As much as I complain about children, I don't actually hate children (but I do often find them annoying). I think babies are cute to look at, but that doesn't mean I feel the need to have one. I see advantages and disadvantages in both lifestyles. The day-to-day of childrearing (PTA meetings, back-to-school shopping, birthday parties--either hosting or attending) horrifies me. More so than, say, the pain of childbirth or the sleepless months of tending to a newborn. I'm aware of the challenges in forming a decent human being, and the risks of bringing someone into a f*ed up world.
So, as unfashionable as it is these days to leave things to chance--to say, "I could lead a good life either way"--that's just how I feel. I see many more disadvantages to "settling" for the sake of having a child--I've seen that go wrong too many times. The only options for me are the right family or the family I have now.
***
I went to happy hour the other day, for the first time in ages. I was chatting with a bunch of guys in my department, none of whom I've worked with directly, and--I think, but it's a happy-hour blur--the topic of mansplaining came up. And I had to offer up the quintessentail, egregious example; I told the guys that this dude who knew nothing about the issue (i.e., BE) would argue with me about a certain issue. The guys instantly recoiled. It was amazing. One of them said, "why the f* would anyone argue with you about [that thing]." Right?? Now, I replied, there are plenty of people who know as much as I do (or nearly as much, or a lot more), and my discussions with them don't take the form of arguments for that reason: we discuss. We ask questions of each other. Reasonable people can disagree on the issues. But to reasonably disagree, you have to start from a place of knowing what the f* you're talking about. It's really easy to be adamant, when you don't.
I told BE at the time that I wasn't interested in having these conversations with him (and I later told him--once it became clear to me, too late, that he took any interaction as some sort of sign of interest on my part--that I wasn't interested in having conversations with him at all). Not because of his opinion, but because he was just a random dude with an uninformed opinion. I have never understood the arrogance of random men and their opinions (not least because I, personally, avoid forming opinions with regard to things I don't understand well).
I think I posted, the other day, "when a random man has an opinion about how you should carry your face," and the women of the world can attest to the utter idiocy and arrogance of dudes' telling us to smile. The video in the link made the ridiculousness even more explicit: "I've just met you, but I'm going to figure out what's missing in your life, and offer it to you."
Which reminds me of RM, whom I've mostly forgotten. Really. But when one of our numerous, unfortunate interactions does come to mind, it's that of the pearl earrings. And I think the gift example stands out because I had to constantly tell BE, too, that I did not want to receive gifts from him. See, gifts are context-specific. A gift should reflect the relationship you have, not the relationship you want (unless you're certain that the otehr person shares your aspirations). And when someone tells you to stop giving them gifts, period, you do it. To proceed otherwise is disrespectful; it's a clumsy attempt to try to force your way into someone's life, after they've made it clear they don't want you there. But I've dwelt on this--the appropriateness of gifts--too many times, and it's not what this post is about.
That said, I want to make it clear, if you've missed my previous musings on the matter, that my powerful gut reaction (of utter discomfort and disgust) to RM's gift was for those reasons discussed above--I'd already told him to stop giving me things, and he had no business giving me jewelry in any case. I love the things that people give me, when they're appropriate to the relationship we have--even jewelry. I love the bracelet my friend brought me back from DRC, mostly because it symbolizes the massive effort she went to to bring her daughter home, but also because it's an attractive bracelet. I've also given jewelry as a gift--for example, I gave a set of pearl earrings (among other things, I think) to a family friend when she graduated from high school. Although I'm about to focus my eye-rolling on the gift itself, the gift itself is only an issue because of the other issue.
So, to recap (or read the full story here): RM had been living here two months and was already driving me up the f*ing wall. I already had reason to ask him to stop giving me things. I didn't tell him that my birthday was coming up, but he asked me several weeks after it had passed when it was, and I told him, thinking it was safe. But he came back from his weekend away with a birthday gift for me, which, as you've figured, I didn't think was appropriate. I felt bad about hurting his feelings, but I felt more strongly about standing my ground--I wasn't going to let him overrun my boundaries, which he was constantly pushing--so I told him I couldn't accept the gift. It was just too much. I tried to be as gracious about it as possibly but he was clearly hurt. The next day he was slamming doors and giving me the cold shoulder. We talked it out--I'll spare you the details--but here's what's pertinent to the "random man has an opinion" part: he told me about how he went into this store (Mikimoto) and described me to the sales assistant, and the sales assistant, based on RM's description, found just the perfect earrings for me (i.e., your standard pearl studs).
Let me reiterate that I'm not rolling my eyes at the "standardness" of the gift. I'm rolling my eyes at the fact that RM thought he could move in here and within three months, figure me out and go out and get just what I never knew I needed: pearl studs! Random man has figured out that I need a pair of pearl studs in my life!
That I already had a pair or two or three of pearl studs in my life matters in this context. It doesn't matter in the context of how generally inappropriate the gift was. If, say, a family friend had given me a pair of pearl studs, I would have graciously accepted them and added them to my collection (perhaps displacing an existing pair in favor of one of sentimental value). Just take a minute to appreciate the
***
By the time BE reared his head, I'd developed quite the muscle memory for rejecting unwanted gifts. When someone oversteps your boundaries--as RM did so often--your gut reaction is to freeze. And then you feel dirty for having let that person overstep your boundaries. And they depend on that. But it didn't take me long--even as my family and friends slammed me for it--to start saying no to RM. No, I will not accept your gifts (because I've already told you more than once to stop giving them). No I will not feel guilty about not spending my evenings talking to you. I'd also been through the gift-rejection routine with mom--though that was different because it was a lower bar in terms of being direct with her. But the fact that I'd had to do it so often ("no, I will not put this piece of furniture in my house; I didn't choose it, I don't have room for it, and in fact I told you not to bring it, so I don't care that you drove it all the way down here anyway: you can drive it all the way back") helped in that my tolerance for accepting unwanted crap was worn. I couldn't take it anymore. I was done with what (some) other people insisted on giving me. With mom, it was always a form of control: how dare you pick your own furniture, your own decor, when I'll do it for you, and by the way, you have no taste, you should really take what I give you. It's not entirely for better that I'm skeptical about gifts as a result, but it's probably for the better that I'm now well-practiced in defying social expectations to accept ones that are inappropriate.
To be clear, again, this isn't to say that I'm ungrateful or ungracious (i.e., mom when she told Nina's dad that the piece of art he'd brought her from Georgia was ugly and didn't match her decor). Let me restate that I love appropriate gifts. I love the thought behind appropriate gifts. And it's because I so value gifts as appropriate that I so resent ones that are inappropriate. And I'm grateful that, at this time, there's no source of inappropriate gifts in my life.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment