Posted by / Category London /

‘I don’t know where to go’…so true sometimes!

You may remember that, last week, I was on my way to meet my lovely and oh so British friend L., who had just spent a weekend in Paris with her boyfriend. She had something to tell me. I was expecting her to announce me that they are engaged because that’s what seems to be happening to all my friends after a romantic weekend in Paris. It was starting to become a tad boring, actually.

Well, it turns out that I was completely wrong. This time, things didn’t go as planned.  L. was expecting him to pop the question. She waited and waited. When she realised that he wasn’t going to ask her to marry him after all, she decided to take matters into her own hands. A couple of hours before they had to catch the Eurostar, she tried, as diplomatically as possible, to tell him that, after three years together, they should considered to be engaged.

It didn’t go down very well. Her (posh) boyfriend told her that he had to ask her, not the other way around. They stopped talking on the train and he wouldn’t return her calls since they are back.

This got me thinking: in this day and age, why can’t women take the initiative to get engaged? Mind you, it is not only about being engaged. Time and time again, during my professional life, I sensed that being a woman was a hindrance. It happened to get a loan for my business, to find new clients (they want to talk to the boss, as a female I must be the secretary, obviously). In this day and age, you could have expected things to have evolved. Well, not in France and not in the UK.

I tried to reassure L. as best as I could. I told her that if he truly loves her, he would come back. Give him a couple of months.

We took the tube together to go back home when an older guy looked at her voraciously. The Victoria Line was packed and suddenly L. felt a lost hand touching the lower end of her back. She looked at me helplessly, not knowing what to do with men any more, completely frozen. I didn’t think twice. I grabbed the hand and put it in the air, asking loudly to whom it belonged. The older guy blushed and try to mutter something. I didn’t give him a chance.

“Get a life, you old pervert!” People were looking at me in a funny way. Some started to smile.

It felt good. L. thanked me but I think that now she believes that I am a bit mad. So tell me, what’s wrong with women taking the initiative?

Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London