Ladies, play nice

For as long as I remember, I have been called a ‘feminist’. This is usually accompanied with a sneer of derision, a mildly ridiculing smile, a roll of the eye saying ‘here she goes again’ or even a shake of the head to indicate my ‘lost-cause-ness’. To all those who choose to place this sobriquet so resolutely upon my head, I have only one response. I am a ‘humanist’ (or ‘people-ist’, if you will). Someone who believes that anyone, regardless of their genital apparatus, should be given the same rights, respect and choices.

Hence I have, on occasion, signed up people for a brain transplant or told them where to stick their suggestions. Like when someone questioned my parents’ wisdom in “spending so much money on my education”. Or when I, as a female, was expected to do the dishes because “it doesn’t look good for the man to do it”. Or when people look at athukar cooking a meal and go “Wow, you’re so lucky, he cooks for you” (I am, yes. But not just because I can get a warm, loving meal after a hard day at work. That’s love, friendship and basic human decency.)

As a ‘humanist’, I believe the concept of liberties works both ways. But increasingly, ironically and appallingly, we see a lot of women forgetting this. If a boyfriend or spouse was to tell us whom to talk to, what to do over the weekend or when to go out and have fun, he would have hell to pay for. Flip the coin and you have many girlfriends and wives being an inconsiderate nightmare. Some of the poor sods aren’t even aware, and others cannot do anything to extricate themselves out of this situation.

So here I am, championing the cause of you sweet men everywhere. Ladies, play nice. Don’t say/do anything you wouldn’t want yourself to be subjected to. You simply cannot make shopping plans  and expect them to play along. Gaming night is sacred and yes, you would do well to let them pick the movie once in a while. He is allowed to pick his family over you once in a blue moon. He can support his friends against you in an argument. He may not be Mr. Perfect, but sure as hell can be Mr. Sometimes-Right.

On that note, I leave you with this hugely popular (at least among the guys) movie clip that says it all. (As per our house rules, this has to be watched completely every damn time it comes on TV.  :D)

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