When I
was in eighth grade, my history teacher once told the entire class “Stephanie,
the day you are married I am going to come to your wedding and when the
preacher asks who objects I am going to say ‘I object! I object! No
one should ever ever marry this woman. She is impossible to deal with.”
The
first time I had a boyfriend, I can remember discussing the news with a girl in
choir. The girl was shocked that I was dating someone and I remember her
saying “What? You have a boyfriend? But you are so independent.”
Once at
dinner my mother and two brothers took a vote on who would be the last to get
married. Everyone unanimously voted that I would be the last to get
married because “Stephanie is the most independent. She just doesn't need
anyone.”
My
entire life is spattered with little stories about being telling me I was
independent. Although some of the stories were funny or sweet, a few
pointed to the dangers of always acting alone. We are a country that
praises ourselves on being independent. We are told to free ourselves
from being oppressed. Heck, we even give the entire nation a day off from
work to celebrate being free from control. As I have learned along the
way, being independence is not without its flaws.
I was decorating
for a sorority dance in college with a sweet friend named Cassi. Cassi
had this idea to decorate the room, and being the independent leader I am…. I
quickly told her the idea was dumb. However “I let her” decorate the room
how she wanted, telling her every step of the way that I thought her idea was
dumb. When we were finished decorating it was quite easily the best
decorating I have been a part of. Cassi’s idea was amazing, and I was
wrong. I was twenty one years old the first time I realized that my ideas
were not always the best.
When I
was about twenty five I taught a college class where we had to do a week-end
camping trip. As part of the trip, an upper classmate led my class of
fifteen young adults for the entire week-end. This was the first time in
my life where I could have led, but was told not to. Instead of leading,
I laid back and watched Claire (the older student) take the lead. By
Saturday I was totally relaxed. By Sunday morning I realized that Claire
did a better job leading then I would have – or perhaps ever could. I was
twenty five the first time I realized that I don’t have to lead everything, and
that some people do a better job leading then I could.
This
morning my husband and I were getting ready for work. Everything was
going fine until he turned on the shower, and thereby increased the odds of
humidity ruining my perfectly coiffed. I lost it. I walked away and
started lecturing him on humidity and what it does to female hair. I
started doing my hair in another room and completely stopped talking to him.
Rather than getting mad at me for being totally irrational, my husband said to
me “I love you. How can I help you?” I started crying. Then he added “If you are having a problem I
want to help. Your problems are my
problems.” I started crying again.
I was
twenty seven years old before I realized that I am no longer independent.
I have my own thoughts and friends and activities. However, for the rest
of my life, nothing I do will ever exist in a vacuum. When I was single I
could get ready however I wanted and no one would care. When I was a dumb
sorority girl I could blather on about how a room should be decorated (as if it
actually mattered). When I was in eighth grade I could argue with
teachers about anything I wanted, and it didn't matter. But I am married
now. I am forever tied to this other amazing person.
My
husband and I are reading a marriage book together. The book equates the
beginning of marriage to a masquerade ball. When you are first dating and
married you have a mask on and everything looks lovely. As time passes,
eventually the mask comes off and you fully see the person you have been
dancing with. When you are single you can hide your flaws. Your
flaws never come out because you can dance all day then go home at night.
When you are married, every flaw that you were able to hide is suddenly slammed
full force into your spouse. You can no longer hide the things you tucked
away, because the person you are with can see them quite easily.
It is
true that my independence gene has driven me to many successes. I got a
Master’s degree fairly young, I got to be president and vice president of stuff
in college, and I got to lead some amazing things. If I was listening
closely I might have seen the dangers of my fierce independence. I might
have seen how in forces people away, insults people and makes some people feel
little. If I was listening closely I might have seen how it forces you to
never ask for help, to lay in corners alone, and feel like no one is there to
support you.
My
eighth grade teacher never made it to my wedding, but my husband saw glimmers
of my fierce independence before we got married. Thankfully, while God
gave me the gift of independence, he gave my husband the gift of collaboration.
While I could lead fifty people up a mountain, my husband would be the one
holding them all together – cradling them as they struggle.
So here
we sit... one cranky little independent girl and one sweet helpful boy.
We have danced our way to this struggle, and now we have no choice but to
tackle it head on. I have no clue what will happen next or where this
will go…. But I am okay with my husband leading me. I am okay with my
husband helping me. I am no longer the most independent girl you will
ever meet, because I found someone I really truly need.
No comments:
Post a Comment