8 months pregnant to climb the scaffolding on a construction site, or grab a gun and charge into battle. It would be equally impractical for a father to grab his hungry infant and hide in the closet without a feeding bottle.

If men and women were equal, then a couple in their eighth month of pregnancy could both climb that scaffolding I mentioned earlier. But just because the mother can’t (and shouldn’t) doesn’t make her inferior. If men and women were equal, then a couple with a two week old baby could both feed him using the liquids that flow out of their bodies. Just because the father can’t do that doesn’t make him inferior. In both situations, one parent needs to pay for the other to take care of the child, both within and outside the uterus. They complement each other so that their baby – and the human race – can survive.

Does that mean the kids of homosexual or single parents are missing out? No. It does mean they need the other gender to complement their parenting, and most kids get that through aunts, uncles, teachers, elder siblings, close friends. The point is the genders balance each other out, in all areas of life.

So, should men and women be given the same opportunities? Yes. Should they always take the same opportunities? No. Is either gender inferior to the other? No. Are the two genders equal to each other? No. Do the two genders need each other? Absolutely. Is the world doomed if we can’t make peace between men and women. Yes. Can we make this peace while one gender feels antagonized, attacked, and belittled by the other? No. And this is why I’m not a feminist.

♫ Let me be myself ♫ 3 Doors Down ♫

I’m not particularly happy right now. There are some problems at work, and I’m finding it increasingly hard to drag myself to the office every morning. It’s a hard thing to admit, because I’m doing what I love, and to a lot of my industry peers, this is a dream job. It makes me feel like I’m whinging for no apparent reason. Yet the feeling of unhappiness remains. Maybe that’s the problem. “More often than not, we just don’t know how to be happy. Instead we make ourselves miserable and let happiness occur seemingly at random. We have to learn to be happy.”

Here’s another one – “Count no man happy until he is dead” – Solon. According to this article, happiness isn’t a constant. It’s an accumulation of moments, so we have to keep seeking it, finding it, and re-seeking it when it lapses. To quote the article, “We like to think that continual happiness is something we can actually realize; who wouldn’t like to live life in perpetual bliss and joy, wandering around every day with a goofy smile on your face? Instead, it always seems as though it’s just out of reach and when we do achieve it, it proves to be all too fleeting and short-lived.”

A few days ago, I was offered an amazing opportunity. It was a side job that would pay double my monthly salary in less than two weeks. I turned it down because the terms and conditions were iffy. I would have to travel, which I don’t particularly enjoy, and I’d have to spend a potentially prolonged period ‘partying’ with people I don’t like. I’d have to be away from my princess, and I’d have to promote a product that I really, really detest. Plus, I didn’t like the attitude of the side-job boss. I figured the task was more trouble than it was worth.

I’m actually at peace with my decision, which bothers me, because nobody should be this comfortable about turning down that much money. Also, I got a half hour lecture and some silent treatment for – you know – turning down that much money. I’m always talking about how I want to earn more, but when someone offered it to me, I walked away because I didn’t like the delivery guy. It makes me worry that maybe I lack the mentality to be wealthy.

Refusing to do that side-job was a principled, emotional decision, and as far as I know, principles and emotions have no place in the business of getting rich. I often tell myself I don’t care about money – at least not in the abstract sense. I live a fairly simple life and am easily sated. That said, I do have expensive tastes. I like bacon and Converse sneakers and BMWs, all of which cost a lot of money. I feel suddenly sad thinking that if I want to own that X6 or that penthouse or that shoe-rack full of Converse, I might need to stop being so principled.

Last week, I wrote down a detailed game plan on how to get my salary doubled. This morning I stared at my desk in despair, because the game plan is deep, dark, convoluted, unnatural … and would involve a lot of sucking up. Somehow it just doesn’t feel like it’s worth it.

I suppose the real reason I’m unhappy is that I’m not where I thought I’d be at 32. I’ve convincingly argued that I’m actually not comparing myself to other people. I’m comparing myself to my vision. But when I really think about it, that vision was defined by … *dramatic sigh* … Lorelai Gilmore. In vaguely related news, my baby girl likes Nikki Minaj and One Direction. I know none of their songs, which means I am now officially this mom *pointing*at*the*video*down*there*pause*shudder*. She still loves me though, so yay!

In constructing this post, I bumped into a lot of articles about the true meaning of happiness. It’s the same things people always say – stop watching TV, don’t compare yourself to others, don’t sell out for a buck, be grateful for what you have. This article puts it quite nicely. It says if everyone could become a millionaire at 20 or win the Oscars, it wouldn’t be so remarkable. So we essentially compare ourselves to really rare things and end up stealing our own happiness.

The article suggests instead that you should focus on what you’ve done, not on how it compares to other people. Did you save up to buy your dream phone? Pass your driving test? Keep your job while others were retrenched? Write a popular blog post? Make an awesome drawing? Squeeze a compliment out of your grumpy boss? These are all cool things – and ironically, they’re things other people would love to achieve. Think about that for a second. “Take a look around your life. There’s a lot you should be proud of. Even if it seems silly or minor, that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t count.”

I’ve always wondered how to stop comparing myself to people, but when I look at it like that, accepting that I’m matching myself up against someone’s grandest achievement rather than their ordinary, everyday life, then it sounds really silly. I have lots of friends who get mad at me when I make genuine complaints about my life, because they want my life. And I didn’t even realize what that meant until a few months ago.

A friend of mine made a massive leap up the corporate ladder. Corner office, fancy title, social status, higher pay cheque, the works. Except he hates it. He misses his old job. I spent half an hour convincing him that the new job was a good thing, that he should make the most of it, that millions of people envy him – including me! And I didn’t realize till about five seconds ago that I was telling him to not to do the exact thing I’m doing right now. Sigh.

So I suppose that’s the place to start. Acknowledging that despite all the problems, I have a good job at a good firm [mostly] doing what I love and getting paid for it. Sure, there are parts of my job I detest, but maybe I can balance them out with the parts I enjoy. And maybe if I just train myself to focus on the gratitude, then it won’t be so hard to smile when I walk to my desk each morning.

Bottom line, don’t use others as a measure of your success, even if ‘others’ are Lorelai Gilmore. You don’t know what their life is like. “You’re comparing your raw footage to their highlights.” This – however – is no excuse for schadenfreude. Coz that’s just begging for bad karma. Also, non-comparison takes training. Lots and lots and lots of training.

The first lesson for me is that just because I feel powerless doesn’t mean I am. There’s always a step I can take, even a teeny, tiny baby one. I can’t control everything that happens, but I can control how I react, which is a good way of looking at things, since I’m such a control freak. A lot of my depressive episodes start when I feel like I’ve lost control of – well – everything. So this is a good lesson for me.

The article says positivity is a habit, and so is negativity. It suggests you take a positivity challenge, where you make a conscious choice to be positive about everything for 7 days. If you notice a lapse, even if it’s on day 6, start over. And you have to deliberately look for the bright side in everything, including yourself. You have to find the light at the end of the tunnel of your own faults and nasty character traits. Life really is all about perspective. I know this will be especially hard for me, given my history with depression, but I think it’s an experiment worth doing, and it could literally change my life, and yours as well.

Like the article says, “You have to be willing to think, ‘Yes, this sucks, but all will be well in the end. Life isn’t fair. Life just is. But you have a choice between guaranteed misery and the pursuit of happiness. Happiness isn’t something you’re given, it’s something you earn. If you want to be happy, you have to be willing to go out and create it. Shit happens. And when it does, you have a choice. Are you going to cowboy up and fight for a happier life, or just lay there and bleed?”

♫ Someday ♫ Nickelback ♫

I’m a hopeless romantic that doesn’t believe in marriage relationships. That statement alone suggests a need for therapy, but hey. The thing is I don’t really understand ‘eros’. That form of love where you want to be around another person all the time. It’s fine for other people … just not for me. I get bored after a while, so no matter how much I adore someone, I need to take a little stroll, just so I can have some me-time.  It’s why I doubt I’ll ever cohabit with anyone (again). I’m usually cool after a few hours minutes of down-time though.

My ideal ‘relationship’ would be with a guy that gets me (and isn’t sparkly), and that lives in his house while I live in my house (with my baby) and we can have sleepovers four-to-five nights a week. Basically, he lives his life, I live mine, we have sex, we hang out, we connect on physical, emotional, and intellectual levels, he’s nice to my daughter, and we ignore all concepts of joint accounts, family gatherings, or in-laws. Also, no blowjobs, pole-dancing, or rear-entry experiments.

It’s hard for me to get why two people would live together, especially if they’re not married and don’t have kids. But that’s just me. I’m maniacally protective of my personal space, and have trouble letting anyone inside it for prolonged periods of time. Even my precious baby girl, my whole reason for existence, knows that when mummy gets a little antsy, it’s time to find an imaginary errand – preferably in another room – and give mummy five minutes of breathing space.

That said, I don’t understand organic break-ups. I mean I get splitting up because of infidelity, crime, or abuse. What I don’t get is this whole thing of growing apart and irreconcilable differences. How do you spend a year, a decade, a lifetime with another person, then suddenly wake up one day and realise you’re no longer compatible? You could argue that your partner has changed, but surely, you were there the whole time. It didn’t happen overnight!

Well, guess who just split up with someone. Over – yes – irreconcilable differences. I didn’t understand what that ish meant until it happened to me. In my case, it was pretty simple. After being close to someone for more than five years, I woke up and realised I really didn’t know him at all. Unfortunately, he realised the same thing, at around the same time.

So how does that happen exactly? Well, it turns out it’s really easy. All it takes is for one person to stay quiet, and the other person to wrongly fill the silence. See, this boy that I love is quiet. He doesn’t feel the need to share his opinion or his thoughts. Me, I’m a chatterbox. (My workmates claim otherwise.) For most of the relationship, I’d say stuff, he’d nod, and I’d assume he (a) understood me, (b) agreed with me, and (c) accepted me. Turns out he simply didn’t want to start a fight.

What changed? I’m not really sure. All I know is a few weeks ago – at the height of my depression – he exploded and said a few things, and I realised I didn’t know this man at all. It turns out some of my ‘best’ qualities drive him to distraction, and some of his ‘worst’ ones are things I didn’t even know existed. We had a huge argument that had been silently brewing for five years, and I was so shaken and traumatised that for three days, I couldn’t say a single word to him beyond ‘hello’.

When we finally got to talking again, I said it was hard for me to be with a person who can’t share himself with me. He said the reason he can’t share himself with me is that I don’t accept him, so he’s not free telling me things. I realised he was right. He’s always been quiet, but earlier in the relationship, he was a lot more vocal. I guess I just shot down his ideas so often that he stopped sharing them. I asked if he could try to be more open if I tried to be less analytical, but it seems the damage I’ve done is far beyond repair. He doesn’t think it’s possible, and he’s not willing to try.

I read a tweet once that said people should learn how to fight instead of rushing to break up, and for some weeks now, I’ve tried to ‘fight’. But it’s hard to fight with someone who won’t engage. He says he has never spoken up because he’s not at ease around me. He feels like he has to constantly explain himself, and it annoys him, so he doesn’t even bother.

And the more I think about it, the more I realise the reason he has to explain himself is because I judge him. His opinions and values are so different from mine that I automatically feel like everything he wants to do is ‘wrong’. For example, he asked me to do something I was deeply uncomfortable with. In my mind, the fact that he even wanted me to do it was disrespectful. In his mind, the fact that I wouldn’t do it meant I didn’t trust him. We argued about it for days before reaching an impasse. It’s one of those things where you can’t really compromise.

It’s like having a baby. If one partner wants kids and the other doesn’t, there’s no middle ground. You can’t have half a kid. Either one partner agrees to live without children, or the other partner agrees to sire (or adopt) a child they don’t want and might never learn to love. It’s an awkward sort of ‘compromise.’ And those are the kinds of differences we have.

In today’s world, couples discover differences like that days, weeks, or months into their marriage, and depending on where they live, they get a quickie divorce. Sometimes divorce doesn’t happen until the kids are grown and there’s no social reason to stay together. Sometimes the divorce happens sooner, when the differences drive one partner out of their home, or into someone else’s arms.

I’m sure that in the past, couples had differences like that too. Thing is divorce wasn’t as readily accepted, or as easy to procure. In my case, I guess I should be glad that our ‘differences’ showed up before we made a permanent commitment. But then he always told me, ‘forever is as long as we’re both happy.’ And right now, neither of us is happy.

There are issues in relationships where you can meet halfway. There are others where one partner can cede their rights and let the other partner ‘win’. I learned at Landmark that the entire story of humanity is, ‘I’m right and you’re wrong.’ So in this relationship, if one of us simply agrees to be wrong, then we can work things out. But I guess we’re both pretty set in our ways, so maybe letting go and walking away is the kindest thing for both of us.

We’ve split up and gotten back together lots of times over the years, but no disagreement has ever felt as final as this one. The weird thing is this feels like my first ‘real’ break-up, even though I’ve had lots of others. Maybe it’s because this is the one man I kept coming back to, the one I thought I’d be with, no matter what. It’s hard to let that kind of conviction go.

I’m glad that the basis of ‘us’ was friendship, and that we’re managing to hold onto that … barely. But I still feel really really sad that this man I love is suddenly a stranger to me. There’s a whole world of harm in things left unsaid. He told me he hopes I find a man that’s open and honest, and that he needs a girl that’s open-minded and understanding.

I hope he finds someone that will not find his deepest desires and opinions to be so fundamentally polar that she can’t possibly come around to them. I guess just because you love someone doesn’t mean that you can be together. My psychology professor said that once. I finally understand what she meant.

♫ Burn it down ♫ Linkin Park ♫