Moving In (Fairness, Equality, and Gender Roles)

Moving in with my boyfriend has given me a lot of time to think about heterosexual relationships, shared living spaces, and the gendered division of housework (because I didn't get an expensive Women's studies degree *not* to over analyze mundane life events). A lot of interesting (and surprising) things have come up.

First, some non-domestic personal context:
I am a sign language interpreter. I work part time at a local community college and take occasional freelance work on the side. On a very busy (and atypical) work week, I'll work 25-30 billable hours.
My boyfriend, on the other hand, works full time in a management position in retail. He loves it, is good at it, and is definitely able to support himself on his salary.

So, what does this mean for us in a domestic it context? It means that a lot of the trajectory of our relationship has been determined by his job over mine. It takes him longer than me to get ready in the morning, so we'd stay with him most nights. Because of that, we eventually moved in to his place. (Granted, it was a bit more complicated than that--he has more space, too--but his job definitely played a role.)

His job also means that I am responsible for more than half of the household upkeep. As a sincere feminist who understands the realities of unequal distribution of housework, this is not something I ever thought I'd suffer quietly or (Friedan forbid!) willingly!

This is where we have to have a sidebar about fairness and equality. If we were operating under the assumption that the ultimate goal in our relationship was equality, then we'd do equal housework. But that wouldn't be fair, considering that I work outside the house only about half as many hours as he does.

The flip side of this arrangement is that I don't earn as much money as he does. That means that if we were splitting bills 50/50, I would be unfairly burdened financially. So, while our input into bills and housework are unequal, they are fair. Or will be fair. This is all a new arrangement that still needs to be fully hammered out.

So here I am, sitting on the couch in the house that I don't own where I now live, justifying why I have fallen into the same old rut of unequal division of housework. Am I living in a fantasy world? Am I becoming the woman I swore I'd never be? Who knows, but if this is what it means to be a feminist in her twenties in love, I think I'll take it.