The Privilege of Not Caring

“I don’t care. Whatever you want to do is fine.”

If you’re a married woman (especially if you have kids), you may have heard this before.

This week, I saw a post about men not caring what their wives cook for dinner or what activities they sign their kids up for. Without thinking too much about it, I commented on the post. It was just one line, but it resonated with thousands of women.

The comment? “Not caring is a privilege that most women don’t have (in a lot of ways).”

Not always, but often, saying “I don’t care” is really saying “I don’t want to spend my time or mental energy thinking about this, but I want you to spend yours.” That’s a privilege. You can ignore something that needs to be done because you know someone else will handle it for you, or because you think it doesn’t really affect you.

It’s similar to when your partner fails to do some little thing like put their coat away or clean the toothpaste off the sink. It’s implying that the task isn’t worth their time. But also, someone should probably do it, right? Someone should care enough to do it. We can’t go our entire lives without wiping down the counters.

Deciding what’s for dinner, what activities to sign your kids up for, and where you should take your next vacation might seem insignificant or mundane, but those decisions need to be made. Someone has to make them, along with the dozens of related decisions that get you to the finish line of a family who is fed … until the next meal.

Because making that one decision of what to have for dinner actually requires a significant amount of thought and care:

• Should we cook or order takeout?

• What can we make with the ingredients we have?

• What can we afford right now?

• Do we have enough time to make that before everyone is hungry?

• Should we pick it up or get it delivered?

• What’s our schedule today?

• What have we had recently, so we aren’t eating the same thing again?

• Is it healthy enough?

• Are there food allergies to consider?

• What are our preferences?

• Will the kids eat it too, or do they need a separate meal?

That’s the mental load of a single decision we make every day (cognitive labor, if you prefer a more technical term).

To be fair, men aren’t the only ones saying they don’t care to get out of decision-making. But the research shows that on average, women are doing more cognitive labor at home, and many of those women are tired of making all these little never-ending decisions alone.

Because even though each one is small, we know they have significance.

What we feed our children, what activities they do (and with who, and how often), and where we have our family vacations all have downstream effects. If we choose incorrectly, it’s on us. We carry the guilt. We ask ourselves what it would have been like if we had chosen differently.

To be in an equal partnership or to be an involved parent, caring is required. If your partner is asking for your input, they want it. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have asked.

To learn more about how you can share the mental load more equitably at home, subscribe to my Substack and visit my website: www.mockingbirdlearning.com