I have always been a quietly confident person. I don’t loudly acknowledge my accomplishments, I don’t strive for attention, but I’m confident. I’m content. I enjoy my own company. I like myself. I need improvement, I need fixing, and that will come in due time. I do not struggle to act my best, nor do I correct every blunder. I am the best I can be by being simply me. Every walk I have walked, every song I have sang, every decision I have decided, is mine. My actions reflect me. Allowing my true inner essence to seep through my pores as I walk and sing and decide, that makes me the best I can be. I’m happily imperfect. Then, came he…
I believe in the magnificence and power of my strength. When tested, even by the force of love, my strength still stood tall. I did not back down. I held my ground. This I believe is admirable. This I believe is attractive. This should not be shamed into hibernation. This should not be morphed into weakness. He should not attempt to mold me into his idea of a woman. I am not his woman. Nor am I anyone else’s. Why must I be a woman at all? I am me. That is my own definition. I need not give further explanation of my actions. He need not demand that of me. Why must I defend every choice? Why can’t these choices simply be accepted? I do what I do…because…I do. Reasoning beyond that is owed to him, but do not interrogate me and shove me towards doing so. Do not tell me what I cannot do. Do not assign me limitations. Do not love me with restrictions. Love me for me; love all of me, even when I break free of his rules, his boundaries, his perception of perfection. I may make mistakes; I may not always have the best judgment. But these faults are for me to face. It is my job to receive their consequences. But one of these consequences will not be taking the constant insult from him. Not anymore. I’m certainly not perfect, and I’m perfectly okay with that. I like my flaws. I do not want to be shaped into his ideal housewife, even if that causes our end.
It seems our end must is inevitable, and it always has been.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to This I Believe, Inc.