Chivalry. I've never been too sure how I feel about it. Whilst I am from a background where having a man open a door for me or offer to carry my bags is appreciated (although no longer expected), I have always felt a little bit... patronised? I'm never sure if the implication is "well, I'm a nice, old-fashioned kinda guy, so I'll take care of it," or if it's more "having ovaries must be exhausting for you, poor thing. Don't worry your little head about it."
I don't like men standing for me (I find it awkward). Paying for things? Don't even go there. Does that then mean that I owe them something? I just don't know. And I've always found that guys' seeming compulsion to "rescue" me really over the top and quite irritating. I may give off vibes of being a bit clumsy and awkward, which, when combined with the fact that I have large eyes and my hair smells like shampoo, seems to make boys go into overdrive "I WANT TO PROTECT YOU" mode, but, actually, I'm not totally inept. I'm perfectly capable of telling the creepy man at the bus stop to bugger off for myself, thanks.
Basically, I've never been Emma Stone in Easy A (although golly, do I love that film).
That is, until I got the flu.
This is quite embarrassing to admit, but being ill makes me insanely needy. I want to weep. I want to be looked after. I want hugs from a big person (they have to be big so that they make me feel tiny). I know, I'm pathetic.
You may recall that back in December I was ill, and a lovely boy came round to look after me, and ended up burying a dead rabbit for me, instead of taking me on what was supposed to be our first date. Things never did work out romantically with him (they rarely do, when dead rabbits are involved). However, he has been round several times a day (he's a neighbour - in fact, let's call him N, for Neighbour) since I've been ill. He has brought me cupcakes, and muffins, and other things to tempt me to eat. He has introduced me to Studio Ghibli movies, and hung around to watch a few with me. He has made endless cups of tea, cracked jokes to cheer me up, and provided hugs. And at six foot two, he counts as a big person.
I always knew that he was an old-fashioned boy who likes to look after girls. The problem was, I'm not an old fashioned girl who wants to be rescued. But he is very good at it, and it has been lovely while I've been ill.
Sadly, when I'm not totally useless and weak as a kitten, I'm just not that kind of girl. However, if you are the type who likes being looked after, and "protected", then I think your perfect man may be living upstairs from me. If you'd like an introduction, then leave a message in the comments box.
Where do you stand on chivalry? Dashing and romantic? Patronising? Or, like me, are you an "only when I'm sick" kind of girl?