“He’s conservative, but we have agreed not to discuss politics for the time being. Is this really an issue? Is it possible to have a relationship with someone who has the opposite political views?”
Dear Not Conservative,
I mean, anything is possible. Look at me, for example. I had relationships with complete morons, and I like to think I’m using my head for more than holding this gorgeous hair in place. I’ve dated more Fuckboys than you can shake a pair of J’s at, yet I have zero desire to drink all your babies juicy juice and put my feet all over the fucking sofa.
However, you have to consider the source of the issue. Politics are typically an extension of someone’s core belief system. What they genuinely feel is right for the world, that’s where they place their tick on the ballot.
Say, for example, I know someone is right leaning. Far right leaning. I know they don’t mind me bringing my pistol to the party, but I had better not bring my gay roommate. Probably cool to bring Puffin, but I’m liable to get my invitation rescinded if I start talking about the Tiny Village, because “why they don’t just pull themselves up by the bootstraps” is beyond the realm of rational thought with these people.
Is that really the fucking party you want to be at? You want to be standing around with Biff playing grab ass with Susan from the HOA because MTG is talking “national divorce”, and that’s Susans kink?
You can have that shit, sis. I’m grossed out right now just fucking thinking about it, really.
What you’re telling me when you say you’re dating a right winger is that you’re okay being with a guy who thinks, ultimately, you don’t belong to you. You belong to the men in your life. Your father, then your husband, but you certainly aren’t a whole being on your own. That’s why you need men to make decisions for you, that’s why you need them to tell you what to do with your body, what to do for a living, when to speak, how to dress, how much you should weigh, and when you’re allowed to work.
That all sounds okay with you?
I mean, if it does, that’s you, sis. Some folk are built that way. They have no problem with someone else making the major decisions for them, telling them when to come and go and bend and shake and whatever else they may want you to do.
In my house, we don’t operate that way. Listen, I try to tell Puffin what to do occasionally. It’s not something I want to talk about. She’s a real bitch, like, don’t ask her to do shit. It ain’t happening.
If I don’t expect my dog to obey my fucking orders, what would I look like thinking people should sit around waiting for my decisions to be the right ones for them? I can’t tell another woman what to fucking do with her career, her body, her life. Look at me, I’m wrestling with my own fucking disaster over here.
But, it’s mine to wrestle, to beat into submission. Mine. I’ll be calling these shots long after the bell rings, and I wish the same for all women, everywhere. At least the choice, you know. Even if you don’t fucking choose to be your own, or have your own, you should have that opportunity.
So, yeah, sis. It can work. If you want less autonomy than Puffin. If you want your guy to truly believe he has the right to tell you what to do with your body. Then sign right the fuck up. Send me a postcard, shit, I’ll hang it here in the house that Bitchface built, because that’s what the fuck I have going on over here.
But whatever works for you. Let me know. I’m emotionally invested now.
-Q
Just when I thought I was being too restrictive/picky, I'm so glad you said it. It's important and not something I considered much pre-Trump apolitical days. I get it now.
A couple who buries their heads in the sand together stays together?