I understood the metaphor. The door could also be accepting a job you don’t really want somewhere because it makes your husband’s life easier, and thinking what a cooperative spouse you are. The door could be smiling at a strange man who smiles at you just because you have no idea how irrational this stranger can be if you don’t. The door could be wearing oversized baggy sweats when you’d rather wear shorts. All of my life I was an A cup and never worried about men leering at my breasts. When I was 22, after I had my daughter, I went to a C cup. My inability to cope with the way men leer at breasts caused me to alter my posture to such an astonishing degree that I am now, at 43, in physical therapy to correct it. I am faced with a choice right now to either accept an offer for a PhD at a school I really don’t know if I want to go to so my husband can quit his job or hold out for another year for a school I absolutely know I want to go to. Do I accept the first offer or stick with the adjacent set of doors? We’re selfish if we don’t accommodate, right? And when you confront that issue, those happy, eager- to- please- you men say they never said that you were selfish. Gaslights. I understood the metaphor of the door.