I’m what some might consider a “natural submissive.” Serving others, pleasing others – it’s all a part of my personality. I have been taken advantage of in the past because of it, but I’ve learned not to let people take me for granted anymore. That being said, sometimes I don’t want to do anything for anyone.
It’s not an uncommon feeling.
The first test of true submission is doing something when you don’t really want to do it. Midnight sex when all you want is sleep. Kneeling by the bedside when you just want to crawl under the covers. Fervently wishing the coffee could make itself and a steaming hot cup could magically appear in his hands.
I know I’m not alone in any of this. But I was still surprised when it happened to me.
Here’s the reality…
- I prepare three meals (and sometimes 2 snacks a day) every single day. That’s 35 possible meals a week.
- We have a small sink and a crappy dishwasher so I wash dishes by hand most days. Sometimes I wash dishes three times a day.
- Four people produce a lot of laundry and I haul it to the laundromat once a week. Now that schedules have changed, it’s a solitary endeavor.
- Milk, water, bread – we run out of the basics because I don’t have the storage space to keep as much as I want. I go to the grocery store a lot.
Wiping butts, helping with homework, answering questions, pouring juice, holding this, handing over that. It’s the life of someone who takes care of their family.
I love my life. I never thought I would be the type of person who didn’t mind taking care of my family in a non-monetary, wage-earning way. (Don’t get me wrong, I earn money, but Daddy is the main breadwinner.) I’m a work-at-home mom who is able to take care of my family in the way that feels most natural for me.
After a while, though, it inevitably happens. There are days I don’t want to fetch, tote, carry, prepare, or any other damn thing for anybody in this house. I just want to sit on the couch, read my book, and order take-out.
I have the best partner in the world.
When I start to stress, feel grumpy, or snap for no “apparent” reason, he asks me one question.
“What do you need from me?”
And when I can’t answer – because I don’t know – he does what he does best. He takes charge.
He makes me rest. He comes up with ideas on how to make things easier and better.
Sometimes, he orders take-out, too.