My boyfriend and I moved in together about three months ago, and all is going well. We have what I think is a pretty nice division of labor. He does all the cooking and food shopping, and I do the cleaning, no big deal. Since we’ve started dating/cohabitating, my general understanding of how to cook has gone down by, like, a zillion points.
These days I have a really hard time feeding myself if my boyfriend hasn’t made something (thank you Seamless).
Source: RSVPOnline
But you know what? I feel like our labor isn’t equal. I feel like my boyfriend does all the work. And that’s because his work results in an end product — dinner. While mine is a little bit more abstract. As in: Oh yes, we don’t live in filth and the dishes are generally cleaned once a day. We both do the parts of our household chores that we enjoy — I mean, I’m an anal retentive Virgo who actually likes cleaning, go figure.
I think I’ve been super brainwashed into thinking that food = love. In my family, special occasions are marked with delicious, slaved-over meals and perfectly baked desserts. And the fact that my dude does all the cooking, and that I’m seemingly illiterate in the kitchen, makes me feel like I lack some basic way of expressing my love and appreciation for him.
Source: Playbuzz
I think I’m totally used to the trope where a woman shows that she loves her man by making him a home-cooked meal. But since that’s what he does, I’m feeling a bit at a loss.
Anybody else out there have the same complex?
Original Julie Gerstein
