What’s up with our entire society holding “independence” on a pedestal as our ultimate value that proves our worth and coolness in this world?
As I lay on my blue couch, clinging to my blue blanket in my not-so-blue house, alone, my husband gone for the weekend, a sense of loneliness takes over. I notice my mind begin to turn in on itself like a crab retreats into its cell for safety.
What am I supposed to do now? I’m by myself. I thought this would be special, you know, an evening with just me, Kelly, no mother role, no wife role to fill. All my mom friends said they enjoyed it when their partner’s were gone. So, what’s wrong with me? Why am I not enjoying it?
After some shame showed itself, it wasn’t long until my restless thoughts followed.
Should I edit another chapter of my book? Should I read my book? Should I pray? Should I watch a movie? Take a bath? Go to bed so I don’t have to feel these weird emotions? Long and short of it is… I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know what I wanted to do because the “should’s” were pulling me in different directions trying to convince me that reading or editing my book made me cooler, more independent, more productive, more, more, more…
As I take another bite of my pre-made ravioli dinner, I reached out to my best friend from college and was like, “Dude I feel pathetic.” I just named it. And what I didn’t assume her response to be was that she shared the same experience when her partner left town too. “It’s 1000% normal. I usually question if I even have a life or friends when Luke’s gone.” And that’s literally what has been cycling in my head for the past two hours is exactly that; do I even have a life or friends? I thought I was independent. I thought I would enjoy this. How did I spend 24 years of my life alone at night and enjoy it so much?
Why is it that we feel like we need to be our own independent selves in order to feel valued? Why do we need to prove to ourselves and to everyone else that we “don’t need no man”? That we’re independent women. These phrases are embedded in our day to day conversations, especially on social media. And I think it isolates us.
I’m not saying being independent from your partner is bad. Not at all. You need to have skills independent from him in order to function day to day. And it’s important to keep parts of your true self that are not his. BUT, I think we need to dum down, turn down the notch on the whole “independent” thing because there are a lot of us who prefer to be with our partners then to be by ourselves. And guess what?! That’s perfectly okay.
It’s not wrong to miss your partner. It’s not wrong to feel like you don’t know what to do with yourself when he or she is gone. It’s certainly not wrong to prefer being with your partner than struttin’ yo independent ass up and down the streets of downtown.
Preferring to be with your partner than be by yourself does NOT mean that you are codependent. It does not mean I am not capable of being on my own. It does not mean you are weak and needy. I’m sick of these feminist expectations that indicate that we are only a strong woman if we’re independent. If we have our solo trips. If we have alone time with friends. If we have alone time with the baby. A job. If we have an interest we’re passionate about. If we work full-time while doing all the shopping, cleaning, and cooking. Like, fuck, yo. I feel like we have to meet all of this criteria in order to be deemed as independent in today’s culture. I don’t know about you, but checking off all of these things sound like a midlife crisis waiting to happen.
I’d say I’m a pretty strong woman, but I am dependent on my spouse. He enjoys cooking more than me anyways, thank god for that. But I mean, really guys, is relying on him for things a telltale sign I’m not a strong and capable person? Is it wrong to rather want to cuddle with him and watch a movie than watch a movie with just me, myself, and my blue blanket? NO. It means that I married the right dude is what it means.
XOXO,
KJ.