Self Discipline

Apparently, my recent trips across Adam’s lap have revived my ability to self censor my words and choices beautifully. Twice over the last week, I’ve felt that burning desire to say something disrespectful because I was frustrated and didn’t agree with his opinion on the matter. Twice, I have crept up toward crossing the line, and twice, I stopped myself before I got there.

Last night, I passionately disagreed with something. I’m vehemently against sharing personal information with anyone without a darned good reason. By “personal information”, I mean things as simple as giving PetCo my phone number. But, I also am talking about allowing any company to access my medical or financial records, etc. Our health insurance company suddenly required a crazy ridiculous amount of crap to verify our eligibility for Blue Cross. We’ve never had to provide such documents before now, and we’ve always had health coverage. They wanted our birth certificates, our children’s birth certificates, our marriage license…which I was already reluctant about until I heard good reasons for these things. Those documents prove that we are married and our children are ours. I guess I get that, but it’s strange all of the sudden to require things we’ve never been asked for before. It isn’t just us, either. Adam’s entire company asked this of every employee. After providing all of that, they then wanted a copy of our TAX RETURN. Why, pray tell? Well, according to the first representative I spoke to, it is required to show that Adam is not insuring his sister or a relative masquerading as his wife. Ok, but…. they have our marriage license. And they have our birth certificates. Our parents are not the same people. They have our kid’s birth certificates, proving their father and mother are, indeed, Adam and I. I argued these points and they then said it was to verify Adam and I live at the same address. I said, mail me a letter and I’ll mail it back to ya then! Besides all that, we’re clearly married, what difference does it truly make whether we live at the same address as each other? Which, of course, we do. It’s the principle of it all that grinds my gears so badly. They were willing to accept a joint bank statement with our names, address, and the date printed on it. I took the time to edit our statement to block access to our account number, our credits and debits, and our balance because it’s frankly, none of their damn business. Adam was perfectly willing all along to fax our health insurance providers all of the information they asked for, but I clearly wasn’t. This is where I get to report on how well I handled my disagreement, despite having such a guttural reaction to being violated so personally, for reasons that make no sense to me. I did not raise my voice. I did not curse as I explained my position on the matter. I calmly, but very seriously, laid out my reasoning and opinions. This was when Adam finally picked up the phone and called them. This is how we finally resolved the issue by turning over a bank statement with personal information blocked out, rather than our freakin’ income tax return.

I’m sure this will seem petty to some folks. I know I’m a little overboard at protecting my privacy. I won’t allow anything to be handed over without definite and clear reasons to do so. That’s just who I am. I guess I have some trust issues with the world, but can you blame me? Look at how many people are devastated because of leaked personal information! Surely, I’m not completely alone in feeling the way I do. Either way, this was our most recent disagreement, and I think I handled myself well. After we’d finished dealing with Blue Cross, Adam pulled me into his arms. For a brief moment, I was afraid he was about to give my behind some attention. Instead, he hugged me and told me he was proud of me and thanked me for not losing my cool. He might not agree with the extent at which I protect myself from prying eyes, but he understood that this was something I feel strongly about and is important to keeping me feeling safe. We worked it out. Although, I’m still super annoyed about the supposed reasoning for the request from Blue Cross, I’m fully content with my husband and we managed to stay on the same team through it all. ❤️

Who Wears Them Best?

I’m a confident, sassy, highly intelligent woman. I’ve been blessed with good looks and great hair. I’m witty as hell, decently athletic, and hard working. I could “wear the pants” in my home, and there are times when I have put those suckers on and taken over for awhile. The Bible says that part of Eve’s curse is the desire to rule over Adam and that is passed down to all women for all time. It’s a strange dichotomy I’ve got going on here. Part of me wanting to be in charge because it requires a whole lot of trust to let my husband lead. Part of me wanting to be in charge because I know I’m smart and capable too. Then, a larger part of me deeply desires to have, feel, and see my husband lead. It is hot to see him stand up for what he believes, even when that means standing up to me. It is comforting knowing that he’s here to correct me when I’m going in the wrong direction. I have a love/hate relationship with boundaries set before me. “The curse” has me wanting to break every rule, to cross every forbidden bridge. My heart appreciates those rules and understands why they’re there for me. I appreciate the dedication Adam has for keeping me safe and happy. I know that he’s always looking out for me. This isn’t a game we play when we’re both in the mood. Sometimes, I don’t feel like obeying. Sometimes, Adam probably doesn’t feel like leading. On occasion, we shirk those responsibilities we’ve promised each other. I refuse to go where Adam wants me to, or Adam refuses to decide which way to go. Those things happen. We’re flawed humans, after all.

Having said all of that, there is a way to get back on track, and it works like a charm! Ready for it??

Look for my next blog post and I’ll share our secret 😉

Practical submission

What does submission really look like? Have you ever been stopped by the police? Maybe you were going too fast. Maybe you had a taillight out. When you see those lights flip on in your rear view mirror, you know exactly what you’re supposed to do next. You find a place to safely pull over and you fumble through the glovebox for your insurance and registration. The first question every officer asks is “Do you know why I pulled you over?” Now, there is always a dilemma going on in my mind when I’m asked that question. Do I admit I knew I was speeding? Do I feign surprise when he tells me I’ve got a tail light out that I’ve actually known about for months?

I was once pulled over when I was 16 years old for running a stop sign. Thing was, it wasn’t me. I had a cousin who looks more like my twin who also happened to drive a car very similar to mine, same in color, and with the same style license plate. We were both driving in the same town around the same block at the same time. When the officer told me he’d seen me run the stop sign, I was frustrated because I knew that I had not done that! I tried to argue that it was not me who’d done that, but the officer was having none of it. I realized quickly I wasn’t going to win this argument and if I didn’t shut my mouth, it was only going to get worse for me. He gave me a verbal warning and let me go.

Things like that happen in marriage sometimes too. Adam will come to me with “Do you know why I’m upset with you?” I have to quickly decide how I’m going to answer that question. How much does he actually know? Is he talking about what happened yesterday, or does he know about that other thing? Sometimes, I’m genuinely not sure what I’ve done. Occasionally, I completely disagree that what I’ve done was in any way wrong. Rarely, but it happens, I didn’t do what he’s accusing me of. I have choices to make in every situation like these. I can get angry and defensive. I can cry and plead. I can play dumb about it. Or, I can humble myself and listen carefully to what he’s saying whether or not I agree with him. Adam is always willing to listen to my side of the story. He gives me the benefit of doubt much more often than not. He’s never cruel. We do not always agree, though.

Submission does not mean I can’t give my opinions. It doesn’t mean I can’t disagree. Submission is pulling over when you see those red and blue lights flashing behind you. There’s a right way to disagree. If you choose to argue your case, you can go to court and do so, respectfully. If you get belligerent and angry at the officer, it’s not going to end well. That officer has the authority to put you in handcuffs and throw you in jail if you decide to escalate the situation. In the same way, my husband has the authority to discipline me if I refuse to cooperate respectfully. I can still be in submission and argue my case if I just do it in the right way.

It isn’t always easy to submit. It can get ugly real fast if I get indignant and uncooperative because I know I’m right and he’s wrong. Submission is something we all do everyday. We submit to the laws and the people who uphold them. We submit to our bosses. Submission is not something only weak or mindless people can do. I think it takes strength to submit. It takes humility to admit when you’re wrong. It also takes integrity and good character to be worthy of submission. A tyrant can force others to physically submit to their will, but only those who have earned trust and respect are worthy of true submission of the heart, mind, and body.

God + marriage = good sex?

For all of you believers and the secularists out there, I was recently asked about my own faith and how I reconcile that with my insatiable appetite for all things sexy. Everyone who knows Adam and I, know that we enjoy each other’s bodies daily, sometimes multiple times in a day. We have a marriage that those around us repeatedly tell us they envy. My single girlfriends say they want to find their own “Adam”. After more than a decade together, we are still in love and can’t keep our hands off one another. We bicker sometimes, occasionally really piss each other off, but no matter what, we never even think about ending our relationship. Divorce is NOT an option. We pray before meals, attend church, and are open about our faith. And then we go to bed and f#(k each other’s brains out. We have a drawer full of toys and flavored lube. We regularly experiment with new places and positions. We have never brought anyone else into our bed and we are 100% faithful to each other. Besides that, I can’t think of anything we haven’t or wouldn’t try.

I had only one other sexual partner before my husband. He didn’t treat me very well at all. He was selfish and used me like a plaything for his own pleasure without considering or caring for mine. Needless to say, I didn’t particularly enjoy or look forward to sex when I first met Adam. It was just something I did to keep my man interested and happy. Adam showed me a completely new version of sex like I’d never known was possible. He took care to make certain that I was enjoying it. He was cautious about doing anything that might hurt me, unless I specifically asked him for it. Adam had a whole lot more experience than I did with the opposite sex. I almost refused to date him when I found that out because I wasn’t sure I could trust a man to be faithful who had been around the block so many times. I’m so glad I took that risk anyway! Adam has never cheated. I don’t believe he would ever hurt me like that either.

Neither of us had a relationship with God before we got together. Personally, I’d never doubted His existence, but I used to say I just wasn’t ready to be that good yet. Christians are so boring. I’ve learned that’s not the case at all. God is actually pretty kinky! Ever read Song of Solomon?! Of course, the stipulation was marriage and commitment. God wants us to have as much kinky sex as we desire, within the confines of marriage. I happen to be married, so as a Christian, I don’t have to feel guilty about sex. I’m absolutely not judging anyone who isn’t married and enjoys sex. I’ve been there. Adam’s been there, many many times. I’m only trying to explain how my own faith can work with TTWD (This Thing We Do). I believe God intends for a husband to be in authority over his wife. I believe husbands are to love their wife as Christ loves the church, so like, A LOT). I try to live in submission because I believe it’s what we’re told to do, but also because it’s what I deeply desire to do. I feel safe, cherished, protected, loved, wanted, needed, adored when I give Adam the gift of my submission. Is it always easy for me? NO! (Read my blog post immediately ahead of this one lol). I falter, stumble, fail, but that’s where Adam comes in. I want him, need him to love me enough to discipline me. I crave the emotional release I get when the guilt and shame of my destructive behavior are washed clean by my husband’s loving hand.

Is all this biblical or “Christian” of us? I think so. We’re not perfect examples of Christians. Not even close. But, I do not believe for a second that what we do in our relationship with each other is wrong or goes against Christ teachings. I’m sure there are plenty of bible thumping, fire and brimstone believers who’d have lots to say about why I’m wrong. I couldn’t care less what they think, though. I care what God thinks. I care what my husband thinks. Nobody else’s opinions matter much to me.

Feminine-ism

I call myself a femininitist. That’s not a misspelling of feminist. As I’ve said before, I’m all about equal rights for men and women. I believe we should all have the ability to make choices for ourselves about what we want to do with our lives. I do not, however, believe that women need to become men to achieve equality of the sexes. Too many people seem to equate being equal to mean “the same”. Men and women are not the same, and that’s okay! We have equal value as a person. We have equal rights. We have more similarities than differences, really. Personally, I love men and masculinity. I’m not talking about the guy who can bench press 800 pounds, degrades others, picks fights, and treats women like objects to be used and abused. I mean real, healthy, sexy, masculinity. A man who knows he can take care of business. A man who can and will do whatever it takes to protect others, but also has self control and doesn’t have to be a dick to get control of a situation. I’ve seen Adam deescalate plenty of almost fights. If a man hurt me or threatened me, I have no doubt Adam would knock him to the ground if he had to, but I love the quiet strength he exudes. Violence isn’t the go to option. It’s a last resort. If it’s necessary, he will absolutely put himself in harms way to protect those he cares about. The word masculinity has gotten a bad rep and that seriously bothers me. People are lumping all men together as if they’re all violent, sexist, heartless unless they denounce their manhood in favor of more feminine behaviors and attitudes. You need to be more like women, men and boys are being told.

On the flip side, girls and women are being taught that we need to act like men. Fight the patriarchy! Resist any man who tries to pay for your dinner, open your door for you, offers to help lift something heavy…Any sign of masculinity from a man is shunned. If a woman gets loud, bossy, threatens to punch your lights out, objectifies men, treats them as second class, that’s not only encouraged, it’s celebrated! We seem to be taking these stereotypes of truly toxic behavior generalized as masculinity and trying to emulate those characteristics as women. These are not desirable traits in a man or a woman.

If we could just embrace our own feminine powers and realize that we can do so much more to achieve success in our lives if we accept and use our uniquely feminine attributes and abilities, we could do anything! Men want to make us happy. I read about this type of bird who will work and work to build the most beautiful nest to attract his mate. He finds shiny pieces of foil and string to decorate the nest with. If, after some time has passed, no mate has shown interest in his nest, he will tear it down and start all over. Ladies, men are so much like those birds. They want to please us! Understand and use their desire to make us happy instead of insulting and degrading them for it. Masculine and feminine are ying and yang. We work beautifully together. I call myself a femininitist because I love femininity. I can’t open the pickle jar, lift that heavy box, or pee standing up, but I can grow our beautiful babies in my belly and then feed them with my own body. I beat my husband at scrabble every single time. Adam asks me for help writing a paper because he knows I’m a spelling and grammar queen. He brings home the bacon, I fry it up. Of course, this is not the way all men and women would like to live out their marriage, and that’s okay too. As for me though, I’m a femininitist.