“Likewise, you husbands, live considerately with your wives, giving honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they too are also heirs of the grace of life, so that your prayers will not be hindered.” 1 Peter 3:7
One of the many, MANY questions I pebble my lover with constantly is “Proud of me?” And although I’m certain the answer is yes, I NEED to hear him say it. His support and his admiration are beyond important to me. I know most believe that I do not care an iota about a man’s opinion being the aggressive feminist that I am, but they have been sorely misinformed. I don’t base the decisions I make on how a man feels about them. Men don’t like women who wear weave. I care? Guys don’t like when you’re outspoken? Ha. Boy bye. I live my life for me, but with the man that covers me, I care very much about how he perceives me.
We women wear our independence like armor. We trick ourselves into believing our accomplishments are all we need at night. We put on a brave face during the day as we reap the benefits our multiple degrees give us, but when we shut our door at night and all we have waiting for us is a glass of wine and a bowl of popcorn, well…
I wonder at what point we decided to pretend as if a man’s opinion did not matter to us. Was it women’s liberation? Or is it due to some men nowadays equating appreciation as doing nothing more than cunnilingus? What came first: our pretense of nonchalance due to past disappointments or man’s obliviousness to what we really need?
The first time I heard “Cater 2 U” by Destiny’s Child, I’m pretty sure my scoff was heard in Guam. At one point, Kelly Rowland sings the line, “I’m here to serve you.” I’m sorry, what? Who? HA! That was truly my honest response. At that point in my life, I had yet to meet a man I felt deserving of that. I doubted there was a man in existence that was. He should be catering to me. And if he didn’t, it made no difference. I catered to myself.
Independent and selfish and sleeping alone every night. Those were are the times! (/sarcasm) I was so self-involved. No one could’ve possibly loved me more than I loved myself, which was a good thing because no one did. That was then. Today, my man is a priority. His happiness is what I need to be certain of every day. What he needs, I’m going to give it to him. If he needs catering, see me in my French maid outfit. If what I did yesterday satisfied him, I don’t rest. I give extra the next day.
And why I am willing to do this? It’s because he supports me. He’s proud of me. He tells me and he shows me. And that gives me strength. At my bad days at work, he’s willing to tear down my building brick by brick to rescue me. Every new article, every small victory at work, every spider I dare to kill, he’s there with arms wide telling me how proud he is. When I walk out the conference room after having led a successful meeting, I picture him in my office with a huge smile on his face. He’s my personal hype man.
It’s in his eyes: staring at me with appreciation and awe.
It’s in his touch: grabbing me like I’m a possession he refuses to have snatched away.
It’s in his kiss: indulging every taste of me as if it could be his last.
It’s in his words: telling the whole world to whom I belong.
Songs of Solomon 4:7 (MEV) reads, “You are altogether fair, my love; there is no flaw in you.”
I was having a conversation with a potential a few days ago, and the conversation became about my trying marijuana. I was adamant that I had no further interest in the drug, and he tried to convince me why I should. It was an immediate turn-off because I felt I couldn’t trust him with my well-being. Maybe I was being judgmental, but a man who will put another shot in your hand when you’re already inebriated or attempt to pressure you into partaking of an illegal substance isn’t a man I want to make proud.
Neither my accomplishments nor my decisions are intended to impress any man. They are for me. Because they are things I chose to pursue. It’s knowing his love and his admiration are behind me that adds to my strength to seek my goals. And knowing that he’ll be right there as proud of my failures as he is of my successes that aids my courage to try. It’s knowing that when he sees me, he’s thinking, “She’s mine.” It’s when he continues to love my pieces when I’m broken. That man? That man is whose honor I seek.
Today’s Soundtrack – Usher’s There Goes My Baby “Loving you feels better than
everything, anything/ Put on my heart you don’t need a ring”