I have a job that makes no allowances for the fact I have children who don’t always get sick with three weeks’ advance notice.
The boarding school and nursery assume I wait around at home with nothing to do but attend conferences and plays and sports events on their schedule. No wonder I’m filled with a permanent nebulous, undirected rage that my life has become a Gordian knot of obligations, responsibilities, guilt, duties and expectations.
I’m angry with a world that still doesn’t acknowledge how hard women work, in and out of the workplace. I’m angry with men for dumping the childrearing problem in our laps. I’m angry with women for refusing to admit it’s too much, that we can’t do everything all the time.
In the days when a woman stayed home to raise a family while a man went out to work to put bread on the table, this division of labour was fair enough. But why these days, when women work just as hard as men outside the home, are they still responsible for pretty much everything that goes on in it?
I feel guilty that I’m not pulling my weight by being at the office – even though I work just as hard and long as anyone else – and I feel guilty because I’m not giving my daughter the 24/7, one- on- one time a fulltime mother would be able to.
Well, look at what happened:
You allowed the marketers to convince you that you were “empowered” by having a career, and so you took up the cause of feminism.
You convinced yourself that all men were out to get you, when opening your legs for the price of a few drinks brought out the predators in sheep’s clothing — even if they were a relatively small percentage of the male population.
You also convinced yourself, thanks to some deft marketing, that you wanted to have both a career and a family.
Now you’re angry at men for not rising up to fill in the gap. From a male perspective, all of the above things are women’s choices and have been made politically inaccessible, so they just watch.
Don’t confuse lack of agreement that your plan is sane with laziness.