Gender roles didn’t make us partners—they made us dependent

We talk a lot about gender roles as though they’re about tradition or preference, but at their core they’re about dependency—about making sure none of us ever feels quite capable enough on our own.

I’ve come to believe that women and men are both infantilized in different ways so that we remain dependent on one another. Women are told they’re bad with money, tools, cars, and anything remotely technical. Men are told they’re helpless in the kitchen, emotionally illiterate, and incapable of managing a household or nurturing relationships. The end result isn’t balance—it’s a system that quietly ensures everyone needs someone else to function.

When we let go of rigid gender norms around everyday life skills, we give our kids something far more valuable than tradition: the chance to choose partners out of desire rather than necessity. A future where they’re not rushing to find someone—anyone—just to fill in the gaps they were never taught how to handle themselves.

My father accidentally raised a couple of feminists this way. He believed that his daughters were just as capable of learning to do “men’s work” as our brother was. We learned how to fix things, problem-solve, and take responsibility for ourselves. (Unfortunately, I don’t think my brother was ever expected to learn quite as much “women’s work” as we did, but that’s a separate conversation.)

What stuck with me wasn’t that I had to do everything—it was that I could. I learned early on that I’m capable of handling most things life throws at me. Over time, I also learned that there are plenty of things I’d rather pay someone else to do, but that choice comes from preference, not fear or dependence. The important part is knowing I can take care of myself in all the ways that actually count.

That knowledge has profoundly shaped how I think about relationships, especially after marriage. I’m in no hurry to find a replacement for my ex. If anything, having been married has made me far more selective than I was as a young adult constantly warned, “You need to lower your standards or you’re going to end up alone.”

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Here’s the uncomfortable truth: I lowered my standards, and then I ended up alone anyway.

And you know what? Alone isn’t nearly as terrible as it was always made out to be. It’s peaceful. It’s stable. It’s honest. If I’d been raised to believe that I needed a man around to handle all the “men’s work” in my life, I might have rushed right back into marriage—likely with someone I didn’t actually like all that much, just as I did the first time.

I’m not opposed to finding a partner again someday. But that’s the key word: partner. If I’m going to give up the calm, self-sufficient life I’ve built as a single person, it will only be for someone who adds genuine value to it. Someone who can take care of themselves. Someone who isn’t in a rush to be with me because they believe they need a woman to manage their life or do all the “women’s work” for them.

If I someday meet a man who enriches my life in ways that go far beyond dividing chores by gender, I might be interested. Until then, I’m content taking care of myself.

Because I am an adult in possession of many important life skills—skills that may traditionally be assigned to one gender or the other, but which are, in reality, just life skills. And everyone deserves to grow up knowing how to use them.

If this resonates with you—or challenges you—I’d love to hear your thoughts. How did gender roles shape what you were taught to do for yourself, and how has that affected your relationships? Share in the comments, or pass this along to someone who might need the reminder that being capable is not a flaw.

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Now that Jack has been forced to reflect on everything he has to lose, he resolves to do better. He’s determined to spend more time at home with his family and repair the relationships that have suffered over the years while he’s been so focused on work. But as Callie’s behavior becomes increasingly bizarre, Jack realizes he has a lot more room to improve than he realized – and it might be too late to save his daughter after all.

For fans of We Need to Talk About Kevin, The Push, and Baby Teeth.