Dilemma of a modern woman – The 3 shifts of the day
This post is inspired by my cousin who was lamenting a few days ago about the stresses of being a woman. A seemingly innocuous comment on Facebook about being tired of cleaning up that night somewhat developed a life of its own with folks of different persuasion throwing in their 2 cents.
I shared a true story of a time I visited a friend, and we had some takeout dinner. After dinner, there was that awkward moment characterised by that “what the fuck are we gonna do with these dishes” faces, as we pretended not to notice that they needed dealing with – and I naively asked if he had a dish-washer. His reply was delivered in a clinical and blunt fashion – “Yeah! She’s in Dubai, she’ll be back next week” (referring to his other half of course….Why lie, that response was damn funny, but also tragic in its own way, but nevertheless, damn funny.
I guess as men, we rarely take the time to think of all the hoops our women have to jump just to make it through the day. I can see that look of “what the fuck would you know, you’ll never be a woman who has to balance the many demands made on us daily. True – but it’s also not unreasonable for me to have an opinion from a different perspective, that’ while not experiential, I’m sure will add to the mix and controversy. So as I quickly sip from the glass next to me (and glance backwards looking out for the feminishta and destinys children brigade thinking of wielding axes this way), I’m going to take a shot in the dark to see if I can capture a snapshot of the dilemmas of the day (with the health warning that this is not a scientific opinion)….
- Wake up by 6.00 in the cox to make sure that stuff is ready for the kid(s) – whether its breakfast, stuff for nursery/school and all the ungodly things that folks do before they get out of the house in the morning
- Hustle through shift 1 of the day with a job that demands a lot of your energy and spirit – at a place possibly riddled with office politics, drama central, and unreasonable bosses and colleagues – not to mention the workload
- Back home to enter shift 2 and get into home maker mode – sorting out all the kids unreasonable demands, cooking, throwing in a few cleaning duties while at it, giving or ensuring the kidos have a bath, putting them to bed possibly after supervising homework or reading bed-time stories to them – and of course all this while we’re on our 4th pint, and just starting to enjoy watching the Champions league second round football match with our favourite team down the pub with the boys
- Shift 3. Enter the man from the pub, ready for his meal and the 11 o’clock late news. After which, he’ll be expecting to find you all spruced up and ready for sex. After all, as his wife, you have to fulfil his conjugal rights…and in most cases, the dude is past romancing you with at least some sweet pillow talk about absolute nothings and some sensual foreplay. Foreplay to a guy at this stage of proceedings is more like “spread your legs sweetheart and brace yourself”….and of course, you do know that when he’s through, he’s immediately rolling over and snoring into a deep slumber oblivious of your attempts next to him to salvage the frustrating experience by at least masturbating yourself to an orgasm which could well be the only highlight of your day.
Hands up if you recognize this scenario….LOL! And as someone pointed out to me…all this happens despite the fact that you have to bust your gut staying fit and looking as pretty as you can just to keep up with “the enemy”…whether the enemy is to fend off unwanted competition or not to look bad amongst your peers.
Now that I think about it, it sounds tragic. I don’t claim to have any solutions, and that’s partly because I refuse to take sole responsibility for the collective failings of the male species when it comes to appreciating (or not) our women. It’s almost like there’s a constant struggle or philosophical battle that challenges the balance between the fulfilment of the aspirations, hopes and dreams, and the unavoidable duties of being a mother, wife and lover.
It’s hard to understand how some marriages and relationships still survive, even with all the drama thrown in the mix. Our cultural background and upbringing have shaped our view of what is or what is not acceptable. while you get many women who are strong enough to take control of such situations (however they choose to do it – including leaving the marriage or relationship), there are equally those who continue to suffer in silence.
For men, maybe there’s reason enough for us to be always kept on our toes. Gone are the days where you could proudly claim to all and sundry – “that is my wife or that is my woman”. LOL! We don’t own anybody. Granted, most customs and traditions that I know of within the African context looks unfavourably at the idea of divorce, but any inspection of the number of decree absolutes issued by any local civil court will aptly illustrate that tradition and custom doesn’t cut the mustard any more when it comes to divorce. There’s someone who once said that the only woman you can claim is yours is one that you bury and can point to the grave and say with conviction – “She was my wife”.
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Tags: Relationships, Romance, Womens liberation
