Do we, as women, expect too much from men? Or do men expect too much from us?
Where did these expectations come from and are they reasonable? What do I
expect? Is this the norm, or am I letting guys off scott-free? I said for a
while, after a very bad break-up, that “if you expect nothing from anyone,
you’ll never be disappointed.” It was a sad and bitter way to go about
recovering the pieces of my heart. It lacked hope and trust and heart. So I’m
reapproaching the expectation angle; wanting to want things, trying to figure
out what it is that I want, but not wanting to want to much. Call me Carrie
Bradshaw, but it’s been the question on my plate for the last 48 hours. When I
was little, my parents always told me to look for a guy that could provide for
me. Needless to say, providing for me in the manner which I was accustomed was
challenging. Providing for me in the manner which I wanted was impossible. To
this day, my cousins poke fun at an imaginary “salary requirement” they said was
necessary for their friends to date me. Realizing this, I decided to provide for
myself instead of waiting for a guy to do it and eliminated the expectation of
“provider”. What did that leave? A longing for a best friend; someone I could
laugh with; someone who understood why I liked old movies and Cinderella stories
and pink. Someone who understands why I work 12 hours a day, stay up until 2,
and get up at 6 the next day. I don’t expect to be catered to, babied, or
pampered. I don’t expect a knight in shining armor, the perfect gentleman, or
anything as dashing as Cary Grant. I don’t expect him to pay all the time; I
don’t expect a date once a week. I do expect communication (sparatic, at worst,
but understandable), questions, respect (should be standard anyway). I expect to
be listened to, understood, and can only say that I will do the same in return.
I expect a date every once in a while. I expect compromise, balance, and sanity.
I expect laughter and friendship and character and wise decisions. I expect that
someone will tolerate my two left feet just to realize the pleasure of dancing
with me. I expect faults, I expect human. Does it seem like too much to ask?
Hi, I'm Whitney. I am first and foremost a child of God, a mum to two rambunctious little boys, and lucky enough to call the most amazing man I know my husband. By day, I run a stationery company, and consult at the intersection of tech and graphic design. At night, I dream of charming cottages by the sea, silk ballgowns, and a perfectly organized office.
