Do you have a job yet?
When I see my mom’s telephone number pop-up on my cellphone caller ID, I do the usual three-ring deliberation. Should I or shouldn’t I answer this call? The good angel tells me to pick it up because she is concerned for me. The bad angel tells me it might be the paramedic clicking on the speed dials on her home phone to notify me that she is on a stretcher in de-fib.
Today it was her calling with the usual question, “so, do you have a job yet?”
“No mom, not yet. I’m still networking and calling folks and making great contacts,” I replied.
“Well, it has been two months. I don’t understand how you can go this long. I think some man is keeping you,” she retorted.
Me, a kept woman? I wonder who this imaginary man with cash flow could be. (CircusBoy doesn’t send me a stipend from his circus check.) Why am I being penalized because I’m an independent woman who saves for the next lay-off? She doesn’t get it because SHE is the kept woman.
I’ve already out-worked my mother. She had a brief career until her early 30’s when she hatched me. Then she was a stay-at-homer. Now she’s sitting fat in happy in a paid off house and gets to live off social security (she didn’t even pay into the ‘system’) and my dad’s retirement.
Now, that’s a pretty sweet return on investment. And I’m not going to argue. I hear that raising kids is hard work. But that IS a SWEET ROI. I’d love to only work 15 years of my life and have a house and provisions for life. That sounds like ‘kept’ to me.
The trade-off is dependency and that’s not my style. Yeah, I’m a “kept” woman.
I’ve kept my independence.