My husband and I were a month into trying to conceive when we I peed on that stick and got the great news that I was pregnant. As we sat looking at the third positive pregnancy test, I excitedly and nervously thought about who we would tell first: parents, siblings, in-laws, and that fantastic man that I started dating… I debated and decided that being pregnant would not be a barrier to pursuing him as a lover, my husband concurred — but I wasn’t sure if he would feel the same.
I’m in my late 20s and I’ve never really done the whole “meet the parents” thing before. Most of the advice I can find online is pretty sexist (dress conservatively, offer to help in the kitchen to show that you can run a house!). Is there anything I should know that isn’t super gender stereotyped?
It’s 2015, so a liberal Filipino woman dating a white conservative man isn’t so unusual. And our relationship is amazing. Except… while my family has welcomed the man I love with open arms, his family keeps their arms shut. Normally I wouldn’t be too concerned with whether or not people like me. But it’s different when you’re talking about the parents of the man you’re dating.
Here’s what I wish a loving older brother or sister figure would have told us (and what I’m passing on to you young Offbeat Homies out there): there is nothing wrong with wanting a casual relationship. Not in your late teens and early twenties, and not even in your late twenties, thirties, forties… you get the idea.
Asexual or demisexual is as close to “accurate” as I’m going to get for a label, I think. I have a sex drive, I have sexual fantasies, I masturbate, I can imagine being sexually attracted to someone I knew and trusted, but if my future self figures out time-travel and drops me a note to inform me that I’m never going to get laid, I would be a lot more interested in the implications for free will than I would be distressed at the thought of never having sex again.
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.