too independent

 At a young age, my mother (may she requiescat in pacem) made a point of teaching me how to mend and wash my own clothes, to cook nourishing food and to clean up after myself, to cut my own hair, to be, in effect, a self-sustaining and independent individual. <You must be able to do these things for yourself,> I remember her saying, <because you will be a bachelor some day and may not have anyone else on whom to rely.> (She understood the proper use of grammar, btw.)
  I may not be able to cook a dinner party for twenty five people; I may not be all too savvy in matters financial; but when it comes to doing the things that are necessary to live a relatively healthy and happy life, I am more than capable. For the most part, this is a positive state of affairs, as I maintain a lifestyle largely free from disease and mostly devoid of excessive stress. One of the side-affects of this state of affairs is, however, that I am not beholden to others (i.e. females) to do the tasks that society (in its persistent sexism) still expects from persons with two X chromosomes, such as laundry (I hang it up outside in the fresh air), or cooking (I do not crave the skills of a superior cook, as my skills are quite sufficient in terms of nutritional value, appearance, and taste).
  An additional side-affect of my abiltiy to perform nearly any household task with ease is a unique perspective on the opposite sex: since I can do nearly everything society tells men to expect of women, I view them as equals, approach them as equals, speak to them as equals, and wind up getting mixed and confusing results (due, I believe, to their having been conditioned to expect men to behave in a superior and condescending fashion).
  I, the consummate bachelor, while not condemned to hermitdom, do indeed spend many days and nights alone, not necessarily fretting over my condition, but wondering what life would be like as a less capable, less industrious, and less self-sufficient animal. I doubt, however, that I will ever know.