Maybe it's because, save for a handful of first and second dates, I've been single for five years and used to making my own way. Maybe it's because I'm in inching towards my mid-thirties and my perspective has changed. Maybe it's because he and I work in the same field and, therefore, the same income bracket and I have a rough idea of how much he makes. Or maybe it's just my strong sense of independence and feminist ideals… Whatever it is, I suddenly find myself in a position where after half a decade of buying my own dinners and buying my own drinks, I have a man buying them for me. And having a man buying them for me feels, well, odd.
This is Offbeat Home's archive of People posts.
"Homeowner", "renter" or "squatter" – whatever the label, these occupants take the Offbeat wherever they go.
For years, my mother accused me of testing people and trying to see how far I could push them before they left me. She was right about that much, but she never saw the why. And neither did I. Because I was too afraid to admit that terrible truth and to give up the pleasant fiction I had created about my mother. But, like all realities, it was true whether I admitted it or not. And, eventually, even I could no longer pretend and my house of cards crumpled to the ground, leaving me alone, naked of all pretense, and cast out by my mother.
A little while ago a friend sends me a message asking for specific details regarding our artichoke jar inseminations. A few days later she sends me a long response thanking me for the information and tells me that she and her husband have been trying to get pregnant, without success, for 10 months now. They have two more months to try to conceive "naturally" before their doctor will give them a referral to a fertility clinic. And in the meantime their marriage is really suffering. Sex has become a chore and they are both frustrated, grumpy, and on edge. Enter: making babies the lesbian way.
It happens slowly at first. You notice little things and you make sense of them, you brush them away with a sort of convoluted logic, not unlike a wish, and you assure yourself it can't really be happening. It is unthinkable, that someone who is so alive, so bright, brighter than almost anyone, could be dimming. Then you notice more things, and what once was unthinkable becomes undeniable, and all you want to do is to stop it, there must be away to stop it! You can't just stand back and watch them changing, can you?
My name is Sullie, and my partner and I live below the poverty line. What's more, my partner is unemployed and will likely remain that way for the rest of our lives together. So why am I okay with this? Because my partner's health issues are chronic and difficult to manage. Here are our steps to living below the poverty line on a single income…
Offbeat Bride featured an article about power, privilege, gender, and oppression when it comes to weddings which I totally love! But there is a lot of language in it that many would not understand. Does anyone have any advice or ideas on how to discuss these complex issues using simpler language?
Even if you're not using it to run, empowering, upbeat music could help get you through something like a breakup (or a job rejection, or almost any disappointment) and remember how awesome you are. These tracks are more about loving yourself, surviving, not needing anyone else, or feeling powerful, and less about hating an ex. I'm going to share some up-tempo, self-empowering songs, then I'll open it up to the Homies and see what they suggest.
Infertility sucks, no two ways about it. Some parts of this have made me angry and bitter, but the hilarity that has ensued during the surreal conversations I've had about it has at least given me some uncomfortable stories to tell my future progeny and their prom dates. I plan to use them as part of the explanation I give for why they don't have a college fund and why we live in a van down by the river.