My Boyfriend Does Whatever He Wants

I, like so many other women in America, purchased Glennon Doyle’s latest book — Untamed. I actually wasn’t familiar with her work, nor her for that matter, before listening to an interview on a podcast… oh, technology, you beautiful bitch, you.

I consumed the audio yesterday as I scrubbed the grime from our stovetop, feeling more empowered with each crumb I swiped onto the light tile floor.

As I continued listening this afternoon, loading the dishwasher, folding laundry, and changing the sheets, my heart was radiating with thoughts, ideas, and energy.

Then, I realized how her words are contributing to my unlearning… something I’ve been doing a lot of in 2020.

But this specific unlearning doesn’t appear to be something my boyfriend has to do… because he just does whatever he wants.

Photo by Lachlan Dempsey on Unsplash

Not in a bad way, unless I’m in a mood , or unless you would’ve asked me three years ago — then, yes, he does whatever he wants in a bad way.

But no, he does whatever he wants because he inherently has that inclination inside of him. He doesn’t live in a lack mentality whatsoever.

Allow me to lay it out for you.

My boyfriend is the COO of a company — he has arranged his position as such that he can sleep in until 8:30.
He doesn’t meal prep because he figures out what he’s feeling the day of — sometimes it’s coffee and a scone, sometimes it’s a skillet situation, and some days, it’s ol’ reliable McDonalds. Honestly, who doesn’t love a McGriddle?
He stays in his basketball shorts and tee-shirt pretty much all the time… seriously, when we went to Albuquerque for Christmas, he simply added a peacoat over it. FASHUN, amirite?
His hair is reminiscent of Einstein when he doesn’t gel it, which he most often doesn’t.
He talks to his friends almost every day through gaming.
He doesn’t make the bed or do the dishes or even flush the toilet.

Okay, ew, of course he flushes the toilet… you think I’m dating a complete savage?

Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash

Now, I realize, in a routinely programmed brain, when you read this, you might think this behavior is simply laziness, which, I wouldn’t blame you for… and actually, you’d be partially right. It’s how I saw it for quite a while throughout our relationship, actually.

But, more than that, it’s honoring himself.

Here’s how the conversation went once upon a time.

“Babe, seriously, can you please do the laundry every once in a while? It’s so frustrating that I have to do your laundry every weekend… you don’t even help fold it,” I complained.

“I can hire someone to do our laundry,” he offered.

I rolled my eyes and raised my voice, “no, we don’t need someone to come in and do our laundry — it’s not a hard job. Why can’t you just help me?”

“Babe, why are you trying to make a fight out of this? I’m not asking you to do my laundry. I’m not going to feel bad for not doing it when I’m offering a solution to get it done that doesn’t cost you anything,” he remained level-headed.

I ended up huffing and puffing and undoubtedly creating a compelling narrative against him all those years ago… this narrative that he was a privileged mama’s boy that never had to do chores growing up.

Because this notion that you could make your life the way you want it, down to every last detail, was foreign to me.

Obviously this isn’t to say pawn off all your responsibilities on to someone else because you don’t feel like taking things on, but it is to say, if you have the ability to spend more time doing what lights up your soul, do it.

And you know what? When I sit here and think about it, I actually enjoy cleaning and doing laundry. It genuinely calms me and provides an opportunity to get lost in my thoughts, or in many cases, lost in an audiobook or a podcast. It’s become part of my Sunday routine, which I look forward to.

Does that make me anti-feminist? Of course it doesn’t.

Photo by Lindsey LaMont on Unsplash

What about the clothes or disheveled hair? You might also ask.

Well, what once bothered me, now bears no weight on my thoughts… okay, maaaaybe a pound here and there every once in a while.

But really… I think about how much “getting ready” is for me and how much is for other people.

How much do I really love getting laser hair removal, or getting my face microneedled?

How much do I enjoy blow drying my hair for 30 minutes? Yes, the Revlon blow out brush is cool, but the thing gets heavy!

How much pleasure do I find in sitting at the nail salon for over an hour just to have to go back in three to four weeks for a fill?

And these questions should be asked in everything I do… how much do I enjoy _______?

I can tell you, right now, I’m filled with all the happiness in the world, just sitting here on my bed, watching the sun set, writing into the abyss.

And that’s the feeling I want to hold on to, so thanks, Glennon (and boyfriend), for re-igniting that drive in me to live the most beautiful life I can imagine, down to every damn minute.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Inspirations: Mindy Kaling, Issa Rae, Lena Dunham. Trying to manifest some combination of them all + Vince Vaughn’s wit. BLACK LIVES MATTER

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