Wow. Today I actually had someone tell me that is was sad that I was an independent woman. No. Really.
I posted a comic strip on social media about Rapunzel in the tower. She had WIFI and satellite TV and food arriving by a dragon delivery service. She wasn’t interested in throwing down her hair for some strange man to climb up and “rescue” her. She was doing quite fine by herself, thank you very much.
It was a cute, if silly, affirmation that women can indeed happily attend to their own needs, should they so choose.
Then a guy I know commented that it was “sad” that this comic was so “like me”.
I wonder what makes him so sad? The facts that I’m a generally happy person, that solitary doesn’t necessarily equate to lonely, that I’m capable and competent without being dependent, all seem like inherently good things. I’m not a man hater, nor opposed to love. However, I’m not pining away for things that aren’t currently a part of my life. Again, why would this make someone sad?
This my friends is the kind of prevalent, backhanded misogyny that women constantly deal with.