I hit the age where everyone I knew was getting married, then the age where everyone was having kids, now I’ve officially entered the age where everyone I know is getting divorced. I didn’t think this was going to happen until I was in my mid 30s or so… but here we are.
When my female friends get divorced I support them. We go out for dinner and coffee, I listen to them and usually end up crying with them… not because I’m especially sympathetic but mostly because I’m the kind of person who cries at the drop of a hat. I drop random “You’re Amazing” cards in their mailbox when they don’t expect them, offer to take care of their kids when they need it and all the other things good friends do for each other when they’re going through a tough time.
When my dude friends get divorced though there’s a switch in my brain that gets flipped suddenly.
This is what is happening in reality.
But this is what I see.
Suddenly they’re a little lost puppy. A lost puppy who needs me to take it home and feed it. And like I do when there’s any little lost puppy I turn into this.
Nothing anyone can say will change a thing, my desire to feed these men is down right compulsive. When he’s not around I have a firm grasp on the reality of the situation, but when he’s in front of me it’s like I’m fully convinced he will starve to death if I don’t bake him a casserole. Like I’m completely blind to the knowledge that right now there are thousands of college students existing on nothing but ramen noodles and frozen Totino’s pizzas, or the fact that I myself did that for years so I know first hand that it’s totally possible to go large spans of time without actually cooking anything.
I’ve never had anyone fight me on it. Who argues when you offer to make them dinner? And I secretly suspect there really is more of that afore-mentioned ramen and frozen pizza business going on than they care to admit.
I know this is the #1 biggest way in which I gender stereotype but I see no likelihood of it stopping anytime soon… and I feel like if the most discriminatory thing I do involves me forcing someone to eat a giant plate of chicken parmesan then I’m probably doing morally ok.