When I first heard this new-fangled term, I assumed it was just a hoity-toity way for a Hollywood elitist to make herself feel unique and special and better about getting a divorce than the rest of the divorcing public, whether famous or not. And I think, in a way, I'm right. Then I read the "explanation."
Wow.
Basically, a couple of people decided that since we're living longer than we used to, it's not reasonable for people to promise "until death" or "forever" because it'll last a lot longer. In their minds, it's unreasonable and unrealistic for people to choose to stay together more than 10 or 15 years. And since humans' life expectancies has increased exponentially over the past 100 years, marriage vows can realistically be expected to last a decade or so, then cycle through to the next relationship. Nowadays, we ought to have an average of 3 or so marriages because no one can commit to just one person for 50 years! So...after we go through the honeymoon phase and realize our spouse isn't perfect, we stew and brew and get irritated for few years until we decide we're better off apart and we "consciously uncouple" but still make nice for the kiddos.
What a bunch of bologna! (No offense to bologna...) I don't care what generation you're in or how old you are or how old you are when you get married. Love is a choice. Marriage is a choice. It is a lifetime commitment that we are quite capable of keeping should we choose to put forth the effort. It isn't always easy or pretty. It doesn't always work. Some marriages should never be entered into; some cannot be saved. Some divorces are not wanted by both parties. But marriage CAN last.
I think its a very lazy cop-out to claim life expectancy should change commitments. Marriage is more than a piece of paper. It's more than an "I love you today, so I'll stay." It's "I love you. I will choose to always love you. I'll choose to always stay. I'll choose to change and grow with you, not apart from you. I'll love whomever you become and expect the same from you for me. I'll choose to stay when the feeling isn't easily found, bubbling up on the surface. I'll choose to wake up and love you even when I don't like you." But it's also "I cannot believe how much I love you and love the life we've made for ourselves. I cannot believe how happy I am in daily and simple things. I can't believe how much I laugh with you and how blessed I am that we choose each other. I cannot believe how rich my life is because you are in it and we have chosen to stay together, even through the challenges." Love is a choice. Marriage is a choice. It should not be entered into lightly. It shouldn't be entered into with an "until-I-change-my-mind" mentality.
I have said "'til death." Twice. I meant it. And you know what? As hard as it was to take it so seriously that my husband actually died, I loved again so deeply that I said it again, knowing what I was risking. Knowing what I might go through. Knowing that, until Lino or I are called from this life, I commit to being his wife.
My brother is an awesome guy, for a lot of reasons. One of the things I love most deeply about him is his willingness to ask or say things that probably other people think but no one would have the gumption to voice. And maybe that's because we're siblings. If so, I have a precious gift in him that no one else gets. And I am blessed. Either way, I remember after marrying Lino, my brother asking, "Was it hard or weird when you got to 'til death do us part?'" Yes, Matt. It was weird. It can't help but bring back of flood of emotions and memories. And yes, it was hard. Recalling mine and Nathan's last journey is never easy. But I never regret going through it or thinking of it. But it was also a very easy promise to make again. It was easy because my worst fears have already been realized and I know that, no matter what, God is still God. And I am still here. And as long as God keeps me here, He has good things to give me and work for me to do on His behalf.
So I will live my life filled with love and hope and life and joy. I will say "Til Death!" And I will mean it. There will be no "conscious uncoupling." Rather, we will not go gentle into that good night. This family, this marriage will be CONSCIOUSLY tended and cared for and worked on and joy-filled until death separates us.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Love Is...
As I approach this new year, as I reflect on my parents' relationship, as I evaluate my own marriage, it got me contemplating what or how Love is shown.
For me, Love is...
*riding in a car for 8 hours without getting on one another's nerves.
*loving to talk with the other person, but being equally comfortable in the silence.
*tolerating a radio station you would not choose because the other person enjoys it. (we both did that yesterday!)
*reaching for a hand to hold and knowing it will be there.
*singing along at the top of your lungs without being embarrassed.
*knowing you can sob all over your loved one's shoulder over a major life disappointment without feeling like you should suck it up and get over it.
*getting the other person a glass of water or going to pick up their favorite food without huffing or eye-rolling.
*feeling free to ask the aforementioned favor.
*taking a walk together just because you enjoy one another's company.
*curling up watching TV or sitting beside one another reading. knowing it's not always even about the activity, it's about being together. it's about sharing space and life.
*the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that the other person has chosen YOU to spend their life with.
*the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that you chose them as well. and that, no matter how deep into the journey you are, you still like the other person.
*knowing that your life will never be the same.
*not looking for greener grass, but tending your own together.
*every little, fantastic thing that, by itself may seem insignificant. but when you add them all up, it means love.
For me, Love is...
*riding in a car for 8 hours without getting on one another's nerves.
*loving to talk with the other person, but being equally comfortable in the silence.
*tolerating a radio station you would not choose because the other person enjoys it. (we both did that yesterday!)
*reaching for a hand to hold and knowing it will be there.
*singing along at the top of your lungs without being embarrassed.
*knowing you can sob all over your loved one's shoulder over a major life disappointment without feeling like you should suck it up and get over it.
*getting the other person a glass of water or going to pick up their favorite food without huffing or eye-rolling.
*feeling free to ask the aforementioned favor.
*taking a walk together just because you enjoy one another's company.
*curling up watching TV or sitting beside one another reading. knowing it's not always even about the activity, it's about being together. it's about sharing space and life.
*the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that the other person has chosen YOU to spend their life with.
*the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that you chose them as well. and that, no matter how deep into the journey you are, you still like the other person.
*knowing that your life will never be the same.
*not looking for greener grass, but tending your own together.
*every little, fantastic thing that, by itself may seem insignificant. but when you add them all up, it means love.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
A Godly Marriage
To have a Godly marriage, or even a healthy marriage, is something most people strive towards but often find challenging. It's even harder if you haven't been able to witness it in action on a daily basis. But I have. As has almost anyone who's ever encountered Jim or Mary Davis for more that 2 minutes.
Two things in particular have stuck in my mind since
childhood. They were spoken by my
parents, then acted upon. When I was
twelve, I asked my mother how she knew she still loved Dad. After all, I assumed the romantic butterflies
had faded. She said, “love is a choice
you make every day when you wake up.” I
also remember hearing my dad tell my brother and I, very matter-of-factly (with
no meanness whatsoever) “I love your mother more than I love you.”
For 14,610 days, they have chosen to wake up and love
one another. They have lived a life
putting one another first, over everyone else.
As they should! They have made
tough choices and sacrifices. They have never had brand-name everythings and gigantic paychecks. Yet they both consider themselves blessed beyond measure. They've been able to travel the world together. I love that after 40 years, they are still one another's best friends and favorite traveling companions.
Oh sure, they have had moments of being annoyed by
one another. But I can probably count on
one hand the number of times I ever heard them fight. But I remember one time in particular, cross
words were spoken. Not only did they
make up and the offending party apologized, the offender actually apologized to
my brother and I as well. The apology
was not for fighting in front of us. It
was for acting disrespectfully toward our parent and for not cherishing their
spouse. The fight lasted a matter of
minutes and was instantly followed by the apology. The craziest thing about apologizing to my
brother and I is that we were already adults.
The example these two are of choosing love daily is
mindblowing. The thing I find equally
impressive is how easy they make the choice on the other person! Each would probably credit the other with
making the marriage easy. I’ve never
thought either of them was struggling to love one another. He still thinks she’s the most beautiful
woman in any and every room. She still
thinks he’s the kindest, most generous man she’s ever known. I think they’re both right.
Happy Anniversary.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas. I write this in the 3 am hour because I could not sleep. I don't know why. It's not childlike giddiness. It's annoying, grown-up, I-had-to-pee-two-hours-ago-and-haven't-been-able-to-sleep-again-since-so-I-might-as-well-get-out-of-bed. So here I am, contemplating Christmas and life. Here's what I've come up with...
Christmas is a beautiful time of year, usually. Homes are decorated inside and out. A general good-naturedness kicks in a little more among friends and strangers. People put forth effort in making or buying things for loved ones, at least thinking of and considering them. (Yes, there's drama and commercialism. But we'll save the complaints for another time.) Yet I understand that there can be an ache, a pain that comes with the holiday.
For those who have no family, it can feel very isolating. For those who's table is a little smaller because of a recent death of a loved one, the empty chair is the most glaringly obvious, or sometimes only, thing seen. For a marriage that crumbled, especially with children involved, there is pain, divisiveness, bitterness, anger, and guilt. For the couple struggling with infertility, be it primary or secondary, there can be a difficulty in missing the twinkle of a child's eye or delight in their laughter that might never be heard or seen.
All that to say, Life rarely turns out the way we expect. That's one of my favorite things to say, especially to young people. (Actually, I usually say, "Life rarely turns out the way you expect, but that's usually a good thing." I'll do a whole separate post on this soon.) It got me thinking more. Jesus Christ, maker of Heaven and Earth, all-knowing Creator, experienced this, too.
Life did not turn out the way He designed. He knew, yes. But Life was not what it was intended, aka expected, to be. Creation rebelled. Man fell. So He chose to come. Did His earthly life play out the way He expected? (Not knew, expected...) Did He expect to have to be on the run as an infant in order to survive to adolescence? Probably not. Did He expect His parents or siblings to think He was a bit off His rocker? Nope. Did He want to have His best friends deny or betray Him? I don't believe so. Did He want to suffer the humiliation and physical trauma of crucifixion? Undoubtedly no. He even asked for the cup to pass if there was another way. He knew. But He still did not want.
Life didn't play out the way Jesus would have scripted if He had written scenes and words for actors to play and say. But He lived it so perfectly, so humanly, and so Godly. So, as I reflect on Emmanuel, God With Us, Creator living in His creation, I realize that even He, the Author, had an unexpected Life.
Whether your life is as you intended, as you planned, as you expected, or not, consider this. God gave us every breath. He counted them all. He knew. No matter how beautiful or painful your life is at this moment, your life, because of His, is precious. Your life is as He knew it would be. Your life is as He can handle. Your life is a blessing. Honor Him by living it well. Because no matter what you thought it would be, it is as it is. And it is a gift.
Christmas is a beautiful time of year, usually. Homes are decorated inside and out. A general good-naturedness kicks in a little more among friends and strangers. People put forth effort in making or buying things for loved ones, at least thinking of and considering them. (Yes, there's drama and commercialism. But we'll save the complaints for another time.) Yet I understand that there can be an ache, a pain that comes with the holiday.
For those who have no family, it can feel very isolating. For those who's table is a little smaller because of a recent death of a loved one, the empty chair is the most glaringly obvious, or sometimes only, thing seen. For a marriage that crumbled, especially with children involved, there is pain, divisiveness, bitterness, anger, and guilt. For the couple struggling with infertility, be it primary or secondary, there can be a difficulty in missing the twinkle of a child's eye or delight in their laughter that might never be heard or seen.
All that to say, Life rarely turns out the way we expect. That's one of my favorite things to say, especially to young people. (Actually, I usually say, "Life rarely turns out the way you expect, but that's usually a good thing." I'll do a whole separate post on this soon.) It got me thinking more. Jesus Christ, maker of Heaven and Earth, all-knowing Creator, experienced this, too.
Life did not turn out the way He designed. He knew, yes. But Life was not what it was intended, aka expected, to be. Creation rebelled. Man fell. So He chose to come. Did His earthly life play out the way He expected? (Not knew, expected...) Did He expect to have to be on the run as an infant in order to survive to adolescence? Probably not. Did He expect His parents or siblings to think He was a bit off His rocker? Nope. Did He want to have His best friends deny or betray Him? I don't believe so. Did He want to suffer the humiliation and physical trauma of crucifixion? Undoubtedly no. He even asked for the cup to pass if there was another way. He knew. But He still did not want.
Life didn't play out the way Jesus would have scripted if He had written scenes and words for actors to play and say. But He lived it so perfectly, so humanly, and so Godly. So, as I reflect on Emmanuel, God With Us, Creator living in His creation, I realize that even He, the Author, had an unexpected Life.
Whether your life is as you intended, as you planned, as you expected, or not, consider this. God gave us every breath. He counted them all. He knew. No matter how beautiful or painful your life is at this moment, your life, because of His, is precious. Your life is as He knew it would be. Your life is as He can handle. Your life is a blessing. Honor Him by living it well. Because no matter what you thought it would be, it is as it is. And it is a gift.
Friday, December 20, 2013
My Take on Duck Dynasty
I am saddened for the misinterpretation surrounding Phil Robertson's comments. He never compared homosexuality to bestiality or terrorism, as he's being accused of doing. He was asked, "what, in your mind, is sinful?" Ok, so the interviewer not only asked what is sinful, but phrased it "in your mind?" In your opinion. In your way of thinking. In your interpretation.
He started a list of what he believes sinful behavior is. A list that is in the Bible. Guess what else is on would be on that list, according to the Bible? Lying. Judging. Denying God. He also included sleeping around with lots of women. Most people, particularly Christians and / or married folks, would agree that's not something you should do. Most people would agree that terrorism is not something you should do. Most people would agree that bestiality is not something you should do.
He also went on to say that he was not judging or would ever act unkindly towards someone he disagreed with on spiritual issues. He leaves that to God. Why is it that his remarks are being misinterpreted? And why is it that he is being persecuted suddenly for being a Christian. The family prays at the end of every episode! They are on "I Am Second" billboards. Are people surprised to find out he is a Christian?
Considering the question the interviewer asked, I guess I'm really unclear what anyone expected him to say. Everyone sins. Period. Non-negotiable. Even Phil. Sin is offensive. If we didn't all sin, we wouldn't need God. We wouldn't need Jesus. God wouldn't have sent His Son. We wouldn't be in this season of Christmas.
And why, oh why, oh why can we not disagree with people without being perceived as bigoted, homophobic, or any other negative label? Why is it not believable that we might actually be able to love someone without agreeing with every decision they make on how they live their lives? Why is it not believable that we can make mistakes and sin, acknowledge it as sin, seek forgiveness, and still love ourselves and our God?
Can you hear me say I don't believe sex outside of marriage? Can you forgive me when I fall short of that? Can you believe me when I say I love you unconditionally when you're living with your boyfriend / girlfriend? I may not agree with you, I may not have always lived up to the standard I hold to be true, but I do always love you and still love me.
Sin sucks. Sin offends. God forgives. God loves. Phil loves. I love.
He started a list of what he believes sinful behavior is. A list that is in the Bible. Guess what else is on would be on that list, according to the Bible? Lying. Judging. Denying God. He also included sleeping around with lots of women. Most people, particularly Christians and / or married folks, would agree that's not something you should do. Most people would agree that terrorism is not something you should do. Most people would agree that bestiality is not something you should do.
He also went on to say that he was not judging or would ever act unkindly towards someone he disagreed with on spiritual issues. He leaves that to God. Why is it that his remarks are being misinterpreted? And why is it that he is being persecuted suddenly for being a Christian. The family prays at the end of every episode! They are on "I Am Second" billboards. Are people surprised to find out he is a Christian?
Considering the question the interviewer asked, I guess I'm really unclear what anyone expected him to say. Everyone sins. Period. Non-negotiable. Even Phil. Sin is offensive. If we didn't all sin, we wouldn't need God. We wouldn't need Jesus. God wouldn't have sent His Son. We wouldn't be in this season of Christmas.
And why, oh why, oh why can we not disagree with people without being perceived as bigoted, homophobic, or any other negative label? Why is it not believable that we might actually be able to love someone without agreeing with every decision they make on how they live their lives? Why is it not believable that we can make mistakes and sin, acknowledge it as sin, seek forgiveness, and still love ourselves and our God?
Can you hear me say I don't believe sex outside of marriage? Can you forgive me when I fall short of that? Can you believe me when I say I love you unconditionally when you're living with your boyfriend / girlfriend? I may not agree with you, I may not have always lived up to the standard I hold to be true, but I do always love you and still love me.
Sin sucks. Sin offends. God forgives. God loves. Phil loves. I love.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Weathering the Storm
As you know, this past Sunday tornadic weather hit Illinois and other parts of the Midwest. The Bears game had an almost two-hour delay. Some people lost everything they owned. Some people lost their lives. While we did not hear the sirens in our neighborhood, we were under tornado warnings for an hour or two. My prayers go out to those who were hit by this storm.
I do not write this to sound at all trite about the magnitude of the storm or downplay what anyone has experienced. Rather, I write this from my perspective - trying to protect my son from both weather and fear. I made his lunch and sent him downstairs, where Lino was working and listening to music. I made my lunch and followed them. (We rarely, if ever, eat in our basement.) We tried to have fun and keep the mood light, particularly for Jackson's sake. But I also had flashes back to when Lino and I were early dating. We would sit at the table, just listening to music and playlists on the computer, talking, singing, and sharing our favorite songs. On a few rare occasions, we would dance in the kitchen. After the storms passed, I realized what a precious and rare experience we had that afternoon in our basement. It also made me think of how much storms can reflect life, in general. Out came a poem. I share it hesitantly, as writing blogs doesn't intimidate me, but sharing poetry and the likes (paintings, etc.) makes me nervous and shy and scared. (Putting myself out there artistically is very intimidating for me!) But here it is, none the less...
I do not write this to sound at all trite about the magnitude of the storm or downplay what anyone has experienced. Rather, I write this from my perspective - trying to protect my son from both weather and fear. I made his lunch and sent him downstairs, where Lino was working and listening to music. I made my lunch and followed them. (We rarely, if ever, eat in our basement.) We tried to have fun and keep the mood light, particularly for Jackson's sake. But I also had flashes back to when Lino and I were early dating. We would sit at the table, just listening to music and playlists on the computer, talking, singing, and sharing our favorite songs. On a few rare occasions, we would dance in the kitchen. After the storms passed, I realized what a precious and rare experience we had that afternoon in our basement. It also made me think of how much storms can reflect life, in general. Out came a poem. I share it hesitantly, as writing blogs doesn't intimidate me, but sharing poetry and the likes (paintings, etc.) makes me nervous and shy and scared. (Putting myself out there artistically is very intimidating for me!) But here it is, none the less...
Tornado Dance
Windows wide for the
warm fresh air
A November day
without a care
Supper was made as
the skies grew dark
Wind roared over the
song of the lark
Music blaring and
laughter abound
Drowning the outside
wicked sound
Offer up a strange
new chance
And we chose to do
our tornado dance.
Down to the basement
for safe keeping
Too much danger for
upstairs sleeping
Smiles on our faces
as we’re all together
Safe and sound,
whatever the weather
Music blaring and
laughter abound
Drowning out the
wicked sound
Offer up a strange
new chance
And we chose to do
our tornado dance.
Who knows what comes
Today or tomorrow?
We can live in fear
and sorrow
Or take refuge in a
tiny room
And even though the
threats may loom
We chose to do our
tornado dance.
Pains unknown, left
alone too soon
Or angered, hurt,
battered and bruised
Both were broken, but
both took a chance
And we chose to do
our tornado dance
Music blaring and
laughter abound
Drowning out the
wicked sound
Offer up a strange
new chance
And we chose to do our
tornado dance.
God, a family, music
and a chance
And every day we
choose to tornado dance.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Misogynists are not "real" men
I write a lot when I'm inspired. I go through droughts, then my brain starts percolating. So beware, I may post a bunch over the next few days. I'm inspired by the people I love, by pain I see in others, by weather and tragedy and beauty in nature, and the sad, misguided foolishness I see in others.
I recently discovered a blog dedicated to "reclaiming masculinity." My first thought was, "Cool! I love my manly man and hope to raise a boy to be masculine in the most Godly sense of the word." Boy, was I disappointed! These men were not claiming Christian views of manhood, but even without the religious aspect, they are so far off-base, it's borderline silly...
Where do I begin? Well, I will limit my rants to their issues with me... For starters, women should be ashamed if they have shortly cropped hair. To sum them up, "why would anyone remove their primary symbol of feminine fertility..." Uh, well, because PERSONALLY my femininity is not reduced to the length of my hair and my fertility is completely unrelated to my scalp. I had long hair for a very long time. Some of my Chicago friends hardly recognized in pictures with longer hair. I enjoyed having long hair, for a while. I felt pretty with it, sometimes. But when I cut my hair off, I felt more feminine, beautiful, alive, confident, and well, ME than I ever did with long hair. I don't pull it back in a ponytail. I cannot hide behind it in uncomfortable circumstances. So I've almost been forced to have more confidence.
Speaking of which, they don't think a woman should be confident. Rather, she should be "fragile and vulnerable." Do these men want a china doll they can shatter if she doesn't bend to their every whim? My man LIKES having a confident woman who knows her own mind, has opinions, doesn't need to be told what to do, when to do it, what to wear, or how to think. He likes that he is not responsible for entertaining me or bossing me around. He likes that I have friends and interests I developed independently. He doesn't want someone overly clingy or needy and that requires confidence. That confidence attracted him to me initially. He knows I absolutely adore him and love being with him. But he also loves that I don't twiddle my thumbs waiting for him to come home and my life to resume.
These so-called "men" also declared that a woman's value is primarily determined by her fertility and beauty. Oh. My. Stars. I don't know if any of these males have found lifelong spouses or consider children trophies or what ideas they're rooting into a new generation. But who determines beauty? Oh yeah, it's in the eye of the beholder. Obviously, with my short hair (and I'm sure other equally undesirable physical qualities I must possess) I would not be beautiful in their eyes. But I am to my husband. And I've been told by others who have no obligation to me whatsoever that I'm not unpleasant to behold. I've seen some women who the world holds up and says, "This is beauty." Sometimes I agree. Sometimes, I think to myself, "Eh...not so much." That doesn't mean these misogynists would agree with my perspective.
As for fertility... I cannot even begin to express how much this sentiment angers me! I don't owe anyone an explanation, much less an apology, for how many children I do or do not have. I don't owe anyone information as to how many I want, why I have one, or why the Duggars have 19, (God bless them!) A woman's fertility, ability, or choice of birthing children is not what makes one a "real" or "feminine" woman. A woman's loveliness is not in the length of her hair. A woman's beauty is in her heart. I pity any man who cannot see that, for they are missing deep and remarkable treasures. Their lives are empty for lack of the warmth and wealth of a woman's tenderness and kindness and spunk and love. (I do not say that to imply life with marriage is hollow; but life without relationships (platonic or otherwise) is less rich.)
Their last little issue with me that I will address in this particular post was that "being a stay at home mother should be shamed, not celebrated. Why should she go shopping every day, spending his money while he slaves away in a cubicle?" Uh, sure. Obviously, these people have never met or held a conversation with a SAHM. My husband is the first to tell you that my job is much harder than his; that he would rather go to work than be with the boy, do the dishes, the laundry, the cleaning, the cooking, the errands all day every day. And, oh yeah, shopping with a toddler? Not all it's cracked up to be! If I go "fun" shopping, I don't take the kid. That's either "me" time or girlfriend time and that means hubby is home and wanting time with the boy. And I don't go "fun" shopping all that often. (But even when I do, I rarely buy stuff...) Have you ever tried to go grocery shopping with a three-year-old who refuses to sit in the cart, wants to "help" and grabs the wrong things, wants to hug and high-five EVERY PERSON HE ENCOUNTERS, then tries to "help" bag the groceries? Yep, that's my idea of a good time! Really?
Needless to say, these cavemen are not about recapturing masculinity. They are not promoting "real" manhood as opposed to brow-beaten, whipped, or feminized versions of manhood. I am all for "real" manhood. I am all for my husband being strong, but that does not mean I must be weak. I love that my husband takes care of the yard, but that doesn't mean I am incapable. I love that he's the head of our family, but that doesn't make me a doormat under his feet. I am his partner. He is mine. We complement one another. We go together. We fit. His willingness to let me be his partner, to want me for his mate, to treat me as the equally intelligent and contributing member of our marriage that I am exemplify his masculinity in a million ways these foolish men will never experience.
I recently discovered a blog dedicated to "reclaiming masculinity." My first thought was, "Cool! I love my manly man and hope to raise a boy to be masculine in the most Godly sense of the word." Boy, was I disappointed! These men were not claiming Christian views of manhood, but even without the religious aspect, they are so far off-base, it's borderline silly...
Where do I begin? Well, I will limit my rants to their issues with me... For starters, women should be ashamed if they have shortly cropped hair. To sum them up, "why would anyone remove their primary symbol of feminine fertility..." Uh, well, because PERSONALLY my femininity is not reduced to the length of my hair and my fertility is completely unrelated to my scalp. I had long hair for a very long time. Some of my Chicago friends hardly recognized in pictures with longer hair. I enjoyed having long hair, for a while. I felt pretty with it, sometimes. But when I cut my hair off, I felt more feminine, beautiful, alive, confident, and well, ME than I ever did with long hair. I don't pull it back in a ponytail. I cannot hide behind it in uncomfortable circumstances. So I've almost been forced to have more confidence.
Speaking of which, they don't think a woman should be confident. Rather, she should be "fragile and vulnerable." Do these men want a china doll they can shatter if she doesn't bend to their every whim? My man LIKES having a confident woman who knows her own mind, has opinions, doesn't need to be told what to do, when to do it, what to wear, or how to think. He likes that he is not responsible for entertaining me or bossing me around. He likes that I have friends and interests I developed independently. He doesn't want someone overly clingy or needy and that requires confidence. That confidence attracted him to me initially. He knows I absolutely adore him and love being with him. But he also loves that I don't twiddle my thumbs waiting for him to come home and my life to resume.
These so-called "men" also declared that a woman's value is primarily determined by her fertility and beauty. Oh. My. Stars. I don't know if any of these males have found lifelong spouses or consider children trophies or what ideas they're rooting into a new generation. But who determines beauty? Oh yeah, it's in the eye of the beholder. Obviously, with my short hair (and I'm sure other equally undesirable physical qualities I must possess) I would not be beautiful in their eyes. But I am to my husband. And I've been told by others who have no obligation to me whatsoever that I'm not unpleasant to behold. I've seen some women who the world holds up and says, "This is beauty." Sometimes I agree. Sometimes, I think to myself, "Eh...not so much." That doesn't mean these misogynists would agree with my perspective.
As for fertility... I cannot even begin to express how much this sentiment angers me! I don't owe anyone an explanation, much less an apology, for how many children I do or do not have. I don't owe anyone information as to how many I want, why I have one, or why the Duggars have 19, (God bless them!) A woman's fertility, ability, or choice of birthing children is not what makes one a "real" or "feminine" woman. A woman's loveliness is not in the length of her hair. A woman's beauty is in her heart. I pity any man who cannot see that, for they are missing deep and remarkable treasures. Their lives are empty for lack of the warmth and wealth of a woman's tenderness and kindness and spunk and love. (I do not say that to imply life with marriage is hollow; but life without relationships (platonic or otherwise) is less rich.)
Their last little issue with me that I will address in this particular post was that "being a stay at home mother should be shamed, not celebrated. Why should she go shopping every day, spending his money while he slaves away in a cubicle?" Uh, sure. Obviously, these people have never met or held a conversation with a SAHM. My husband is the first to tell you that my job is much harder than his; that he would rather go to work than be with the boy, do the dishes, the laundry, the cleaning, the cooking, the errands all day every day. And, oh yeah, shopping with a toddler? Not all it's cracked up to be! If I go "fun" shopping, I don't take the kid. That's either "me" time or girlfriend time and that means hubby is home and wanting time with the boy. And I don't go "fun" shopping all that often. (But even when I do, I rarely buy stuff...) Have you ever tried to go grocery shopping with a three-year-old who refuses to sit in the cart, wants to "help" and grabs the wrong things, wants to hug and high-five EVERY PERSON HE ENCOUNTERS, then tries to "help" bag the groceries? Yep, that's my idea of a good time! Really?
Needless to say, these cavemen are not about recapturing masculinity. They are not promoting "real" manhood as opposed to brow-beaten, whipped, or feminized versions of manhood. I am all for "real" manhood. I am all for my husband being strong, but that does not mean I must be weak. I love that my husband takes care of the yard, but that doesn't mean I am incapable. I love that he's the head of our family, but that doesn't make me a doormat under his feet. I am his partner. He is mine. We complement one another. We go together. We fit. His willingness to let me be his partner, to want me for his mate, to treat me as the equally intelligent and contributing member of our marriage that I am exemplify his masculinity in a million ways these foolish men will never experience.
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