A few thoughts on women's lib

I was helping some friends move this summer. A couple of guy friends were helping as well. One of the boys was pulling some items out of the truck and handed me a couple small things. I acted very offended, and he then moved out of my way and let me pick out something heavier.
Later in the move, I was carrying a large piece of furniture alone. When I got to the door of the house, he said out loud that he didn't know if he should offer help. I told him that I wanted him to treat me like a capable, independent woman, but I didn't want him to refrain from being a gentleman. He admitted that was a very fine, very difficult line to work with.
Fast forward a couple months. I was at lunch with him today. This very same topic came up, and I reminded him of our previous experience.
When we got to the car, he made it very obvious and very clear that he was getting the car door for me. He offered his hand and insisted I take it to ensure my safety. He was being very silly about it.
When he got in the other car door, he expressed that he would not like to be treated like a fragile object. I pointed out to him that there was a difference between being treated like I couldn't do it and being shown that I deserved more respectful and delicate treatment. That made sense to him.

I went on an overnight canoe trip last week with my friend, Holly. We had car trouble, so her father and brother picked us up at the end of the trip. I loved watching the way that Holly's father and brother treated her and interacted with her. They insisted she help load the canoes and tie them down. It wasn't because they thought she deserved part of the workload. It was because they trusted her ability and knew they could accomplish the task easier with her help.

One of my most treasured work-related memories had to do with my supervisor, Andy. Andy and I worked together in the automotive department at Wal-Mart. There were many a time that men would come in wanting to purchase goods or services from our department. I would offer to help them and they would walk past me and often times not even acknowledge me.
On one particular instance, a gentleman (can I even call him that?) walked right past me and my offer to help because Andy was in sight. This customer asked Andy about one of our tires. Andy knew the answer, but he used this opportunity to demonstrate his confidence in me and attempt to instill this in our customer base. He said to that particular customer that I would know better than he and walked him over to me. I more than adequately answered all this customer's questions.
It wasn't that Andy was too busy to answer the question or that he didn't want to help this customer. Like me, he was tired of the assumptions. He knew my ability.
It was one of the most empowering moments of my life. Andy taught me so much in that small gesture that day.

An idea of romance

I'll admit it. I signed up with an online dating website.

Wow. That was hard to admit. It shouldn't be. It's typical for our technology-driven society. Alas, it is strange with how social I am and how many people I know that I'm not having the dating life I desire. It is as though dating has been replaced with meaningless social events that lead to little (but physical relationships, it seems).

But the above is not the purpose of this post.

As part of the service, I am able send site generated messages back and forth with my matches to help us get to know one another. One of the boys I'm communicating with recently responded to the questions I sent him. One of my questions was "How would you spend a romantic evening with someone you've been dating for more than a year?"
His response: "Having a picnic and watching the sunset together. Maybe I will even muster up the little skill I have and make the picnic myself."

I watch the sunset a few times a week. In fact, I stopped by a friend's house tonight, and he suggested we move the conversation outside so that we could watch the sunset. This is the same friend who cooked a wonderfully delicious dinner for me and my sister while we watched the sunset, just before watching the fireworks from the accessible rooftop.

A friend. I watched the sunset with a friend.

Maybe this just means I live a very romantic life already.

Or maybe this boy lives in a part of the city where the sunset isn't easily seen, so watching the sunset is a rare occasion for him. In that case, working to enjoy that simple part of life is romantic.

Maybe this sunset viewing would involve a beautiful hike to get to the location and a hidden guitar that he "finds" and uses to play a little song for me.

Or maybe the simplicity of it all would make it so romantic.

I mean the sunset is a glorious thing every time I watch it. For example, I love catching the sunset over the Great Salt Lake on my way home from the Salt Lake Temple. On the nights when there are clouds, I like to stick around until after the sun has set. The way the dusk light reflects off the varying depths of the water make it appear almost as though there are white caps of cresting waves. It makes me feel like I'm back in Florida. I can even sometimes hear the waves crashing onto the shore.

His idea, although very simple, is romantic. But is it the kind of romance I'm looking for? Why am I left wanting for more?

Maybe I'm too consumed with looking for more than I already have. Maybe the best kind of relationship would involve spending time with someone doing the things I already do, the things I already love. I shouldn't be put off by his response. I should appreciate that we share that enjoyment of the simple things in life. Maybe I should make the search for love a little less complicated.