I woke up with a really bad headache this morning. I’ve been getting headaches on a regular basis these days. I’m not talking about headaches that respond to a fistful of Advil but ones that last almost a whole day and leave me sprawled out in bed, head buried under the covers.
I need to get back to acupuncture. And eat better.
W texted me from work today and asked if she could pick up dinner.
I appreciated the offer. I’m the head cook, and the responsibility of catching and cooking dinner falls on these broad shoulders.
But here’s the catch. I’m always reluctant to accept offers of kindness. I have a hard time allowing other people to do nice things for me. Even W. Even though I do nice things for people all the time.
I think it comes from a couple of things. When I was a child, favors and gifts came wrapped in pretty paper but laden with strings like a box of tampons.
When I got older, I went through some tough times, and there was no one there to help me through. I only had myself to rely on. So, there’s that built-in fear of being alone and on my own again. Why get used to kindness and help when it just might disappear?
I also think that toughness, that every woman is an island conceit, that no-thanks-I’m-good attitude is all part of being a butch. We can do it all ourselves. Take out the trash, fold the laundry, grill the burgers, fend for ourselves, with the sleeves of our flannel shirts rolled up and a smile on our handsome faces.
I had the hot and sour soup, and it was delicious.
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What about you? Are you a self-reliant butch? How about your partner?