Traditionally a relationship is a partnership where to people make decisions equally. They talk it through with each other, and share the burden together and are there for each other. This, of course, is in the perfect world. Unfortunately, despite the Suffragettes die-hard attempts at equality, we may get the vote in parliament but not always in the relationship. Are we as a gender still submissive in the decision making, or is it that the males just haven't matured? Or have we not matured at all, and are we all on the same wavelength just we nag more? Do our opinions not count as highly as man's out of the workplace as well, with us taking control of food shopping but "not being able" to handle the bills? Overall, is there really equality in a relationship?
When it comes to sex, equality can be good and bad. Obviously it's good in the way that at any point one would be willing to try something for the other. And although that's a quality worthy of boasting about in a relationship, as it gives you the opportunity to explore the body and mind of another in ways you may not think of... it's bad as in sometimes you want to have sex, not talk about it. Maybe a little inequality is good when he comes home, throws you on the bed and gets out his Long John Silver. This is of course, if he is a tentative enough lover to understand that although he may be in control, that means letting you loose. If, however, the sex is unequal in that it goes one person's way, and ends once that person has had their way then that's when you either have a long talk, or they're out in their underwear.
When it comes to opinions equality is certainly debatable. In one corner we have: Inequality for Women. Ria and Mr Britz have been dating for a long time. They've overcome troubles of different timetables, living far apart and Girls Who Don't Care About Relationship Status. Yet the spark has just started to fizzle out. Sad as it is, Ria realised she couldn't hold onto the past any longer and decided to talk it through with Mr Britz. The discussion resulted in one sentence from Ria, and an hour long speech from Mr Britz. He agreed, but his opinion had the added edge of Blame: on Ria. She always had a problem, always nagged him, never understood that sometimes he's just tired at the end of the day and wants to watch the football in peace, that on the weekends he likes to see his friends. Of course Ria was prone to the odd nag - it's in a woman's genes - but accusing her of holding him back from friends or invading his personal time? Definitely an exaggeration. As women go, Ria is a strong believer in personal space and spending time apart - but considering that the day of their "conversation" was the first day they spent together just the two of them for a month, minus the ten minutes of phone sex they had three weeks before (which ended when he came) he didn't have much of a basis for an argument.
The conversation was strung out for the next week and a half before Ria gave up. They had the same opinion, that the spark had disappeared and they seemed to be fading out, but he refused to admit it just happened naturally and assuming there had to be blame, it would be her. His refusal to even let her defend herself, never mind lay any blame on him, led to an inequality in the relationship for her, and a herpes rumour for him.
Of course men have their fare share of inequality too. In the other corner: Riley, sick of Unfaithful Married Man making her feel less guest of honour and more Pretty Woman, had begun dating The Hobbit, a man who tainted to her every need and was, without fail, at her side as soon as could be, buying her coffee, taking her out to expensive restaurants, minding his p's and q's. Nothing harmless, maybe a bit too nice, but nothing to cry about. So why is it when one night, they're at a plush Chinese restaurant in the West End, and he reaches over to her side of the Chinese platter they're sharing... with disastrous consequences. Needless to say she never got a call from Hobbit again, he never ate Chinese again, and neither of them went to the Chinese restaurant again. Hearing your friend overreact over a chicken ball is bad enough to make you cringe, without the realisation that if that was a man in her position, the feminists would freak.
It seems there's always someone in charge. The annoyer and the annoyee. That is a pessimistic way to look at it admittedly, but when you're in a relationship where it's long term and you're living together it can be the way you see it at times. But despite this, there can be ways in which you are equal - ways in which you'd prefer not to be.
Mr Millwall and I have been living together since October. At first everyone's on their best behaviour. He puts the toilet seat down, I don't complain if he sits on my favourite side of the sofa, we make each other coffee's and pour glasses of wine, and try not to steal the cover. Then it starts to slide. Of course it does nobody can keep up that kind of sit-up-straight, chew with small bites behaviour forever. He'll give me a massage "later", I make sure I get on that side of the sofa first, and bits of pee appear on the toilet seat. But although this may cause nagging from either side, it's equal. We are both equally manly within our habits. Maybe it's having a man around the house as an influence, but although there's this nagging buzzing inside my head locked in like a cage I won't mind the clothes and magazines scattered across my floor making it impossible to move. I used to feel self conscious blowing my nose in front of others, yet I'll openly walk around hooting for all I'm worth (we are however, unequal in that I will ALWAYS use a tissue). We both eat unusual mixes of meals, and snack on crisps and chocolate uncontrollably throughout the day. My 100 sit-ups a night have dwindled to 0, and you know what? I honestly couldn't care. Admittedly I do at times look at myself and feel more Bridget Jones than Audrey Hepburn, particularly when I (eep!) allow a trumpet solo to unashamedly slip out while while watching a film. And although certain habits that have rubbed off on me I have toned down - I've reorganised my room, stopped the trumpeting unless absolutely necessary, and am allowing some healthier food back into the kitchen. He also puts the seat down, maintains hygiene, and offers to give me a back massage when my boobs have caused more ache and pains than they're worth. All in all, a pretty equal relationship. I'm not saying it's always perfect - nothing is always plain sailing. And where we may sometimes disagree in opinions, and may enjoy the company of others from time to time, I know I can come home to him at the end of the day and he'll make me a glass of wine, and I'll let him sit on that side of the sofa.
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