Every year for the last ten years my husband has gone on a motorcycle rally trip, a boys only trip. He looks forward to it, he plans, and has a great time. We check in daily, say hello, and then he’s off to do his motorcycle thing, a thing that is his thing, and his thing alone. Why am I not interested in motorcycles? I don’t know…For the same reason some people don’t like Limburger cheese I suppose, it’s just not MY thing. I am pretty sure he likes it that way, he has something he doesn’t have to share.
This brings me to the fact that for ten years he has never been questioned about his trip, he’s never had to explain his motivation, he’s never had to defend his decision to go to anyone. He just goes.
My experience in planning my own trip has had it’s share of questions from others. “Why are you going alone?”. “He’s letting you go alone?”. “Are you coming back?”. ” What if he finds someone else while you’re gone?”, And my personal favorite is a simple statement ” you’re going alone so you can f**k someone else”.
I’m saddened. I thought for some crazy reason the world had moved on from such a misogynistic mindset. I am going alone because I want to. Neither my husband or I have to get permission from each other to do anything. Yes, I’m coming back, my dogs are here, he won’t find anyone else, we’re 35 years in and that has yet to happen, and as far as sleeping with someone else…What kind of moron invites a potential axe murderer into her room when she’s alone? Give me some goddamn credit. That’s it, that’s the last time I explain myself in this lifetime. I know I sound angry, I’m not, I’m irritated.