the process of being decidedly undecided

As a woman, the opposite sex are not surprised when we change our minds. In fact, majority of them expect it. They may dislike that our minds our mercurial, but they accept it. And being a woman, we usually excuse our fickle-mindedness to being a woman.

One of my friends recently criticized me because I am not being a woman. I suppose she meant that I am not exercising my ability to change my mind out of whim given I eat the same kind of bagel everyday - blueberry double toasted with light butter. Most often my girlfriends frown on this trait. They ask if I suffer gender dysphoria, why I think like a guy, why I get irritated with them when plans we make don’t push through, why I raise my eyebrow when they share about a liking a new guy when a week ago it was someone else, why I even don’t change bags everyday even if I have plenty to choose from. 

Given she has every right to criticize, I was disconcerted. But the truth is, I didn’t know for what and why. I started thinking hard on this. Surely I am not a “lesser” woman just because my decisions are not temperamental? And even if I have so much shoes, bag, clothes, make up, toys, books, videos, music, food, perfumes just because I use the same ones over and over does not make me mentally androgynous, right? 

Four days ago I talked to my manager and shared the toxicity of having to work with Lola. Apparently, an event that occurred that day pushed me over the edge and made me walk towards my manager at the end of my shift and ask her if I can talk to her for a few minutes. It was then that I was finally able to verbalize the dread I feel when I am working with Lola. I did not desire that my manager would impose any retribution. It’s just, by my nature, I like to solve problems. Her attitude at work is a problem affecting me and I needed to solve it. 

So she was asked to a sign a warning. So she cried at work the next day she signed that warning. So she doesn’t talk to me when I came back to work today. So what? Bottomline is, my problem is solved. At least for a change she does not say hateful words to colleagues and customers, she does not bang pots and gossip about everyone’s life and hers while all of us try to work, she does not smile at me and then stick a knife my back when I turn. I’ve worked with her long enough to guarantee a relapse. But for what it’s worth, at least I will no longer have to bitch fit about her here and spend unnecessary word count on my grievances on her attitude.

Today our employers came over to meet with us and talk about our thoughts as the annual lease of the house is about to end. Everyone here have decided we do not want to leave. As it is, our house is affordable and convenient to work. Making that choice was a no-brainer. The second thing they talked to us about is if we want to permanently reside in Canada. He wanted to know if we want to permanently reside here and as he posed this question he was looking at me. And then silence. I felt he was waiting for an answer and I think I was expected to answer first as he was looking at me. But all I was able to blurt out was. “Do we have to decide now?” Seriously?! Of all the things to reply, I say the whiniest things. Seriously.

The rest of my housemates have decided that all of us want to start the ball rolling on our permanent residence. And so there I was sitting on my indecision and trying not to make a faux pas. Although I did not say I “yes” or “no” since no vote was done, you know that when you don’t speak up you must forever hold your peace. I don’t know yet if I will regret not voicing the causes of my indecision. But, for sure, as this discussion has been opened already I must start thinking about it already. 

After the meeting, I decided to mentally consider my options. It was then that I realized I am not not being a woman just because I make a decision and follow-through on it. The reality is my one-dimensional decisions are a result of three-dimensional dissections of the options I have. My fickle-mindedness happens only on the process of making a choice as I weigh the pros and cons. I may hem and a haw for as long as can be but when I do make a choice it is usually immutable as anything less than that choice means I'll pay a price I can't afford.

Being brought up by the General to stand up for the choices I’ve made coupled by all the cost I've paid with all my poor decisions and indecision in the past taught me over and over to think hard and think long before I decide, because at all times the pros and cons of our choices are gender-neutral.