My mother holds strong beliefs about traditional gender roles. She views marriage as one of the pinnacle achievements for a woman. While I respect her viewpoint, I realize that even she doesn’t fully understand what’s best for me. Like many parents, she draws from her own life experiences and aspirations, hoping I’ll have a better path than she did. However, she fails to see that I am content with my life, even if it doesn’t align with her vision.
Prioritizing my own desires led me to the life I wanted, and I have no regrets.
To illustrate my mother’s perspective, consider her pride when I graduated from college and her excitement when I finally tied the knot. But let’s rewind a bit.
After college, I made a bold move across the country. My mother was concerned; I was just 21 and had never lived independently. I don’t blame her for worrying. The first few years were challenging, and I struggled financially, opting for roommates until I could afford my own space. As an ambivert, I thrive on social interaction while also needing time to recharge alone.
By the time I was 22, I finally had my own apartment, and I cherished my independence. Around this time, my mother began pressing me about marriage. I quickly informed her that I felt too young to even consider it. I had no thoughts of settling down; my goal was to find my footing in life. I figured 27 was the minimum age I would consider marriage, and kids? They weren’t even on my radar at that time.
I experienced various relationships throughout my 20s, including two serious ones that could have led to marriage, but didn’t. The first was with a guy who proposed when we were both just 22. We had known each other since childhood and had only been dating for nine months. I firmly declined, thinking, “Absolutely not!” I was already feeling stifled, envisioning a future filled with mundane chores and constant reminders for him to tidy up.
The second relationship was better, starting when I was 25 and lasting for two years. We spent nearly every day together, yet he never invited me to meet his family, which became a point of contention. I suspected his mother might not approve of our interracial relationship. The breaking point came on my 27th birthday when he chose to attend a family event over celebrating with me. I ended the relationship, asserting that if he was embarrassed to introduce me to his family, then we were done.
My mother was even more disheartened than I was. She had hoped I’d finally settle down. At 27, the conversation shifted to whether I wanted children. I explained that my priority was to ensure I could take care of myself without relying on a partner.
As I entered my 30s, my mom’s inquiries persisted. She started to worry I might end up a “spinster” if I didn’t marry soon. But I was comfortable with my solitude. Tired of renting, I began searching for a condo. When I was in escrow, she suggested I wait to buy a home with my future husband. I appreciated her concern, but why should I postpone homeownership because of my single status? I was excited—albeit nervous—about becoming a first-time homeowner at 35.
The following years were spent focusing on my career and dating. I entered my next serious relationship at 37 and married at 40. Looking back, I question whether there was genuine love between us, but he was kind, and we got along. Perhaps my mother’s influence seeped into my decisions. While I still cherished my independence, I felt an increasing sense of loneliness.
Mom was overjoyed at my marriage, shifting her questions from “Don’t you want kids?” to “You know you’re getting too old for children.” At that point, I realized I didn’t want to have any. I remained married for nearly eight years, quickly recognizing that I would likely be raising children alone, as my husband adhered to the belief that child-rearing was solely the woman’s responsibility. With his sporadic work schedule in film and television, he wasn’t even involved in basic household tasks. This dynamic made me see a future filled with dissatisfaction. Ultimately, we divorced.
Now, I find myself in a committed relationship with someone I’ve known for years, and we plan to marry next year. We share laughter and are best friends. We’ve openly discussed our views on gender roles, both agreeing that they are fluid and subjective. He enjoys cooking, and we often collaborate in the kitchen. Cleaning and household projects are shared responsibilities; we take on tasks together or hire help when needed.
My mother absolutely adores him. This relationship suits me perfectly. What works for you is what matters most—don’t let anyone dictate your views on gender roles. If you desire a traditional setup, pursue it. If not, that’s equally valid. As long as both partners agree, there’s no right or wrong way to navigate your relationship.
For additional insights on family planning and the nuances of relationships, check out this resource on pregnancy and explore this informative piece on home insemination. For expert advice on gender roles, you can also refer to this authority on the topic.
Summary
The author shares her journey of navigating traditional gender roles in relationships, emphasizing the importance of defining one’s own path. Despite familial expectations, she prioritizes her independence and personal happiness, ultimately finding a partner who shares her beliefs on fluid gender roles.