A Woman's Worth
March 17th 2008 02:13
“A woman’s job is never done”, “being a woman is a thankless task”; whoever coined these phrases was clearly frustrated with their life and I’m sad to say that I can identify with them.
When I was little my mum would say to me “I wish I’d been born a man” and “if I had my life to live over I’d be a man”. I use to think about that statement and wonder why she felt that way. I would look at my dad with his short hair, fat belly, bristly face and bland clothing and think, “why on earth would my mum want to be him?” As far as I was concerned, as an eight-year-old girl, life as a female was great. I got to wear pretty dresses, braid my blonde hair, play with make-up and have an all-round fun time. I didn’t understand the full velocity of my mum’s frustrations until I became an adult and had to do “woman’s work” as my now-husband so politely calls it.
I moved out of home when I was in my late teens and started living in a shared house with a couple of other people. I thought it was going to be fantastic, living out of home, and it was in some ways. In other ways it was a nightmare. Not only was I working full-time but I had to come home at 5pm and do housework and cook dinner; it was just overwhelming! Where had the fun gone? The fact of the matter is that “reality” is not often fun and so I then began to truly identify with my mum. I understood why she felt the way she did, all this tending and caring for the household was damn hard and boring! And now it’s even worse for me because I’m married and living in my own home so the sense of ownership I feel is overwhelming. I am definitely my mother’s daughter; she’s a perfectionist and so am I. I’m not ashamed of it, no way, but it does mean that I put a lot of pressure on myself to live up to my own expectations.
I’m still working full-time so on the weekend I get the delightful task of cleaning the bathroom and toilet, cleaning the kitchen, washing our clothes and vacuuming the house; and that’s the bare minimum! What about dusting and changing the bed sheets and doing the grocery shopping? Hours upon hours of tending and caring. So when do I get to have a life? Good question. I don’t have much of one and it makes me mad.
The extent of my sad life hit home today. My husband went motorbike riding at 8am, off gallivanting and enjoying himself, and I got up around that time because I couldn’t sleep. So between 8am and when my husband arrived home at 2pm what did I do? Housework that’s what! Oh what a sad, sad woman I am. Is this the extent of my life? Is there an easier way? The thing that ticks me off the most is that I believe I don’t make the majority of the mess, rather my husband and dog do. Our dog is a little, fluffy white thing so when she spends time in our dusty back yard she ends up a little, matted grey dirtball who delights in cleaning herself on our microsuede couch. My husband is a manly man and spends a lot of time outside too. He also takes delight in cleaning himself off on our upholstery. It doesn’t matter how much I whinge and moan to him about the mess he’s making, he doesn’t care because he doesn’t have to clean up after himself; I do and he knows it. Of course he’s tried to clean the house before to pacify me briefly but lets just say his standards aren’t quite as high as mine so I’d prefer he just let me do it.
OK, so I have questions for everyone reading this; will it ever get better? Will it ever be different? I think I know the answers already because after all, my mum was in her forties when she uttered those words, “I wish I’d been born a man”. The injustices of life; its not going to change so just get over it right?
When I was little my mum would say to me “I wish I’d been born a man” and “if I had my life to live over I’d be a man”. I use to think about that statement and wonder why she felt that way. I would look at my dad with his short hair, fat belly, bristly face and bland clothing and think, “why on earth would my mum want to be him?” As far as I was concerned, as an eight-year-old girl, life as a female was great. I got to wear pretty dresses, braid my blonde hair, play with make-up and have an all-round fun time. I didn’t understand the full velocity of my mum’s frustrations until I became an adult and had to do “woman’s work” as my now-husband so politely calls it.
I moved out of home when I was in my late teens and started living in a shared house with a couple of other people. I thought it was going to be fantastic, living out of home, and it was in some ways. In other ways it was a nightmare. Not only was I working full-time but I had to come home at 5pm and do housework and cook dinner; it was just overwhelming! Where had the fun gone? The fact of the matter is that “reality” is not often fun and so I then began to truly identify with my mum. I understood why she felt the way she did, all this tending and caring for the household was damn hard and boring! And now it’s even worse for me because I’m married and living in my own home so the sense of ownership I feel is overwhelming. I am definitely my mother’s daughter; she’s a perfectionist and so am I. I’m not ashamed of it, no way, but it does mean that I put a lot of pressure on myself to live up to my own expectations.
I’m still working full-time so on the weekend I get the delightful task of cleaning the bathroom and toilet, cleaning the kitchen, washing our clothes and vacuuming the house; and that’s the bare minimum! What about dusting and changing the bed sheets and doing the grocery shopping? Hours upon hours of tending and caring. So when do I get to have a life? Good question. I don’t have much of one and it makes me mad.
My husband - just relax honey!
The extent of my sad life hit home today. My husband went motorbike riding at 8am, off gallivanting and enjoying himself, and I got up around that time because I couldn’t sleep. So between 8am and when my husband arrived home at 2pm what did I do? Housework that’s what! Oh what a sad, sad woman I am. Is this the extent of my life? Is there an easier way? The thing that ticks me off the most is that I believe I don’t make the majority of the mess, rather my husband and dog do. Our dog is a little, fluffy white thing so when she spends time in our dusty back yard she ends up a little, matted grey dirtball who delights in cleaning herself on our microsuede couch. My husband is a manly man and spends a lot of time outside too. He also takes delight in cleaning himself off on our upholstery. It doesn’t matter how much I whinge and moan to him about the mess he’s making, he doesn’t care because he doesn’t have to clean up after himself; I do and he knows it. Of course he’s tried to clean the house before to pacify me briefly but lets just say his standards aren’t quite as high as mine so I’d prefer he just let me do it.
OK, so I have questions for everyone reading this; will it ever get better? Will it ever be different? I think I know the answers already because after all, my mum was in her forties when she uttered those words, “I wish I’d been born a man”. The injustices of life; its not going to change so just get over it right?
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Comment by katyzzz
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Other than that, just learn to say NO, and don't put up with it and don't get on with it.
So sorry you're married, we could have made music together.
Comment by Harry
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Comment by Babyjrulz
I think I would definitely enjoy a life of leisure; a rich husband does sound appealing