Entitlement/What are we worth?

I've been thinking a lot this weekend about what we are worth, what we are worthy of, what we are deserved of, what we are entitled to. It stemmed from a conversation that I had with a couple of friends on Friday night and I've been mulling it ever since (hey, if there are two things I'm good at, it's drinking Zinfandel and mulling).
Having dated a few men in 2007 I was surprised to hear that some people (men and women) assume that the man should pick up the cheque on the first date. I've never believed this because: a) it makes me feel uncomfortable and as though I "owe" something; b) it vaguely insinuates that I am worth less financially and that the man is the breadwinner so he should pay; and c) it's pompous to expect someone else to foot the bill for simply being in my presence for a brief period of time. Additionally, it doesn't make sense economically: how many first dates would a guy have to pay for before finding someone he wanted to have a serious relationship with? It seems an expensive venture.
So, if we are not entitled to having our meals and drinks bought and paid for, then what? Should car doors be opened for you? Should he send flowers on anniversary dates? Should he spend three months of his salary to buy you a nice ring? Is the ring an indication of how much he loves you?
I tried to look at it from another angle: work. You are only worth what your employer pays you. If you think you are worth $100,000 but are getting paid $75,000, then you are worth $75,000 until you go out and get another job for another sum of money. I think this rationale can also be applied to our personalities. I think I am a totally awesome person and that everyone should fall over themselves to be with me. I know, too, that my friends and family would say "yeah... but she's loud, obnoxious, opinionated, egotistical, crude, elitist and stubborn". I'm quite sure we all walk around thinking we're the most fantastic person you've never met, and that's just it: we all think that about ourselves. It doesn't matter what you think about yourself because you will only ever be what society deems you to be. As I runner I think I'm in great shape. And the women in the walking clinic probably think I have a great body and perhaps they aspire to it. But the women that are in the faster group than me likely think I should cut out carbs, hit the gym more often and lose ten pounds.
I suppose this is ego. And I further suppose that my ego is rampant and, for the most part, relatively unchecked. I need to work on my ego. Leggo my ego. What's so great about me? Nothing. What do I have to offer that others don't? Nothing. You are only valuable if someone else sees something of value in you.
A couple of months ago Michael and I went for dinner with a group of runners from our clinic. One of the guys there had brought his wife (not a runner) along. I like this guy, D: he's had some amazing life experiences; has a great sense of humor; is attractive; successful; positive and balanced. I found it interesting that he wanted to know the details of Michael and my relationship (we had only recently been "outed" at that point). I explained that Michael and I had been together for six years, split for one, and that we had recently gotten back together. He was surprisingly positive, which I found refreshing given the amount of scepticism I had encountered from other people. He made a comment about being able to learn from the past and grow from it and to look to the future. He then said something that kind of blew my mind. D basically said that the relationship with his wife was somewhat tenuous (they have a couple of kids): she was aware that he wasn't a given in her life - he had the option of leaving when he wanted. He didn't say this in a conceited way, and his love for his wife and children was evident, and it took me a while to process this: he was no more beholden to his wife and that lifestyle than she was to him.
I'm not sure that I'm entirely comfortable with that thought process. In fact, I know I'm not. I want things to be secure, concrete. I want safety and security and longevity. I don't have it. I have a relationship that I work very hard at and that I appreciate immensely. I love Michael tremendously and try to do my best to demonstrate it whenever I can and to appreciate all that he is (more Citrix Power Point tonight, naturally). But he owes me nothing and I owe him nothing. There is nothing stopping him for asking that hot girl with the long blonde hair and tight Lululemon workout gear walking her dog past us yesterday afternoon for her number. Alternatively, there is no reason that he had to buy me dinner tonight, or walk me home or offer to cash out his GICs this past November when my fucknut mortgage broker couldn't get her act together.
I guess what I'm trying to say, in a very, very long winded way, is that none of us are entitled to anything. I had this epiphany today when driving to Park Royal in the rain to return an expensive purse that I had bought that I didn't feel I was worthy of. We were born. That's what we were entitled to. And if you were born healthy, and into a loving and positive environment, then the rest is on you. Anything good or positive above and beyond that that happened to us is either a result of dumb luck or very hard work and we should be appropriately grateful for that, because there are millions of people that were born into incredibly dire situations, or people that have had strokes of very bad luck.
No one owes anyone anything. We do things because we're motivated to (for whatever reason: love; lust; power; money; greed; guilt; a sense of well-being). We're all here, doing the same damn thing, thinking that we're deserved of more.
You want more? Go out and get it.