I remember, when I was breaking up with one of my exes years ago, he listed all the ways I made his life better when trying to convince me not to go. And I asked him, “but how do you think you make my life better?” and he was taken aback. “I don’t know,” he said. He’d never thought about it.
When I date people, I devote a lot of effort to making their lives better. When I’m with women, I read about health issues that effect lesbian demographics (higher rates of breast cancer, obesity, and depression.) When I’m with men, I read about health issues that effect straight men (coronary issues, blood pressure, and emotional issues esp. around anger.) When I date people of color, I research POC health/discrimination/etc. issues, especially issues around dating white people (mental/health effects of internalized racism, institutionalized racism, the types of micro-aggressions I may be likely to commit.) When I date people with less money, I pay for shit. When I date people who are messy, I organize their shit (even though I’m also really messy.) When I date people with physical limitations, I massage their shit (weird Emma past: I went to massage school.)
But, especially with men, this energy feels so unidirectional. Women are frequently more reciprocative, but men often seem completely uninterested in helping me improve my life in any way. They often care about impressing me, by having nice shit, or looking good, or pulling in bank. But, they almost never take a look at my life and ask themselves “what is Emma missing, and how could I fill that role?”
snowghoul
kianamaiart
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
gracieabrams
vaporwave
romaincrisis
