Desperate House Husbands.

Perhaps the problem with the modern woman is that, like the modern man, she's not so sure she wants to be modern. And when she does, she may not want to be fair about it. Perhaps the problem with relationship is that modern equality is a thoroughly defensive.

Take Karen Karbo's article in the NYT's "Modern Love" feature: the entire feature is about how she found herself an "accidental breadwinner"-- and ended up resenting it and her S.O's (tongue-in-cheek, she says she couldn't imagine being her mother, dusting on Tuesdays, etc, then goes on to say she wanted her "househusband" to dust on Tuesdays, etc.. and give the kids more than cereal for breakfast).

It's all standard-issue role reversal: as the "wife" now, he must take on the traditional gender roles women have been trying to free themselves from for years, follow a work-like schedule of the routine tasks June Clever would have done. Not to say he shouldn't be playing video games, but there's a reason that Soap Operas existed: you can't be cleaning all the time. And if you were expected to, you wouldn't be a house-wife, you'd be a slave.

But Karbo doesn't get juicy until she talks about her leaving a relationship and the financial troubles it represents...

It’s not just a problem from my mother’s era. Several years ago, a friend of mine decided she’d had enough of her arts administrator job. With the support of her husband, who worked somewhat unhappily as a doctor, she quit with the idea of taking a year off to decide what she wanted to do. The year slid into two, then three. She walked her dogs, attended yoga classes. Then her life became a third-rate show on basic cable: she discovered her husband was having an affair with a nurse, and worse, when she confronted him, he said he wasn’t going to stop.

My friend was devastated. She knew she had to get out but couldn’t bring herself to file for divorce. I imagined that she was afraid to be alone, that she would miss her husband’s companionship. “There’s always Match.com,” I said, trying to console her.
She snorted. “It’s not that. I don’t have a job, and I don’t think I could get a job that would pay enough.”

Enough to live in the way she had become accustomed, she meant.

They are still married.

Poor thing. Cheated on by some rotten shlub, having laid around, done yoga and ate bon-bons all day. She couldn't leave the bastard, though-- she's too accustomed to that good living.

Of course, when the tables are turned, after her own house-husband played too much Halo....

When we divorced, he wanted alimony, child support and the house — the house that was purchased with my money, in my name. During one of our last conversations, I wept with incomprehension. He wanted my house? Whatever happened to the way people divorce in the movies, where the husband packs a bag and moves into a sad hotel, leaving his wife (whom he supported) in the house?

The Cuddle Bum said that if I insisted on leaving him, he had no choice but to play hardball. (In response, I stepped up my freelancing work and got a better lawyer, who spun things into my favor quite nicely. Don’t talk to me about hardball.)

So the heroine wins again-- she gets herself the freedom from a relationship, "wins" the divorce by keeping the house (again, Karbo is very knowingly tongue-in-cheek, here).

What's depressing is where Karbo ends up: in a thoroughly litigated relationship, with seperate budgets and an almost renterly attitude. Her current beau pays his share of the bills on the 15th, while Karbo pays for herself and her daughter.

Is this the direction of the modern relationship? separate beds, separate budgets, separate lives?

In moving towards a state of equality, it seems that relationships of equals mean equally on-guard. A shame, but it's meant to be.

I've waited a long time to even consider the possibility of marriage, for this very reason: while I have, in the past, thought a relationship might be "forever" I couldn't get over the fact that marriage is a litigative trap-- a legal concept, masquerading as a rite of love. My partner (read: girlfriend) at the time wanted marriage and specifically for the security it provided.

For her: security.

For me: utter dependence and debt.

Is the only way to have a long-lasting relationship the clearly delineated Karbo way?

The day Jim and I moved in together, I gave him a formal accounting of how much our monthly nut would be; he would pay for himself, and I would pay for my daughter and me. Since then, he has written me a check for his portion on the 15th of every month. Sometimes he buys the groceries, and sometimes I do. But he always pays for both of us when we go to the movies, and spends lavishly on buttered popcorn and Milk Duds. I am always touched by this.

I couldn't imagine "togetherness" more romantic.

But, I suppose, what other choice do we have? It's slavery, independence or nothing, it seems.

Makes me wonder how the communist's fucked.