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Sunday Confessions: Men . . . THANK YOU (39/60)





I found this tiny tiny picture of my father last week when I was cleaning out my parents house.  I love how it captures my father.  He is utterly filled with happiness and mischievousness, my father to a T.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about men.  I know, they're not really in vogue right now, and there is a good reason for that.  They've gotten a lot of bad press.  And most of it is well deserved.  I myself have seen my fair share of men not acting their best and I feel deeply sorry for anyone who has to deal with that day in and day out.  I am more sorry than I can say.  Especially because I know how men can be when they are at their best.  

And that's what I've been thinking about.  How my life has been a pattern of men around me behaving well.  I was never afraid growing up or as a teenager.  I knew that at my back were my father and three brothers (and that's not counting my Uncle or cousins).  I was born into a family of men who cared for their women.  I think I am only now coming to understand how lucky I was.  I thought everyone only had to mention to their uncle that the new light installed at the Sand and Gravel Pits (I lived in the country) down the road was shinning right into my bedroom and disturbing my sleep and that light was moved.  Literally that night.

I had this older man following me once, and when I clued in (probably dangerously close to something bad happening) and told my father, he literally stopped what he was doing, turned to me and said, Repeat that slowly, tell me everything.  What is happening?  I told him in detail and he said, I will take care of that.  He won't be bothering you anymore.

And that man never did bother me again.  Ever.  

I never really went anywhere without my brother and one or other of my boy cousins for most of my life.  When they left me for college, I seem to collect boy friends (they were truly friends) who stood in their place.  Often standing in front of me saying, Mary, don't go there.  That's not a safe place. 

I remember working one summer in a factory and at a pub waiting and all the boys at both places, they'd literally circle around me and tell me where I should and should not go and often one of them would follow me out if they were worried about me.  

John, growing up here in Utah couldn't really imagine men treating women poorly.  His father, both his grandfathers, all his uncles and cousins and friends and their fathers, all were respectful and gracious to women.  Women were treasured.  He could not imagine a world were they were treated poorly or lewdly.  He knows differently now.  And is ashamed and angered by how men have abused their powers.  He is a staunch defender of all women.

When we first dated and married, he thought of my brothers and father as a bit over protective and archaic.  He told me, Don't worry Mary, I won't treat you like that.  I'll let you do your own thing and be your own self.  

It turns out, bless his heart, that meant I could open my own doors and take out the trash and mow the lawn and shovel the walks and jump start cars and do everything a man can do.

And I can.

And I did.

And I in many ways I am proud of how independent I am.

And in others, I found that I became very tired of doing so much stuff. . . 

I found that I missed being cherished.  I missed being taken care of.  I missed my doors being opened.  I missed feeling like I could tell someone what my problem was and it would be fixed.  But I felt like admitting this would make me less of an independent strong woman.  So I didn't say anything.

I think it was about twelve years ago when I was seven months pregnant, shoveling the walks in the two feet of snow in Calgary (it was -15 degrees fahrenheit) and I pulled some stomach muscles.  I came in crying, freezing, and frustrated.  I realized in that moment, what John had thought was helping me be more independent and awesome was actually turning into me do EVERYTHING.  I was both the man and the woman.  I was making all the food AND doing garbage duty and everything else. (Now, granted a lot of this happened because he traveled for his job and was gone a lot.  I think this often naturally happens.  And when he came home I forgot to mention it and ask for help because he'd just be gone again . . . and I was a strong independent woman!  I could do this . . . .) 

When my brother in law came to visit, he saw what I was doing and he looked at me and said, Stop, Mary.  I've got this.  And he took care of the car, the snowy walk and the five other things that needed fixing.  I cried myself to sleep that night.  For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breath.

When John came home from his trip, I told him that things needed to change.  I was done with being this super woman.  I was done being and doing everything because . . . I couldn't.  It was literally impossible for me to do these things.  I needed help.  Somewhere along the lines I had stopped asking for help because I wanted to seem stronger and more independent than I was.  And also, I needed to be pretty independent when John was gone so often.  He'd tell me, You can do this.  This job shouldn't be a man job or a woman job, it's just a job that needs to be done.

Agreed.  I agreed with him and tried hard to do all the jobs . . . 

But it turns out that I couldn't do ALL the jobs.  

I don't think he ever meant to, in fact, I know he didn't because once we talked about it, he was a little bit horrified at what had happened.  I felt like if I didn't become this independent woman, I was a little bit of a failure.  There was no out.  If I complained then I wasn't a strong independent woman.  I was letting all the women in the universe down.  Didn't I want to show the world that I could do just as much as a man?  That I didn't have to wait for a man to fix things?  That I could get in and out of the car whenever I wanted?  That I could do everything just as well as John?

Blah.

All of this is true.  But it's also a big fat lie. We women aren't men.  And I don't think any of us want to be a man.  We are happy being a women.  We are strong and wise and brave and can do almost anything but sometimes . . . we need help.  Sometimes, we just want to be told, I'll take care of that.  And it actually gets taken care of.  We want to go to sleep Thursday night and know that the garbage will be taken out after we've spent a week gathering it. 

One of the best TED talks I heard about strong independent women talked about how important it is that we as strong women make our partners, TRUE PARTNERS.  Divide the work so that none of it is too heavy for us to carry. 

I think it's easy for us to forget to ask for help.  John will often tell me, Stop being the martyr. ASK for help!  And I am learning to do that.  It's hard fro me.  I am independent.  I have learned from years of being on my own as he traveled, to do many things myself (and I'm proud of that), but I can't do everything.  And in asking for help, I see the very best in John and in fact, all men come to the surface.    

John understands now (and maybe he always did . . . and I was just too silly to notice) that being a man who takes care of his wife and daughters and sisters and sister-in-laws and nieces and neighbors and friends isn't making these women weak.  Instead, he understands that by helping by taking the outside of the group while we run keeps them safe, opening doors, mowing lawns, taking out garbage, carrying heavy bags, doing the dishes, fixing things, cleaning drains, and listening and taking care of problems for the women in his life, he is empowering them.  He is making them strong.  He is enabling them to be more and better in every way.

This is what my brothers and friends understood.  This is what I hope my sons understand and my daughters expect.  It is not weak to need help and protection.  It is strength.  Those who have more power and strength should always shelter and protect those who don't.  And women of all ages should have strong men at their backs who they can turn to for help and find it ready and willing.

Men, be those men.  Be ready to offer help at any time.  Be aware of what is going on around you and be willing to defend women.  Be willing to be the man who behaves WELL.  Be the protectors.  Be the strong ones.  Help the women of the world feel safe and cherished.

Thank you to all the men in my life (there are so many) who are just like this.  You have made my life so good, so safe, so secure and so rich.  Without you, I couldn't be me.  Thank you.




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