Independent Women: Is it an over-rated title?

"Oooh there's something about the kind of woman that can do for herself...something oh so sexy about the kind of woman that don't even need my help...she work like a boss, play like a boss, car and her crib she's 'bout to pay em both off and her bills are paid on time." - Ne-Yo

Ne-Yo's song, "Miss Independent," sends a message that not only is an independent woman respected by her male counterparts, but also sexy and desirable.  While this may be true for some men, women have also had to battle with the opposite message that men are intimidated by smart, successful women.

Regardless of the mixed messages we receive, what does it mean to be an independent woman from the woman's vantage point? 

There's definitely a sense of pride when you know you don't have to depend on someone else financially.  It's a freedom that enables you to really enjoy what you've earned.  When I bought my house I knew it was my hard work that that landed me there - not someone else's.  When my car is paid off in the near future, it will be an accomplishment I've worked hard toward and have made sacrifices for. 

But on the flip side of this coin is the fact that I only have my income to rely on.  That usually means having to sacrifice the makeup I want (but don't actually need) so I can make sure there's enough $ to cover the electric or water bill.  It means I have to really prioritize and plan for the things I want.  For example, I'm planning on getting Lasik this Spring.  It's not cheap and my goal is to finance as little as possible.  So until then, I'm saving for my "down payment."  I can't tell you how many adorable cardigans or handbags I've had to rip myself away from in order to stick to my goals.  And discretionary funds for entertainment and fun or for trips to the salon?  Pretty hard to come by. I've had to become a master DIY beautician (see my healthy shiny hair blog!). 

Another issue I've run into is home renovation.  When I first moved in, I had the most disgusting carpet in the KITCHEN.  Who the hell is the genius that decided carpet in a kitchen was even remotely sane?  I'd like to throw dead bunnies at him/her.  I hated that baby blue, stained-with-chocolate-pudding carpet with a passion and knew it had to go.  But who's going to help me get rid of it and replace it with something else?  I certainly don't have the skills or attention span required to lay down new flooring.  Insert my dad.  I thank God he's always been willing (and able) to help me with my home projects because if it weren't for him, I'd still be vacuuming in my kitchen!  Not only did he help with the big projects like kitchen flooring, counter top shopping and bathroom remodeling, he also comes over when I'm crying because I broke the window tract when I was trying to clean it and it's 30 degrees and I'm freezing and I don't know how the hell to fix it!  He comes over when my bathroom sink is clogged, only to ask me if it had crossed my mind to use a plunger.  Which of course, it hadn't.  He comes over when my laundry room wash bins are clogged because I had forgotten my Shop Vac had dust, dirt and other large particles in it when I vacuumed the water spill caused by my faulty washer set up.  When I dumped the water into the wash bin, I realized all the other junk was now lodged in the drain.  This is a typical scene where tears are shed. 

Sometimes, I get sick of my own company and would like someone else around to entertain me.  I'm amused easily so this isn't too hard to do.  I'm taking applications. 

I'd also like help bringing in groceries - especially when it's freezing outside.  Since I'm left on my own to do this, I've gotten pretty good at piling bag after bag on each of my arms while balancing myself in heels on the small journey to the front door.  I usually only need 2 or 3 trips now since I'm usually up to my neck (literally) in grocery bags.

Lastly, I never realized that the term "work" in yard work actually meant physical work.  Me and the outdoors have never really been friends.  I enjoy it when mother nature is not on her period and provides me with sunshine and warmth, but it's usually one sided relationship.  I generally don't like having to give back by watering her plants and flowers or mowing her grass.  I guess this is why she's a bitch to me in the winter, blasting my face with painful wind and exhausting me with large stretches of sidewalk shoveling whenever the snow falls.  I would much rather be mowing the grass in 90 degree weather than shoveling in -24, but either way it's a lot of work and I've run into almost as many mishaps outside the house as inside. 

So, I guess being independent can be over rated when you look at all you have to learn to do on your own.  All the hard work it requires sometimes makes gold-digging look like a reasonable alternative profession.  But then again, who would I be if I wasn't satisfied with learning how to fix the things I break?  Who would I be if I didn't have my attitude of defiance toward total dependence on another for my basic needs?  Who would I be if I couldn't be a resource to other women in my life about how to get shiny hair or create at-home facial masks?  What parts of my personality would I miss if this hadn't been my life?  I'm not willing to find out.