Friends

Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't.

Dear Ms. Opinionated,

I am an outspoken feminist, my best friend from high school is decidedly not. Like, as in "living with her ultra-conservative, religious family until she marries because a young woman shouldn't be on her own not a feminist." 

Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't.

 

Dear Ms. Opinionated,

The kind of break-up described in your last column is thankfully in my rearview mirror, but now I face a whole other problem: everyone keeps telling me to "get back out there" but I'm not sure I even remember, let alone ever knew, how! My ex and I were together practically since college, he asked me out and things just went from there. But now it's like... I'm not 22 anymore, I'm almost 30, I'm not as cute as I used to be and I feel like any guy I would want to go out with could totally do better. 

 

Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't.

Dear Ms. Opinionated:

I think I'm about to lose all my friends, and I don't know what to do!

Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't.

Dear Ms. Opinionated: My best friend just broke up with me. She has been with a guy for 8 months now, but after their first date, I expressed concern that he was still married and had an toddler. I was clear that he may be a great guy but he was still married. Our friendship fell apart after that: she disappeared, and then reappeared in my life months later still upset because she said I didn't know him. She is acting like his child's mother but has yet to talk to him about marriage, finances, kids, etc. They are moving in together at the end of the month. Yesterday she broke up with me. I'm kind of devastated but I knew it was coming.

Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't.

Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't. This time, what to do when a friend asks you to look into her boyfriend's past and then won't listen to what you find.

In fictional TV narratives, job interviews and negotiations are opportunities for farce. Especially when the manager is male and his subordinate is female, TV writers grab the opportunity to intersect career milestones with heterosexual complications. But when labor economics converge with gender in the real world, the result is far from uproarious.

Offscreen, service jobs are not just a trope. They are a fraught solution to economic problems that heavily impact young, college-educated, indebted women.

Men who care for children are afforded high status in pop culture if their role is part of some macho, justice-seeking mission (The Pacifier, Kindergarten Cop) or incidental to their real life, allowing them to maintain a cool image (About A Boy, Role Models). When he takes on a childcare role for no other reason than to get paid, however, a man should be prepared to sacrifice his self-respect.

In Melissa & Joey, Joey Lawrence plays an Ivy League-educated former commodities trader (yup) who went broke thanks to a Ponzi scheme. When local politician Mel takes in her sister’s kids, Joe becomes their housekeeper and nanny as a last resort, having previously been living in his car. In one episode, Mel finds out that Joe has donated to a sperm bank, and asks him what the most degrading thing he’s ever done for money is, hoping he'll admit to selling some of his swimmers. Instead, he gestures around the kitchen and replies, “By far, this.” He’s not entirely sincere, but the joke (such as it is) is predicated upon the audience acknowledging that this isn’t a suitable job for a man who values himself.

Welcome to the latest installment of Ms. Opinionated, in which readers have questions about the pesky day-to-day choices we all face, and I give advice about how to make ones that (hopefully) best reflect our shared commitment to feminist values—as well as advice on what to do when they don't. This week: how to tell the friend you have feelings for that you'd like to go out with her, and that your partner doesn't mind.