Give Me My Space

So the women in our family (as well as the men) have been sharing stories lately....and have found some common ground.
"The women in this family are tough, Gerry!"
"I know it."
My poor son in laws got married and thought they would have, I don't know, a housewife, maybe? Little did they know, houses do not need wives. I remember cringing hearing the gospel reading preaching "Wives, obey your husbands." Are they serious?
I used to think my daughters were stubborn and difficult..now I understand where they get it from....and it does not stop with me, nor does it stop with my mom or my grandmother. It runs all the way to the Clark family that came off the Mayflower.
It does run in the family.
We need our space.
"What does that mean, exactly?" Any man that even needs to ask that question should be beaten. The fact that he even needs to ask that question requires some serious reflection.
I need my space means "I NEED MY SPACE."
Relax, it does not mean permanently, it just means right now, this instant..go away and do not make me have to look at you.
The men think we are mean, unaffectionate, and not very nice. What it really means is we are not needy-we do not need men hovering over us to make us feel important or special or smart. We do not need men to make us feel worthy of respect, of love, of admiration.
We are not mean or unaffectionate, we are independent. It started when we were 3 years old, I think. We were encouraged to play with the boys, keep up with the boys, be tough, and shake it off. There's no crying in baseball, remember?
My grandmother was extremely tough, and her mother before her. I never knew my great grandfather, but tough women usually marry great men. If they're not great, they leave because they whimp out. You know what they say, when the going gets tough the tough get going.
We teach men how to stand on their own two feet, in essence, we teach men how to be independent, too! Then everyone is happy. It is a long process, however, and one that does not yield overnight results. The boys are learning this the slow, painful way. But they are in luck. They are in good company. Now give me my space. Please.