Independence

I had the beginnings of a great conversation with a co-worker today. He was munching Doritos on his break while I continued my lamentable toiling... folding an endless amount of sheets. The conversation danced across topics like Astaire and Rogers; from an upcoming event and the quality of linens coming from a vendor to the process of treating an issue with p traps in the plumbing lines. Seemingly out of the blue he says, "You really enjoy that independent shit, don't you?" A stood agape. Where did that come from? "I wouldn't say I enjoy it. It's just necessary for the moment." The conversation may have continued but other coworkers came in and I don't think he wanted to be caught prodding me for those kinds of answers. But it got me thinking.

I know. What doesn't? But I did think about it. When I got divorced, I really wanted to prove that I could recover on my own. I married for several stupid reasons, as I have covered before. And chief among my embarrassments was that I went from being a 19 year old successful entrepreneur to a 21 year old basket case with a bad case of spinning wheels. I'd played the Independent card along with the Mature for Her Age card to awesome compliments and a great looking future. Then, because I failed to recognize some of the pitfalls of that kind of thinking, I totally overplayed my hand. It was humiliating to have built a business, a future and garnered the respect and admiration of friends, a sibling and to some extent my mom. She may not have been impressed with my income. But she was astounded that I had a backbone and used it. I impressed myself. Then I let a guy in. He wasn't healthy and I knew it. He wasn't safe. I knew it. But I made a choice, gambled and lost. But worse than that is how I allowed myself to change.

He was the kind of guy who wanted to be all that and a bag of chips with a tall sweet tea. He wasn't. I dumbed down for him. I capitulated when I should not because he had a fragile ego. He was weak and I let my strength subside because we were married and I was making him look bad. It was easier to change than to hold my tongue. Problem, it was only easier in my imagination. Because by reigning in my opinions, by sidestepping my leadership in my own business I let a bunch of people down. I lost my self respect. And I think for a while I lost Dad's.

Grampa always taught me that a woman needed her mind as in a relationship as she did if she chose to be single. Yeah, it is an odd thing for a grampa to tell a granddaughter. But Gramma Olive told him how much I wanted to be my own person. In high school I kinda started to by into the Gloria Steinem thing. But that was just because I was scared that I didn't know much about guys. So to cover up my ignorance I just pretended that I didn't want/need a guy. Dad told me that a guy doesn't want a stupid woman because a stupid woman made everything twice as difficult as it needed to be. So I learned the difference between a crescent wrench and a monkey wrench, the proper tools for meal prep and how to fix some of my own problems. As a single daycare mom this was the best survival I could have. I couldn't always afford a plumber and Dad couldn't always get to me. So I had to learn to fix the chain in the toilet tank and change out leaky gaskets in the kitchen faucet. Oh, and it was helpful to know how to even if I lacked the skill cause then repair guys weren't able to take advantage of my checkbook. Gramma Olive was one of those modern women caught on the cusp of the feminine revolution. She wore pants and thought for herself but she never had anyone to teach her the essential "guy' skills. Gramma always told me that she wished that Grampa didn't have to do so much, that she was more help. So I took my cue. Independence looked like such a valuable trait.

After my divorce I felt like my independence made me unnatural in the group I was in. The Proverbs 31 Woman had to be the model for Wonder Woman. But in practice the P31W is just as intimidating to men as I was to my ex. Guys like to be the hero I guess. So then I had to soften the rough edges that being a daddy's girl had made. Then I met a guy I was gonna marry. He liked the soft. He liked the fact that I had my own tools. And mostly he liked the fact that if he needed help I could help without endless amounts of repeated instructions. It was a good balance. And then he was gone. So what's girl supposed to do?

The same thing that she always does... change her own light bulbs, replace her own faucets, fix her own toilet tanks, kill her own spiders, and keep her eyes open for a guy who doesn't mind independence. I've been divorced for 16 years. I've been out of a relationship for the better part of 6 years. I haven't found a guy who can stand an independent woman. Do I like it? No.

Independence is a necessity. I am single so I have to do for myself. I don't like it. Being able to wield my little Ryobi pocket screwdriver with precision and some finesse doesn't make a dreary Winter day less dreary; it cannot hold a conversation; it won't watch a good movie with me; share a delicious meal; take a drive on a Sunday; chill and listen to old music faves and it won't do the thing that a woman needs a guy for. It won't make me feel better about myself as a woman with the tender words and gentle caresses that are part of every relationship. I hate having to be independent. Right now the only consolation that I have is that I am not one of those women that people feel sorry for because she can't do for herself. I'll be 80 years old and outdoing a lot of my contemporaries, just like dad did.
I don't like being independent because the first thing people think of is the femi-nazi that Rush Limbaugh describes, mindless at the other end of the spectrum. I don't like independence because a lot of guys will assume that I don't need them, that I don't like them and that I am a different kind of "unnatural". I don't like being independent when that says to others that I can not appreciate anyone else's contributions.

I appreciate guys for who they are. They aren't just a penis or a tool box for my personal use which is what a lot of feminists treat them like. Each person I know is valuable and special in their own way and I can see that. I know a few knaves to be sure. But I know some gallant knights, as I've described before. And there is among men, a Prince whom I'd like to claim for my own. But how does he feel about independent women? Does he want me to be a wilting flower that he has to cater to? Or would he rather have a woman who can help on a project to get it out of the way so we can get to the fun? I hate the perception that independence means I'm not fun. Personally I'd rather get work out of the way so I can be on the beach by noon.

No I don't like independence. But I am a picky single woman who has to fend for herself for the moment.