#18 in a Series...Single Ladies, Double Standards

The other night I stepped into the local pub on Main Street and was greeted by a rousing chorus of, “Terri!”

Not. 

Gosh, I’d feel awkward if everybody DID know my name.  But why should I?  Can’t a married woman who’s…periodically single feel comfortable enough to step out and have a beer without a friend or a spouse?

I was raised in the 70’s by a mom who pushed my sister and me to be independent, strong, and feminist.  The world should be my oyster, right? 

Mike goes out and watches games alone all the time.  I like football, and sometimes I want to go watch an NFL game that’s not on in my market.  But if I go alone, I feel like a barfly.  Perhaps I feel awkward sitting alone in a bar or restaurant because it leaves me open to unwanted advances.

Now don’t get me wrong—I do like to feel attractive.  Don’t we all?  But I recently joked about needing to wear a tent dress or a puffy coat when I grocery shop to ward off unwanted advances.  Men regularly follow me through the store.  I’ve seen more than one look at my left hand to see if I’m wearing a wedding ring.  One man yelled across the parking lot, “Hey—are you married?  Can I take you out to dinner?”  Yikes.  Another man put my cart away for me and told me I was a beautiful lady.  This is all very flattering, but it makes me feel vulnerable.  Especially because Mike’s out of town so much.

I stopped shopping at a certain large discount store for the same reason.  I couldn’t get out of there without being propositioned.

Kelly said the other day that maybe this whole experiment is about learning how to be alone.  Because I will always be alone, at some level, for the rest of my life.  Daphni will go to college.  Mike will continue to travel even after I move back in with him.  I need to figure out how to do things alone.  Because I’ll be starting over in a new city in a year and a half.

I like to go shopping by myself.  But do I want to shop all the time? Truly, no.

Double standards still exist, of course.

Notice how guys can go anywhere they like, but somehow they get a pass on being there for family stuff?  Mike has never seen Daphni dressed for a high school dance.  He’s missed plays and birthdays and dance recitals.  I know he would prefer to be with us, but he’s gotta work.  Conversely, it’s not ok for moms to miss any of their kids’ special moments or they are bad mothers.  Even if they gotta work, too. 

Sunday evening, I went alone to the pub to watch football and while I was there, made conversation with six different people, five of them men.  We trash-talked our former quarterback, praised his rookie replacement,  recalled our team's last ill-fated run for a Super Bowl title, and discussed the merits of kick-boxing over yoga.  I was fine.