When I was a teenager my mother asked me to go and change my brother’s bed sheets. At sixteen I could barely contain my upset, blurting out “He is twelve years old. He can do that himself!” Her response was “He is a boy. He doesn’t need to learn how to do that.”
When I was seventeen, my boyfriend was very attentive. We were engaged but mom and dad would not give consent for us to get married. So, we were “waiting for the second” that I turned eighteen to take the plunge. He was and wasn’t a lot of things but I believe he truly did love me. However, when he bought us matching faux leather jackets in dark mustard baby diaper yellow he had to go. My love could not survive dressing alike in rude clothing.
