The title is mine
This article is alarmingly true in ways that nearly bring tears to my eyes. [Referencing this]
One of my favorite hobbies is cooking. I cook a good 90% of the meals for my family. And for guests, visitors, strangers, people at work. I’m no Martha Stewart, but I’m a decent cook, and I really enjoy doing it. Not the cutting, not the standing at the stove, not dabbling in the spice rack, but just the overall act of creating food that other people enjoy. Whenever my wife is wowed by something I made, she always asks “What did you put in here?” and I always respond
“Love.” She chuckles like I’m joking, then asks what I really put in there, but that was a pretty honest response. I cook with love. There’s a piece of me on each plate. There’s just something about creating an enjoyable, nourishing, and just plain tasty dish, and having other people enjoy the thing I created. To share my love in that way.
What I do today used to be what most women did all the time. Not because they were oppressed and forced to by the evil patriarchy, but because it was an admirable thing to spend the day creating something, out of love, and nourishing your family with it. To bring homemade pastries to the neighbors. To make the appetizers for your kid’s event. To invite your husband’s boss over for dinner. To share your love. Everyone’s got to eat, so the one universal way you can give your love to everyone is by feeding them.
Today, most modern women laugh and spit at the act of cooking. Or cleaning. Or folding the laundry. Or having sex with their husbands. The very notion of doing anything that serves, helps, facilitates, or gratifies another person – especially a man and especially, especially their husband--is demeaning, oppressive, and downright insulting. It’s not so much that women brag about not knowing how to cook. They brag that they don’t have to cook.
That’s really the modern woman’s ideal. The less they have to do, the more bragging rights they have among other women. The ideal situation is to marry a hot, wealthy, superman of male candidates, but not have to get a job and work, cook for the family, clean the house and do laundry, or have sex with her husband. That’s the epitome of self-worth in the most women’s eyes. I’m so hot that my husband “loves me for me”! Which is code for: I don’t have to do anything, just exist. My vagina is so valuable, just for being a vagina, that I don’t have to do anything for anybody else. Everybody does for me. I’m a princess. That is the highest epitome of female bragging rights among their peers.
Oh, but if the husband ever loses his job, doesn’t take the trash out, or leaves the toilet seat up, he’s getting divorced. A princess shouldn’t have to put up with that shit.