As women advance academically, intellectually, and economically, have we lowered our standards romantically?

Ladies: I have a question for you. When did we lower our standards for men? Seriously—I need to know. As I watch more modern women advance academically, intellectually, and economically, it seems that romantically, we’ve taken at least three steps backwards.

Thirty, even twenty years ago, men still courted women; they held doors and offered to pay for dinner. I’ve seen it in the movies. Men were chivalrous: they’d ask parents respectfully for their daughter’s company, then they’d pick her up in a clean car, ring her doorbell, meet her parents, and promise to return her home safely before midnight. These men wore real pants, not jogging pants or ripped jeans, and they wore them around their waist.

Gender roles have never been more fuzzy: as more women enter the workforce and occupy more political, social, and cultural space, the breadwinner model of masculinity is phasing out, leaving nothing but an amorphous question mark in its place. What it  means to be “male” in this world is changing just as rapidly as what it means to be “female,” and I can’t help but wonder, are men getting away with too much? With more women asking for recognition in the public sphere, do we feel guilty asking for too much in our personal lives, too?

The question emerged out of one of those long conversations with my best friend. We like to hatch things open, to delve into political and social conversations that range topically from Taylor Momsen, to romance, to American politics, to Lady Gaga’s new music video, to the Toronto Transit Commission.

On this particular occasion, we were discussing men. (Well, boys, actually, as we reserve the word “men” for those gentlefolk of a certain stature and aptitude). She was stressing over a boy who hadn’t called her back. I’d witness the whole romance unfold, and while I told her she was worrying needlessly, she replied with a line that struck me like a thunderbolt: “I wasn’t even looking for a relationship or anything ...”

Then and there it hit me—when did our standards get so dammed low?  Here we were, two educated, attractive, and competent young women, who are struggling to find male companions of our caliber.

I wouldn’t consider myself or my friend high maintenance when it comes to men: we don’t expect flowers or presents, but we do expect respect, manners, and the occasional door held open (guys, it’s called gentility, and it goes a long way).

While neither of us are seeking “love” per-say, I’d be lying to say we’re not aiming to foster real and meaningful relationships with men. But it seems the more we search, the more we’re disappointed. At some point in our quest for real men, we’ve lowered our standards, and we’re guilty of accepting less than quality people into our lives.

Somewhere along the way in the history of women’s liberation, we made a huge mistake: we raised our expectations of ourselves but we never asked anything of men except for their tolerance; Tolerate us in law school, we said, tolerate our voices in the media, and tolerate our vote. Feminism fostered an ethos of tolerance towards women, but did it ever establish a tone of acceptance—or better yet, camaraderie?

Ladies—it’s time to raise the bar: I truly believe that you teach people how to treat you, and we need to teach men that’s it’s high time to man up.

Amanda Cosco
		About the author:
		Amanda Cosco is a freelance writer. The city is her muse.  After completing a master’s degree in English Literature at Ryerson University in Toronto, Amanda packed up her life and moved to the city in pursuit of jazz, sex, and soup. Amanda completed her bachelor of arts at York University, where she had one foot in literary studies and one foot in journalism, earning her a double-major in English and professional writing. Amanda has presented her scholarly work at academic at conferences across Toronto, and her research on the metaphor of hunger in women’s fiction has received over $30,000 in grants and prizes. With her pen name, Lady Medusa, Amanda has left her digital footprints all over the internet. Currently, she’s blogging for several social media websites, and composing her first book of poetry, entitled "Autobiography of Skin. Follow her on Twitter @ladymspeaks
	Read More >>