7 Reasons Everyone’s *Slightly* Afraid Of An Independent Woman

An independent woman sounds oh-so-sexy, but why then are so many people afraid of an independent woman?

There are many reasons and most of them are never directly stated; instead, they’re implied and internalized. As one of those “independent” women, I often feel that, for men, perhaps it’s not that I’m not “enough” for them, but that I’m too much.

Other than car repairs and fixing things, I take care of everything. Yes, I’m one of those women who knows when she needs to ask either a man or woman for help, and that’s when it involves repairs.

So if you’re an independent woman who can’t meet the right guy, or has a tough time with friendships or colleagues — or are a man who’s in love with an independent woman — read on!

Read More: 7 Reasons Everyone’s *Slightly* Afraid Of An Independent Woman

Scared?

Laura

How to Get Divorced in 5 Easy Steps: A go-to-guide for people who don’t know any better.

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Are you unhappily married?

Are you too lazy to bother trying anymore?

Do you not give a crap?

Do you remember your wife’s/husband’s name?

Were you in a coma or under severe sedation during your wedding?

Think about those answers, and let’s talk about how to ruin your marriage and get divorced in just 5 easy steps. Continue reading

Mom at Work: The Disappearing Mother

Today is my birthday.

Do you know what my best present was?

I didn’t get many, but my best present was seeing my daughter.

My best present was putting her to bed. Bathing her.

Eating some cake with her.

See, I’m a working mom now with a long commute. So I feel as if I am slowly disappearing from her life.

I’ve never dropped her off at school. I’ve never picked her up.

I’ve met her teachers all but one, (there are 3) once.

She tells me stories of kids whose faces I don’t know.

She has a day that I know little about.

I know this is bound to be for every parent, but it is hard being Mom at work.

Being Mom far away at work.

Does my 2 year-old think I love her less?

Does she remember when we were home together?

Does she think of me when she is hurt at school or tired?

Do I register on her mind?

Am I doing the right thing?

Mom at work has to be everything: good employee, great mom, multitasker, and police.

Making sure everyone else who is taking care of her is doing his or her job since you can’t be there to do it yourself.

Hopefully one day my daughter will say, “My mom is a successful woman. And heck, she is a good mom too.”

Just wish it were easier.

For now, I will look forward to bathtime and bedtime, the weekends, and the five minutes I see her before I go off to work. Maybe it’s not the quantity, but truly the quality we spend with our kids that matters. I try to remind myself of that.

Be good to yourselves Mommies at Work.

Mom At Work: the 2nd generation of working moms

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I recently went back to work. I like my job a lot. I work with smart, nice, and hard-working people. I enjoy using my writing skills, and the office environment is positive. I hunted for a job for a long time, and I was thinking I was this close to becoming a mail-order girlfriend for some guy in a foreign country when voila, a job came along. Finally.

Yet going back to work is not without its costs, but what can I do? Money doesn’t grow on trees like every parent from the beginning of time has told us.

My mom stayed at home until I was of kindergarten age. When she went back, I was not happy. I hated the fact that she worked at night. At least I saw her, but not for too long. She worked a graveyard shift, and so I remember on Hannukkah opening gifts and then leaving a thank you note for her to read when she got home. It felt sad doing that.

The first time I really angry about her being gone was when my 1st grade class had a dinosaur contest and she couldn’t make it.

That morning, she handed me a little brown felt teddy bear pin with a black bow. He was adorable, but I hated him with a passion.

“Stupid Bear,” I thought, knowing that no bear could take the place of seeing your parent’s face in a crowd full of nameless faces as you sing awesome songs about TRex and Brontosaurus.

I especially hated going to babysitters’ homes, although they were all pretty nice. I especially liked one woman who had  a quiet home and two sons my age. Still, I couldn’t wait to get home and be in my house, with my things. It annoyed me.

Now, the shoe is on the other foot. My kid is 2.5 in just a few days. She’s younger than I was when my mom first left me, so in some ways it means she will get used to it, but on the other hand, she’s too young to complain to me like I did to my mom.

My industry is rather far from my home, so I have to make quite a trek to get to work, at least until we move.

Both Grandparents and Dad helps with the pick-up and drop-off at school. Montessori was the program we chose, and so far, we are all happy. It’s just not the same though. It’s not the same hearing about your child’s day from other people. I feel cheated knowing that everyone is getting so much time with her, yet I am not. And on the weekends and evenings when I am not home as late, I eat up the minutes I have with her.

Walking through the bus station today, I saw a little girl that reminded me of her, and I felt like I could cry.

Being a mom is crappier than the books make it out to be sometimes.

If you are working, you are missing your child, and feeling as if you’re not the best worker because you may have to leave early to get your kid. Or maybe you’re on the phone with daycare or the school about your child. Maybe you are worried he or she is sick.

When you are home, you are so happy, and try not to think of work, but that can be tough.

When I was little, many moms worked, but a lot stayed at home as well. For my daughter, the tables have turned. Many moms are working as compared to staying home.

I just feel as if working has made me a “mom on the sidelines,” and the worst aspect is relinquishing control to people who may mean 100% well, but just aren’t you.

I know Dads are awesome, but the title of Mom is one that’s earned through pregnancy and beyond.

I feel as if I should always be there, and not that I cannot always be there, somehow I have decided that this means I am less worthy of a mom.

That I am failing in some ways.

Yet work brings such satisfaction and money, that I know these things are pivotal for me, and in turn, my kid. I’m a role model, yet I wish there was a better way to balance things, as so many of us moms do.

I remember the crazy feeling I would sometimes get as a SAHM, and it truly can be emotionally draining and lonely, but man, SAHM cherish the time with your kids while you have them. Soon enough, you will be getting reports on your child’s daily life from a teacher, stranger, or family member, and while it’s great for my kid to be socialized, have a village of people around her, and learn at school, it feels as if I am slowly saying goodbye before I am ready.

I guess that’s what being a parent is though: slowly saying goodbye while teaching our kids to be independent

Heart on Sleeve, Foot In Mouth

I am in my thirties. I am capable of change, but not capable of transforming myself into some other person. No one probably really is. A quiet person is not going to become loud most likely, although I’ve never ran any stats on the matter.

I know who I am, but sometimes I wish I were a little different, although then I would probably be dull and boring, or possibly easily satisfied. I will never know.

I am heart on the sleeve, and foot in the mouth. I say what I feel, I show all my cards, and rarely will I play a hand in some crafty way when dealing with people. I wish I had the ability to play it cool, or just be a distant bitch sometimes, but guess what, apparently I am the sensitive romantic type and so that means I am all poetry and passion, rather than strategy and logic.

I recognize that thanks to my lust for life and people, I am a fun person to be around and very loving, but sometimes, when I am feeling particularly vulnerable or afraid, I curse this gift I have.  I wish I could stealthily hide my thoughts and heart, because so many people take advantage of this whether they be female or male, friend or stranger.

It’s a weakness to be nice. It’s a weakness to be passionate or emotional. It must be related to being crazy or female, oh yeah…that whole stereotype that drives me nuts. Don’t even get me on that rant.

I wish it were more valued to be a warm and passionate person. Without people like me, there would be no poetry, no tasteful erotic movies, no music, no art, and pulse.

Yes, I am not a bitch. I remember passing by a book at Barnes and Nobles when I was in my twenties called, “Men love Bitches,” and instead of picking up the book I thought to myself, “I am doomed.”

Sure, I can ream someone out when need be, but I am not a bitch. I am not cold. I am not the one planning your death while shaking your hand. I am the one who wants to be your friend. Who smiles at strangers and offers to help. Who puts her heart out and hopes that it indeed, won’t get smushed, yet so often it is.

I wish sometimes to be that bitchy woman that apparently exists in the universe, but I never will be.

Thanks to the Age of the Pinterest and DIY Mom, we average wives are in danger..

I check out numerous pages, blogs, and social media sites to see mommies and wives who cook everything from scratch. Every toy is hand-built. Nothing is made in China.

While I strive to avoid unhealthy food and junk ( I’m insane about avoiding processed stuff and juice –only for a treat), I am not a DIY mommy truly. I try to DIY and love/insist on keeping the television off and expanding on pretend play, but I am not a Pinterest Mommy. I am not  DIY mommy.

Some of the most mouth-watering foods and recipes are posted by the best mom cooks and chefs.

I’m starting to feel envious.

I would love one of these moms to be my wife.

All I need is for you to cook and never complain. Be sure to clean up after your cooking projects. Don’t leave any dirty dishes in the sink. When you’re done doing the cooking, might you make a bunch of toys and play objects for my kid to play with? Because you’re my Pinterest Wife, and that’s what wives do.

I will sit here and do what I do best. Educate, Enact a billion character voices. Teach my kid how to sing. Read to her. Teach her how to count in French and what the words cavort, cajole, and charm mean.

The Pinterest Wives of the World are making the regular wives and moms look bad. It’s like the PTA mother of the year on steroids:

The PTA mom brought cupcakes, stayed home, and never yelled.

The Pinterest DIY mom caters full events, makes all toys, keeps a clean house, never yells, never picks her nose when anyone is looking or flirts with younger men, and always darns her husband’s socks.

The Pinterest DIY mom can afford to stay home and buy everything organic, including organic band-aids. Hell, the DIY mom makes her own damn band-aids. Her husband goes to work daily with a homemade meal, and for every holiday event at work, he brings a full-spread, courtesy of DIY mom.

When I make dinner every night, I clap for myself.

When I have taught my daughter how to draw Charlie Brown, I cheer.

These moms and wives are making the regular folks like me, an endangered species. Pretty soon, no one is going to want to befriend us on the playground, and our husbands will leave us for more crafty types who make their own clothes, paint their nails with homemade nailpolish, and even furnish and decorate the house like a professional.

The average woman will be home in fear that she will be ridiculed for her store-bought polish, average home, and half-assed crock pot dishes.

Instead of being alone on the swings and divorced because I can’t make homemade pie crust, I’ve decided to enlist one of you DIY moms for my very own.

I promise to water you, but I will never feed you.

You can make your own damn food.

Signed,

A mom who likes to make brownies from the package, and flirt with the young guys at the pizza place, in no particular order.

For Your Daughter

If a man is not good enough for your daughter, he is not good enough for you.

Remember this mantra when you are dating, married, or single with just a wee vibrator and Haagen-Daas to get you through the night.

We women rationalize and excuse too much, and expect too little.

Consider this the next time you spend any significant time with a partner.

I will be back darlings for more delicious dish on life and what have you. I’ve been busy, but haven’t forgotten you all.