"They Don't Date Fat Women, Do They?"

Being the "benefit of the doubt" kind of girl that I am, I made the repeated mistake (you'd think I'd learn) of responding to Mr. Forward's email.  I think I go through these speed bumps of unintelligent thoughts where I figure I have nothing to lose and, in want of male attention, throw my morals to the wind and overlook blatant red flags.  Although I continued to give him the time of day, I did not answer his inappropriate question regarding a rock in a stream and my potential activity on said rock.  (Confused? Click here.)  Glossing over the top and answering all the rest of his G-rated questions, I stupidly responded in hopes that maybe my attempts to steer things back in the direction of a conversation less likely to come out of the mouth of a fifteen year old boy would prompt him to do the same.  Sweet, Melanie.  Simple, sweet, hopeful Melanie.

Mr. Forward wrote me back and answered my question regarding why he tended to date outside of his own race by making very generalized statements regarding particular ethnicities of women.  Most white women, he told me, are just after the dream of the big house, the fancy car, the husband who pays all the bills and the over-the-top Christmas parties.  Nice.  Asian women take good care of their men.  Black women are strong and independent.  Indian women are "well kept" and fun loving.  Latinas are hardworking and enjoy "pumping out babies."  Oh, I found a winner here, Singletons...a real Grade A racist.  I'm not impressed.  Nor am I stupid enough to write him back.

Although he completely overlooked the question I had regarding his religion or the lack thereof on his profile, he did take delight in telling me that he's not a virgin and has a pretty scandalous sexual history with his ex.  As in currently.  As in, he didn't imply that the history had come to a close.  He told me to feel free to ask him about it and his divorce, he was happy to share.  Ha.  I am not happy to share, with anyone let alone an ex.

You'd think that after all this I would have read enough to know that this guy wasn't going to make it into any chapters of my autobiography.  At first glance, I was actually considering writing him back (I obviously needed a healthy shot of self-esteem at that point) until I got to the last paragraph of his email.  Remember that my photos hadn't posted to eVow.com when I first heard from Mr. Forward?  I was impressed that he had given me the benefit of the doubt considering my usual lack of response to "Ask me for a Photo" profiles.  The benefit is dead.  Mr. Forward asked me if I could share my Facebook page with him (uh...no) because he wanted to see more pictures of me.  He said that since I listed that I was "Full figured" on my eVow.com profile (don't lie about body type, people, it will always come back to haunt you), he wanted to get an assessment of "just how Full we're talking."

Now, I'd usually have a full-fledged, major problem with this anyway, but throw in the fact that Mr. Forward is no bodybuilder himself and seems rather stout (to put it kindly...why am I being kind?  He's big.) in his own photos is even more of an insult.  Why does this double standard exist in dating?  I was willing to see past the size of his body and consider him for his personality and traits that he may have that would compliment mine, so why does my body size play a determining factor?  If you can't love me whether I'm 100 pounds or 500 pounds, then that's a character flaw in you.  Mr. Forward is so against "white women who only want 'The Dream'," but seems perfectly fine with his pursuit of "The Dream" woman?  Why are men so willing to date a woman who has countless other flaws, but a couple of pounds extra and I'm automatically scratched from the list?

Granted, I don't think it's any real great loss not being included in Mr. Forward's list of dateable women, but I've run across this issue my entire adult life.  And the media only instigates this double standard. Watch television and tell me how many sitcoms or commercials have overweight, borderline unattractive male main characters married to thin, beautiful, younger female characters.  Then watch for the reverse.  You won't find it.  So, what that's telling us is that we, as women, have to accept our men regardless of their physical features, but the men don't necessarily have to do the same...?

Here's my thing.  I could stand to lose some of this plus-sexiness, I'm well aware of that, for my health and to feel more comfortable in my own body (and for the fashion options).  But, I will not do it to appease or attract a man.  I don't want to be one of those women who can't eat an M&M in front of her husband for fear of ridicule, insults or being left alone if I gain an ounce.  I will not be miserable just to have a guy stand next to me and claim he loves a pseudo version of myself who happens to be thinner.  Plus, I'm sure there are plenty of things about these prejudiced men's bodies that they wouldn't want to be judged and excluded for by women.  Just so happens that their pants do a good job of covering it up.


*Writer's Note:  The title of this post is in tribute to one of the greatest and most talked about episodes of television in history:  Designing Women, Episode #4.11:  "They Shoot Fat Women, Don't They?"

"I See Bad Online Daters..."

I'm losing steam, people.  I know what's going to happen.  One day, someone is going to find me rocking back and forth on the floor of my bedroom.  Clutching a laptop, I will be drooling and mumbling something like "eHarmony....Match.com....Plentyoffish.com...." under my breath.  My hair and clothing will most definitely be disheveled, closely resembling that of the girl from The Ring.  No one will be able to understand a word I say, but as the men in white coats glance back through my History on Internet Explorer, they'll be able to assuredly contribute my demise to online dating.  I'm pretty sure it will eventually be a checkable option printed on all in-take forms at most insane asylums.

A few weeks ago, I was strangely persuaded to make a go at eVow.com, Plentyoffish.com's newest online dating endeavor designed specifically for those people with long-term relationship and/or marriage intentions.  Sounds peachy!  After weeks of actively maintaining my presence on this new site, I've had contact with one man.  We'll call him Mr. Forward.  Mr. Forward is a recently divorced Atlantan who is moderately attractive (according to his pictures...remember Mr. Braves Fan? Yeah, taking it with a grain of salt.) and who actually gave me the benefit of the doubt, responding to an introduction email I sent him without having seen my pictures.  Had he not shared that my profile was lacking them, I probably wouldn't have known.  Apparently, you have to click another button to make your pictures public after you upload them (who posts private pictures?!).  I appreciated his open mindedness and responded with my usual initial conversation sprinkled with a light helping of getting-to-know-you questions.  He responded within a few hours.

In said response, he told me that he doesn't usually date women of his own race, but was willing to go out on a limb.  Thanks?  He also told me that he is very inquisitive and likes to ask women a lot of questions right off the bat.  Finally!  Exactly what I've been waiting for!  No more "How is your day?" or "What's for dinner?" boring emails/texts!  I read on.  He'd included a list of questions in bullet format and started with the basics:  "What's your favorite food?", "What kind of music do you listen to?," all building up to the heavy hitters.  He followed his general inquisition with a much more scandalous one:  "If we were in love, what would you do with me tonight?", "If you could choose between the following, what would it be:  cuddling on a couch, making out in a car or having sex on a rock in the middle of a stream?" and "Do you agree with traditional gender roles, such as the woman staying home and maintaining the household while the husband goes out and earns the bacon?"  Oh, Mr. Forward.  You've asked the wrong girl.

Completely overlooking the blatant overstepping of using the word "love" in the second email and even more so using the word "sex," the first thing that jumped to my attention was his last question.  Now, I will be honest and say that I did some assuming here based on how he worded the question.  Had he asked what I thought about traditional gender roles and not if I agreed with them, I would have been a bit less sharp-tongued. (Sidenote:  who enjoys sex on a rock in the middle of a stream?  Is that meant to be romantic?  Because personally, I'd imagine you'd end up with a lot of cuts, bruises, scrapes, and other physical maladies that would all trump whatever split-second romance was involved.  Plus, where is he going that there are human body sized rocks?!?).  I was happy to share my opinion on "traditional" gender roles.

As someone who watched my mother be a stay-at-home mom of her own choice for my entire life, I was well aware that it was not the life for me upon becoming conscious that there were other options for women.  I commend stay-at-home mothers and completely agree that they contribute just as much as any full-time employee at any industry in the country.  But, it is not my life's calling.  I would never let my family suffer because of a job, but I completely need to feel like I am a contributing part of society, that my brain is being used for something other than keeping track of soccer practices, school snacks and bath times.  I can't wait to do all of those things, but I need an outlet, an area in which I can feel as though I'm making a difference in the world, not just in my house with my kids and husband.  I would go stir crazy in a matter of weeks.  I'd need other adult-interactions so that my marriage didn't suffer, so that I had things to talk to my husband about other than what kind of trouble the kids got into at school that day.  I know that many times the responsibilities of the household fall upon the woman and that it happens sometimes without anyone realizing its happening.  But, I know I can handle them and a job.  And feel that I shouldn't have to be the one to compromise my life's goals and aspirations simply because I'm the one with the uterus.

Now, I wasn't as direct in my response to Mr. Forward and surely did not use any anatomically correct terms.  I probably should have since he felt that it was appropriate to use certain language he chose, but I resisted and took the high road.  I simply told him in no uncertain terms that I did not agree with the "barefoot and pregnant" philosophy.  It's been days.  I've gotten no response.  I'm thinking I've received Rejection By Silence. 

What do you think about "traditional" gender roles, Singletons?  Would you be willing to give up your career to maintain a household?  Would you sacrifice to that extent if your spouse wanted you to (male or female)?