-LIL DICKY

You wanna know why I really started this blog?

When I recognized that you could be one of the best doctors in the United States and the uneducated, selfish opinion of a spray-tanned narcissist would render all of that education, power, and years of cultivated intellect useless. 

So what are we talking about today?

Professionalism in the workforce.

Or, how I like to call it, the differences in societal expectations for a female’s private life compared to that of her male coworkers.

Fuck it, let’s jump in.

Please don’t start talking about the patriarchy…

Oh, but guess what… I am. 

Acknowledging the undertones of our own patriarchal society means acknowledging the traditional gender roles that are almost universally similar all over the world at varying stages throughout history: from hunter-gatherer societies to modern day civilization, men worked the manual labor, having stronger physical builds, more calloused hands, and really embracing that burly warrior “save me kind stranger” mentality that I am still (annoyingly) attracted to (& why one of my recent Bumble matches extended that to my being attracted to army / marine branches, but not navy or airforce...woops...guilty as charged), whereas women were the child care providers, the “gatherers”, more passive, and ultimately, weak. 

As an aside, we all KNOW men were the little bitch babies who rebranded women as “weak” even though a significantly high proportion of women wake up in a pool of their own blood several days of the month, are capable of growing an entire human being inside of them, and then EITHER PUSH SAID BABY OUT THROUGH A HOLE IN BETWEEN THEIR LEGS OR GET IT SAWED OUT OF THEM, MOVING SKIN, INTESTINES, MUSCLES TO THE SIDE, AND THEN REPOSITIONING IT ALL BACK INTO PLACE AND STITCHING THEM BACK UP LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED.

Anyways, with the industrial revolution and moving away from agricultural roles, more and more men entered the workforce in factories or office jobs and women still stayed at home with the kids. Coupled with years of war after war (because a bunch of men across a variety of countries, who had thousands of acres yet demanded more power and sailed across oceans because men are ultimately selfish fucks and think they MUST “know all” and enact a “best” way of life over people instead of just minding their own fucking business) and Rosie the Riveter propaganda, women diverged from their traditional gender roles, traded their corsets and hoop skirts for pants, and realized they did not in fact need to solely rely on someone else for their health and livelihood.

Now, I will acknowledge, that there is some comfort in the fact that I could probably exist solely on my looks, willingly permitting myself to be a baby machine and collecting enough child support to fund my preferred lifestyle for at least 18 years. My dream, however, is for someone to just pay me to exist with no sexual or birth obligations, ya know, like the lifestyle of a wealthy heiress. Unfortunately, I was born a peasant (read: civilian army brat). But, who knows...maybe, when I’m inevitably still single several years from now, working on yet another degree or creative venture, I’ll back track on that and be begging one of the guys I’ve ignored for years to go back to his simp lifestyle and wife me up. However, that’s unlikely, because if there’s one thing I am above all, it’s stubborn.

I’d rather die of loneliness than admit my need for a man.

Do you know how infuriating it is to enjoy and crave the security walking in a male’s presence offers me as a fiercely independent woman? Ugh. gross. 

Yet, as more and more women entered the workforce, diver