“Emotional labor is often invisible to men because a lot of it happens out of their sight. Emotional labor is when my friends and I carefully coordinate to make sure that nobody who’s invited to the party has drama with anyone else at the party, and then everyone comes and has a great time and has no idea how much thought went into it.Emotional labor is when I have to cope, again, with the distress I feel at having to clean myself in a dirty bathroom or cook my food in a dirty kitchen because my male roommate didn’t think it was important to clean up his messes. Emotional labor is having to start the 100th conversation with my male roommate about how I need my living space to be cleaner. Emotional labor is reminding my male roommate the next day that he agreed to clean up his mess but still hasn’t. Emotional labor is reassuring him that it’s okay, I’m not mad, I understand that he’s had a very busy stressful week. Emotional labor is not telling him that I’ve had a very busy stressful week, too, and his fucking mess made it even worse.
Emotional labor is reassuring my partner over and over that yes, I love him, yes, I find him attractive, yes, I truly want to be with him, because he will not do the work of developing his self-esteem and relies on me to bandage those constantly-reopening wounds. Emotional labor is letting my partner know that I didn’t like what he did sexually last night, because he never asked me first if I wanted to do that. Emotional labor is reassuring him that, no, it’s okay, I’m not mad, I just wanted him to know for next time, yes, of course I love him, no, this doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to him, I’m just not interested in that sort of sex. Emotional labor is not being able to rely on him to reassure me that it’s not my fault that I didn’t like the sex, because this conversation has turned into my reassuring him, again.
Emotional labor is when my friend messages me once every few weeks with multiple paragraphs about his life, which I listen to and empathize with. Afterwards, he thanks me for being “such a good listener.” He asks how my life has been, and I say, “Well, not bad, but school has been so stressful lately…” He says, “Oh, that sucks! Well, anyway, I’d better get to bed, but thanks again for listening!”
Emotional labor is when my friend messages me and, with no trigger warning and barely any greeting, launches into a story involving self-harm or suicide or something else of that sort because “you know about this stuff.”
Emotional labor was almost all of my male friends in high school IMing me to talk about how the girls all go for the assholes.
Emotional labor is when my partners decide they don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore, but rather than directly communicating this to me, they start ignoring me or being mean for weeks until I have to ask what’s going on, hear that “I guess I’m just not into you anymore,” and then have to be the one to suggest breaking up. For extra points, then I have to comfort them about the breakup.
Emotional labor is setting the same boundary over and over, and every time he says, “I’m sorry, I know you already told me this, I guess I’d just forgotten.”
Emotional labor is being asked to completely explain and justify my boundaries. “I mean, that’s totally valid and I will obviously respect that, I just really want to understand, you know?”
Emotional labor is hiding the symptoms of mental illness, pretending my tears are from allergies, laughing too loudly at his jokes, not because I’m just in principle unwilling to open up about it, but because I know that he can’t deal with my mental illness and that I’ll just end up having to comfort him because my pain is too much for him to bear.
Emotional labor is managing my male partners’ feelings around how often we have sex, and soothing their disappointment when they expected to have sex (even though I never said we would) and then didn’t, and explaining why I didn’t want to have sex this time, and making sure we “at least cuddle a little before bed” even though after all of this, to be quite honest, the last thing I fucking want is to touch him.
”
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bleatmop
Mystro
The Arbourist
Dead Wild Roses 
8 comments
August 10, 2015 at 9:11 am
The Intransigent One
Powerful piece.
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August 11, 2015 at 6:40 am
mariesnyder
I actually had a couple’s therapist once, when I was pregnant with my first, tell me that I should be there for my man DURING LABOUR because he’s never been through something like this before. I replied, “But neither have I.” But that didn’t seem to be the issue. He was more sensitive and needed more help. I dumped both of them before the birth. This is a difficult issue to get out into the open – to be seen as real.
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August 11, 2015 at 9:04 am
The Arbourist
@Mariesnyder
Wow. How brutal is that? :( So unacceptable, especially from a therapist.
IBTP :(
It is funny how these issues pertaining to the experiences of women in society are ‘difficult to get into the open’.
It’s almost as if the people who run society think that their experience is norm and the everyone else is sharing it, more or less.
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August 15, 2015 at 1:28 pm
Sedate Me
Funny. I tried to read the story…but it was just one long, empty, space. Maybe the headline was right.
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August 15, 2015 at 2:21 pm
The Arbourist
@Sedate Me
I hate it when that happens. :>
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August 16, 2015 at 12:54 pm
Sedate Me
And what’s the current Minimum Wage for Emotional Labour these days?
Note: None of the below is intended to diminish what the author is feeling. But I’m on a roll today and in the mood to give snarky, but theoretically helpful, advice.
To me, much of this Emotional Labour borders on “self-inflicted wounds”. For example, trying alter a heterosexual male’s mood to fit your liking (especially regarding mis-matched sex drives) is like pushing a boulder up a mountain. Boulders like to roll down mountains. People in weaker emotional condition should avoid heavy lifting. Nor should they operate motorized vehicles.
And many of the author’s points are made possible ONLY with the eager assistance of our good ol’ “friend”, modern technology. It seems to encourage emotional insecurity and self-obsession in people. Specifically:
– the high school losers constantly IM-ing her because she’s the only person with a vagina who’ll talk to them. If she’s not going to give them a “handy”, or set them up with an “easy” friend, (Ain’t NO shame in that slut game!), which is almost certainly what they’re after…she’s got to tell them, “Guys, quit acting like teenage girls. Women don’t respect whiny bitches and neither do I. Work out your frustrations by ‘pulling your goalie’, if you have to.” You’d be surprised how quick that shit ends when they realize they’re never getting a Mercy Hump.
-the “friends” (aka pro-bono psychiatric patients) who can’t be bothered to show up in person & spend actual time with their “friend”, but who use the handy device glued to their hand to share every single emotional “ouchie”. They use the technology to come out of nowhere and dump a pile of personal problems whenever they feel like it. Those aren’t friends. They are capital-F “Friends” who get more self-obsessed & depressed every single minute they’re on Loserbook. Those vampires will suck you dry.
There’s an “Off” button and I recommend everyone use it for this very reason. Rarely did anyone complain about being overwhelmed by other people’s “emotional baggage” when those people actually had to travel across town to see their “emotional porter” face-to-face, or when they had to write it in an actual letter and mail it. The more convenient a “good listener” (aka doormat) is, the more people will wipe their feet on them. If you become less available, you’d be surprised how much less Emotional Labour people give you. They’ll quickly use their precious devices to find somebody else to dump their bullshit on. It’s not about your relationship at all. It’s all about them & their needy egos.
Here’s some other simple rules/advice for both the Emotional Labourer & the Labouree:
1) You wanna talk about your feelings? Most people have it bad enough already without your crap being dumped on them. Go see a fucking shrink. Or talk to your dog. He’s probably more interested than anybody else is and he’ll love you no matter how fucked up you are.
2) “Anti-stress” Brownies. It’s amazing how little you care about anything after you swallow a tray of brownies and watch a Trailer Park Boys marathon. Unfortunately, this highly successful treatment is still inexplicably illegal without a prescription. Hopefully, this federal election will fix that problem.
3) Just treat emotions like battery acid and everything will be cool. Keep them locked away in a safe container. Don’t pour them on other people. And don’t let other people pour them on you. You’ll probably experience a painful meltdown.
I say all this out of loving compassion for my fellow human beings. :)
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August 16, 2015 at 1:52 pm
The Arbourist
@Sedate Me
Hello SM. Sometimes I wish I had more positive things to say about a comment on my blog.
This isn’t one of those times.
Usually, I’d pick out the extra atrocious bits and quote them for clarity; but I think rather than doing that well just start with what is obviously the problem and then go from there.
There are significant differences in female and male socialization. The background soup we swim in, while in society, comes in distinctly different flavours. The flavours I am referring to are the gendered expectations men and women are implicitly and explicitly required to live by, they are inescapable – they mould our ambitions and perceptions of self and how we are supposed to act in society.
Because women and men receive different socialization routines their experiences in the same shared society are fundamentally different. Thus, the lens that we view and analyze society is also fundamentally different.
Academic Men Explain Things To Me
But What Was She Wearing?
I once had a guy tell me…
When Women Refuse
The above links are from my sidebar under the feminism category. The reason they are there is that each site tells a little bit of the story of what it is like to be female in our society.
The events and details described rarely, if ever, happen to men. Again, why? Differential socialization.
Now bearing this in mind – let’s reread some stuff of the stuff you said.
Women in our society are expected to do the emotional heavy lifting in our relationships. They are often made responsible for the health of the relationship and are expected to expend the energy to keep said relationship going.
Do women know how hard it is to be emotionally responsible for another’s feelings? You bet they do – some dudes can’t get past the emotional caretaking their mom gave them and expect the same from their wife/partner etc.
You act as if guys actually respect what women say and listen to them when they say ‘no’ or ‘stop bothering me’. Let me point out here, that this is a #NotAllMen moment here – but a enough of a critical mass exists in society that do not respect the boundaries of women which makes it an issue – and thus the rejoinder #yesallwomen is required.
Or less surprised when they ruin your reputation, stalk you or even rape you because they can. Are you familiar with the virgin/whore dichotomy or patriarchal shit sandwich that is forced on all women? The very best part is that you,as a woman do not get to decide the label or even when it is applied – you’ll be shamed for being a cold, heartless bitch of a prude, or as a fuck-happy dirty skank.
So, socially speaking women must walk the tightrope of this dichotomy and this shit happens as early as primary school.
Now reflect on your experiences growing up, are they anything even remotely like this(and consider this is but one small slice of what growing up female is like)?
So telling some dude to fuck-off and just leave you alone is almost entirely different (and the consequences are vastly different) when you’re doing it as a woman versus doing it as man.
So here is the rub,
When I see a comment that has been put through the lens of someone who has experienced male socialization I look to see if the comment tries to redefine the problem and solution via male problem solving techniques or if the comment actually grapples with the issues raised by the OP and understanding of another’s point of view is appreciated and possibly empathized with.
The former, is usually called mansplaining. The later, is framed as empathic, authentic regard for another’s perceptions and feelings.
So, which do you think, given the criteria set out, that most of your comment falls under?
Concomitantly, consider how often women, given their lower social status and standing within society, have to listen to their problems ‘fixed’ through a lens, that by definition, will not work for them – and imagine if you would the level of frustration, eye-rolling, and general ennui when for the ‘n-th’ time today you’re told *this* is how things work and *here’s* how to fix it.
Me too. :)
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August 19, 2015 at 2:00 pm
Sedate Me
Written like a true, loving, smother…er…smother…arrgh!… mother as she gently schools her ignorant son, being careful not to wound his fragile male ego, lest he fly into a violent rage. Thanks mommy! Normally I’d have to pay a “mommy” $250 an hour for this kind of top-shelf “nurturing”. ;)
(Note: I’m not posting the rest of my comment until I can figure out a way to make it seem less hostile than it currently appears. Wouldn’t want to turn into a sexist stereotype of a male.)
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