In the sixties, we were extorted to be Domestic Goddesses, cleaning the house in our well-fitted two to three inch heels, resting fully dressed three to four minutes on our freshly waxed floors, and having a chilled cocktail waiting for Him when he walked through the door, the scent of martini wafting gently over the smell of floor wax, pot roast, and a fresh Lysol douche.
In the seventies, we had two paths: Angry Feminist with Granola partner, or Total Woman. Like the Domestic Goddess, the Total Woman was expected to manage the household competently but unlike Betty Crocker, be a competent seductress who (probably) also gave head. I don't recall that head is mentioned in the Total Woman book, but since every page is basically a hymn to penis power (particularly the higher wage) it might as well be.
In the 80's, Roseanne Barr took the piss out of the Domestic Goddess, and we permed our bangs to amazing heights.
The 90's brought us the Promise Keepers, "good" Christian men who banded together and vowed to actually honor their marriage vows and to bring home the bacon to boot.
Anything after that is kind of a fog to me, having been expatriated for so long. But one thing is sure: at 48 I realize the value of having another income to buoy up the family, and if your husband not only changes the lightbulbs but can support you well enough so that all you have to do is have your nails done and play canasta--and you're happy with this--then more power to you. Happiness has a lot to do with the choices you make, and if you are lucky enough to be in the position where you're happy being at home, washing the clothes or watching other people do it, then enjoy. If you want to work, then enjoy your career. Having kids? Enjoy them too.
I also got to thinking about this: I always wanted to be a housewife, but no one hired me for the job. So, having a bit of free time on my hands this week, as well as the influence of a plethora of pain-killing drugs due to a root canal gone bad, I spent some time trolling on the Net, learning exactly how to be if not a Total Woman, at least someone who has a few more dates. Enter The Modern Siren.
The Modern Siren is a program I found which promises that by simply changing my vibe and focusing more on myself, I can have men drooling over me. For only $199 dollars I can enroll in a video course that can change my life. Some of the tools were sent to me: they are, to my jaundiced eye, actually viable techniques, but there's something in me that rebels against "imagine you are painting yourself with love while the man you want to attract watches you. Concentrate on this image the next time you're in his presence." I immediately picture myself in a staff meeting, dipping my fingers in an imaginary cup of love and anointing myself while He stares at me longingly--and I burst out laughing. I can't see this, me dripping love on myself while being lectured about Form Tutors and House points. Anyone who knows me well enough to know what sorts of things I DO think about in those staff meetings can be sure that I am not dipping my fingers into anything in my head, I'm probably working out the kinks in a new tomato sauce recipe or figuring out how to conduct three simultaneous new student interviews while also giving meaningful instruction to my class.
My friend Teri who, like me, is single and of a certain age, asked me what I do believe it. It's simple: I believe that you can trick and coerce people in to feeling an initial attraction, but that's not the way I want to win. I believe that most men are not going to leave a woman who throws the occasional random Steak and Blow Job day (or the equivalent for whatever kink he has). I think of head as a form of communion, of communication, and of sex as the best description I ever heard, from the British marriage service: with my body, I thee worship. I believe in treating your partner well and receiving the same treatment in return: I believe in being faithful, but if a married man strays my way, that's your problem, not mine. Most of my friends are married men and quite frankly I could snap my fingers and have almost any one of them, but guess what--that's not me, and that't not what I want. As dearly as I love my male friends, there's not one I feel that happiness with. Since they do confide in me, I can tell women (in general) one thing: quit whining, and appreciate what you've got. Just because I am not going to poach your man, don't think there are other women, particularly very young beautiful Chinese women, who have my scruples. Trust me, any guy, ANY GUY, in the world, can hook up within a week with a young beautiful girl here who will indeed give him steak and blow jobs every day of the week, until that ring is on her finger. You want proof? Go to the Hello Kitty restaurant. Trust me, every guy in there is going to get laid that night. And trust me when I say once the marriage happens, the lovin' goes out the window and she takes control of the purse strings and meals out cease as well.
But I digress: what do I believe? That marriage is the beginning of developing something bigger and better. That it's worth waiting for someone who melts your bones and makes you smile. That just because the one person who did this for me disappeared abruptly from my life, that doesn't mean it's over for me. I know I can love because I have loved: if I do end the rest of my days alone, I'm fine with that, because I know I won't have cheated my way into someone's heart, and can therefore sleep peacefully at night, knowing I haven't hurt anyone. If that isn't attractive to the right sort of man, then I don't know what is. But I'm sure not going to spend 199 bucks to find out.
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