Snuggly Folks

I had a lightbulb idea as I considered that our counselor was getting ready to move out of the country.  Though there is Skype and all, it won't be the same.  There is something in the energy that is created when we're all together.  Maybe that's why I had the idea of identifying couples we can be accountable to.  Hey, if King Arthur can have his Knights of the Roundtable, why can't Suzette and Robert have couples that comprise theirs.  In wise counsel there is safety.

We want to be around married couples who actually enjoy being married and go through difficulties with grace.  One of the most painful things is being around couples who complain about each other the whole time.  The constant drip of competitiveness for who's right makes me want to gnaw off my arm!!! 

We have identified four couples who we will be inviting to a dinner in the Spring.  It's not that there aren't more whom we admire, it's the fact that we aren't around them that much.  They have lives and connections with other people.  Nothing wrong with it.  I've learned to see those who not only respond when I reach out to them, but who initiate.   Those are the ones we'll be around more regularly.  Those are the folks who'll know us!  Besides, every couple isn't a good fit for every need.  Just as there are different friends who bring something unique to my life, there are married couples who might be great to go out with but who might not be available during difficult times in my marriage.

I love warm, snuggly folks and this group is the snuggliest!!!!

A New Kind of Submission

Submission--yuck, icky, poo--is the reaction you'll get from most of us 21st century, I-can-do-it-my-own-damn-self sisters.  I can't say why other women suck their teeth and roll their eyes even at the mention of that word, but I can tell you why I use to.  "Wives submit to your husbands," is what I heard the preachers bellow out on a Sunday morning, scouring across the congregation at the women sitting in the pews while all the men yelled a hearty, "Amen!"  Some even pointed to the scripture of Eve eating the apple and bringing a curse on herself and her husband as evidence that a man knows better.  It never set well with me.  Submission was another word for parent.  You ceased to have your own mind, your own will, your own dreams.  Everything that you worked hard for, strived for, attained had to be surrendered just because, as a woman, you were suppose to submit to your man.  That definition or belief still doesn't work for me.  (Sidebar:  And if we want to get technical, God didn't curse the man or the woman, he cursed the ground, okay?)  Even my dad said of my mom that if it weren't for her, we would not have what we have.  He retaliated at first; but over the years, he came to respect my mom's insights.  I'm sure many a family can point to the courage, strength and tenacity of Big Momma or their mother in the same way. 

Nevertheless, the term submission always seems to be one sided.  Very few mention that a verse or two before it says "submit one to another."  Okay, okay, I'll come off my soap box.  I think you get my point.  Premarital counseling has surprisingly brought me to a higher understanding of what submission is.  As a result, I've come to attach a new meaning to it.  This kind of submission comes from an open heart and a willing spirit. 

My foot was down.  Down really hard when it came to my fiancé's dog.  I had my reasons for not wanting him to set foot near my house.  Ours had been a contentious relationship.  As soon as I'd get comfortable around him, something will set him off and before I knew it he was barking and snarling at me.  Completely baffled and intimidated, I lost my nerve.  To me, I'd subjected myself to threat time and time again and was being asked to do it one more time.  Not gonna happen!  Truth be told, I resented the fact that I was the one being asked to make the sacrifices while everyone else continued to live their lives the very same.  Don't all you dog lovers out there clobber me.  I'm just telling you my experience of it. 

Though I grew up with as many dogs as my dad had cars in the yard, I have no experience with any of our dogs behaving this way.  While hanging clothes on the clothesline, I hated being knocked down by our muscular police dog who was happy to see me.  I hated being scratched when our dogs wanted to play.  But I never felt threatened by any of our dogs.  We had all kinds too.  German police dog, cocker spaniel, just to name a couple.  If they growled, I never feared it was at me.  This is my first experience with a dog who licked my toes one minute and barked like I stole something the very next.

But like the Grinch, something happened to make my heart grow.  I stopped looking at me and took a deep look into my fiancé's soul.  Our counselor called  it heart versus habit.  Heart is when something is tied to who you are and if you can't do it or have it, it is wounding.  Habit is something that you've become accustomed to but can be changed.  When I truly looked at my fiancé, I saw that this attachment to his dog was a heart thing.  I don't understand it.  I probably never will.  I don't share it.  I probably never will.  Still, just as sure as breathing, this awareness came.  "You wanted someone who respects your heart.  If you love him, you'll respect his heart,"it said.  Lightbulb:  my fiancé's heart mattered too. 

Those who are in happy relationships understand this.  Those of us who have yearned for happy relationships, however, don't.  Many times, in our misguided attempts to be a good woman or showing our love, we've concessions for men who have not done the same.  We've felt taken for granted and like our needs don't matter.  This makes us have a wall up though we so deeply want to experience true love.  When you've been hurt, you make everything about you.  When you have insecurities, you make everything about you.  We say we don't but we do.  "I gave him my phone number.  He didn't call.  Inconsiderate Jerk!"  "He didn't open the car door for me.  Off with his head!"  "How dare he not do what I want.  I'm the prize!"  We sometimes forget that it takes a prize to recognize a prize.  Hence, I had to change this "habit." of making everything about me.  It wasn't all about him proving his love.  He already had.  It wasn't about me having my way.  Why should marrying me mean he's got to give up everything attached to his heart?  That's when my heart opened.

I then became willing to look at ways to make room.  I asked if he would have a problem with the dog being outside.  He said, "No."  This opened up discussion about fencing the yard so the dog could  have space to run and play.  We talked about how a sunroom off the dining room (that could also serve as his man cave..lol) could be a place for the dog when the weather is inclement.  This way, everybody would get something from this that we could all get excited about.  Maybe I could feed him (from behind the fence at first).  That way, he could associate me with something tied to his survival.  I am willing to try.  

We talked about boundaries that are necessary for my heart to be respected as well.  You see, I'm a free spirit.  Restraints and constructs kill my creativity and vitality.  My intimate connections are with family and friends and involvements flow out of that.  How can we protect that?  Also, there is the fact that I raised a son and he's left home.  I like the freedom of my empty nest.  I've grown into that freedom and found my purpose.  I don't want to feel unsafe in my home.  I don't want people to feel unsafe in my home.  I don't want folks to have to call first and say, "Suzette, I want to come over, but I'm afraid of your dog."  That would block me from what nurtures me.   

Hence, the new kind of submission.  My definition.  Submission is making room for and protecting the heart of another.  It's respecting the way another is wired.  You don't have to feel the same way about it.  You don't have to understand why.  You just have to see deeply into what matters to the  wholeness of the other person. 

My fiancé is a nurturer.  He is.  He is a tinkerer.  He takes care of.  This is who he is.  He's happiest when everyone important to him is okay.  He is a protector.  He is a place of warmth and love.  He needs all of us.  He needs his mom, his family, his dog and me.  He is autonomous in an introverted kind of way.  .  We are both the go-to for our family.  We both hate feeling boxed in or coerced.  We both know how to be okay with only ourselves to play with.  Me, with writing.  Him, with tinkering.  In many ways, we are the same, we just go about it differently.  He's quiet and methodical.  I'm animated and inspired.  To ask either of us to part with what brings us joy would be devastating.  It's what I love about him.  It's what he loves about me.  Neither of us can legislate it.  We can't control it.  This is what we can do though.  We can protect it.  We can make room for it.

To me, that is what submission truly means.