For the first forty years of my life, I could not understand people (including my mom) who disliked overhead lighting. Now, I would way rather fumble in the dark than have that stuff glaring at me (grudging exception if I am using a knife in the kitchen). It’s become a minor source of friction with my husband. I don’t understand what changed.

This is a hell of a way to discover I’m a women

I fully believe that; almost all of the women in my family vastly prefer table lamps. I inherited all 19 of my grandmother’s.

Oh, my mistake, very metal, not feminine.