Striking a Balance

Sometimes I struggle with the reconciliation of being both a woman who can stand on her own and handle hers while being one that is vulnerable and with whom a man can feel like an asset. My mother wasn't always breathing down my neck about how important it was to be strong and independent and take care of yourself. She didn't have to. She exuded it. And she admits that this may have been done to a fault, a result of her being forced to grow up at a young age and take care of herself. But the very idea of strength is something I’ve always associated with her. So I got that education just by paying attention. (Incidentally, I learned how to brush my teeth and cook in the same fashion).

But the speech I would get ad nauseam? ALL of the many things a man should do where I was concerned. I think that she's always been so afraid that I'll repeat her mistakes, that there’s been a sense of desperation in making me aware of all the positives, pitfalls and red flags. Still, it drove me crazy. (I hate repetition. Tell me once and I'm good. Anymore than that and you're on my nerves). Once, when I was 16, I went on a double date with my boyfriend at the time, his cousin and a friend of mine. When it was over, my boyfriend and his cousin left, in their car, with my friend and I waiting for my mom to come pick us up. When she got there and discovered that the guys had not only left, but did so in a car that they didn't use to drop us both off, she was livid. I heard about it all the way home, and then for a while after that. "You're a diamond," she would say. "Never let a man treat you like cubic zirconia."

I wasn't allowed to pick guys up. If we were going out, I couldn't be the one to drive. If we wanted to hang out, he had to figure out a way to get to me and how to get home. I couldn't be the one always trying to arrange outings or make things happen. Let him pursue. Let him plan. Let him do for you. I could never set a precedent where I was doing more or was more invested then he was. I found a lot of it extreme and biased, based on her experiences. Either way, it all stuck. But as I've gotten older, I've learned to appreciate it more, even if it has made things more complicated.

In my head I hear her rattling off these commandments I'm supposed to abide by, but then I can also see her - years of buying all the Christmas presents, but putting two names on the cards, or packing up whole houses and moving an entire family all by herself - and I’m confused. How do I merge the Independent Woman and “Cater 2 U” girl into one seamless package? I've yet to come up with a sensible answer.

I open my own doors. I'm always a little thrown off when a guy pulls out my chair.  I've approached a guy and asked him for his number several times in the past.I'm not looking for anyone's money. I take care of my own battles. (Only once did I ask a guy to take over a conflict for me. Yes, he handled it better than I ever could have and I was grateful, but I hated not being able to). I give off the "Candace can handle it" vibe by very nature of how I grew up and I tend to leave a guy feeling like he serves no real purpose…or so I’ve been told. I'm not looking for a knight in shining armor.

But then there's the flip side.

I like it better when you're the one to plan where we're going. I'm almost always happy with whatever the plan is, simply because you're the one who planned it. (This is not to say that I'm not good for an outing or coming up with an idea for us). I want you to be the one walking closest to the curb. I prefer if you drive. You should wait for me to go through a door before you attempt to. I'll open it for myself, but if you don’t wait until I'm done going through it, you’re a douche and I'm annoyed. I'll cry in front of you before I'll do it in front of my friends. When I'm sick, I want the soup and the tea and the care and attention. And when you do it, I'm thrilled. Something as small as recognizing that I haven't eaten all day, and picking a restaurant and a menu for me to choose from, goes an incredibly long way. I send the message that a man's presence is not only wanted, but needed. I'm looking for a knight in shining armor.

See why this is problematic?

I'm a sensitive thug, if you will. But I imagine that if all the inconsistency gives me a headache, it has got to do the same for someone else. I can't let you eat all of my food for ten months, but then get pissed during the eleventh one when you refuse to pitch in or help pay for some of it, when I didn't ask you to all along. Or cry on your shoulder, but then forget that you're walking with me, speed up and leave you behind. It's one extreme or the other. I'm looking for a happy medium.

I was told to be open and possess some level of vulnerability and sensitivity. But I was raised to be capable and self-reliant. And so, dear void, I am figuring out a way to be both, where the two can complement each other.