SUB-MISSION

Lesson 2: submission is a sign of strength and not the omission of it.

‘Name me one organisation that doesn’t have a hierarchy’.

Those words sunk right into my mind like coffee to my sleep deprived soul.  They were so profound, so deep, made so much sense. That was the phrase, those were the words, right there was the imagery, that completely summed up what I had struggled all week to write.  Bunmi Olabode’s blog radio show had just injected fuel into my blog entry on submission.

I am part of the Spice Girls ‘Girl Power’, Destiny Child’s ‘Independent Woman’, TLC ‘No Scrubs’, generation.  Further enhanced by my background of incredibly strong and knowledgeable women, for many men I’d be way too much to handle.  I know my mind and can communicate it with little effort.  Problem is, my Jagged Edge ‘Let’s Get Married’ kind of guy had found me and in order to keep him ‘Miss I – dependent’ had to die. And die she did, a most brutal death.  One where she realised that her way was not the highway, the motorway or the freeway. It was a way and it could or could not be taken.

This ‘submission’ has been a journey for me and I don’t think I’ve quite reached the destination of unreserved submission. I’ve been travelling there for 5 years now and I’ve encountered conflict bumps in the roads and question filled roundabouts; wanting to move forwards but seemingly endlessly disagreeing with my beloved on which road to take there.

My beloved often says that no one is born a readymade wife.  And it’s so true! When asked what your lifetime ambition is, how many braided haired little girls do you know would cutely answer ‘a submissive wife with a calm, gentle and quiet spirit’.  Fast forward to today, change the braids to three bundles of your finest Brazilian/Peruvian/Malaysian/Cambodian/not-your-hairian hair and ask if their lifetime ambition is to be sincerely submissive.

In this generation the word submission is a swear word. The carefully drawn brows of millions of women arch up in pure rage.  They are angered at the notion of being thought of as weak and less important.  It conjures up images of women who are subservient, ‘yes sir, yes sir, two bags full’ kind of women. Weak women. Women who are so very afraid of speaking their minds that they are willing to look like clowns to please their beloveds.  Women who sheepishly walk behind their beloveds with their heads bowed, relinquishing their own identity.

But, I say that submission is not losing who you are. It is this misconception that has pushed anything that resembles submission out of the wedding vows.  When was the last time you witnessed a bride gleefully vow to love and obey their groom? Last I heard them they were spoken through slightly gritted, slightly smiling teeth.   And why is this?

Fear.

Fear that agreeing to submit would mean that you would lose who you are.  Husbands and wives worldwide have abused the word submission, turning it into a curse rather than a blessing.   It is no wonder that submission has this vile reputation, when there are women who prior to marriage are vibrant and full of life and then they sadly transform into a shadow of themselves.  The men they fell in love with deem it fit to squeeze out every drop of life they have, controlling their every move.  This is a form of abuse and it should not be tolerated. This is not submission.

Not only is there the fear of losing your identity, there is also the complex fear of things going wrong, of negative consequences, of missed opportunities, of failure.  I’ve learned that even my best worked out and most strategic plans also have a risk (no matter how small) of the same disastrous outcomes.  On the reflection I think this fear has a lot to do with pride, the ‘I know better’ syndrome that plagues us all at some point in time. 

For me, submission is very simple… 

There can only be one driver of a car, one captain of a ship, one cook to stir the pot.  Like the guest on the radio show said, every successful business has a leader.  We aren’t both leaders but we both have functions, a leader isn’t a leader without a highly effective ‘follower’.  This does not mean that I do not offer suggestions or that I agree wholeheartedly agree with everything that my beloved decides.  God helps me with that.  I feel that in those moments, I need to refer back to the manual and manufacturer – the bible and God.  I cannot expect my beloved to selflessly, undyingly, undoubtedly, love me the way Christ loves the church, if I am not willing to play my part.  If I’m willing to bite my tongue when I know I have every right to speak or not to force my opinion when I know that I am right, I hope that I will enjoy a much happier and fulfilled marriage.

I was reminded this week of what a dear friend told me; it takes a while for you to build up credibility. Truth be told, your beloved has been the way he is for longer than he has known you. If you had two employees and you’d known one for 20+ years and another for 5 years, whose word are you likely to believe more?

Today, being a submissive wife today is not fashionable, it is not vogue and certainly isn’t worth it. I believe we need to revive the submissive wife. Don your submission like the vintage dress you’ve been craving to showcase.  It’s your strength and not the hand-me downs or ugly cast offs from your big sis.  I am willing to play my part to achieve the overall goal.  I am backing the mission of our family; I am forcing my opinions to be of less importance than the overall mission.  Me and all my self-glorified, self-appointed expert opinions, is sub (under, beneath) the overall mission of the family.    

 

Miss Independent, the obituary.

‘Miss Independent was laid to rest on 4th October 2008. She was a woman who sought no permission prior to making any decisions, beautifully driven and centred on carving her name into the pages of this life. She didn’t want to lose her life but knew that in order for her to live a better; she’d have to lay this one down.’
I come from a line of incredibly strong independent women; women whose backbone shatters the tenacity of the acrylic nails our generation adorn themselves with. Naturally, I have become a product of what I have seen; fiercely ambitious, aggressively focused and determined to often the point of stubbornness. I am surrounded by women who have refused to see the absence of a man (husband or father) as a handicap, excuse or limitation but who have used it as motivation instead. But this incredible strength that I so greatly admire has become a double edged sword. It has gradually formed the backdrop of my worst nightmare. For as many strong women I have seen, I have seen the men around them slowly shrinking to ‘yes’ men. These are men who have retreated to their wives shadows, whose ambitions have been ignored. Their opinions are the last their wives consult, their thoughts and feelings totally irrelevant to their beloved. I would hate for my husband to fall into this category, to hear whispers of ‘how does he cope with her?’ after I leave a room. I have all this in the forefront of my mind. I know that I am not supposed to wear the trousers in my marriage yet; there is a constant internal struggle with the spirit of independence. It’s like a drug that my mind has been hooked on and marriage is the process that is weaning me off it and onto co-dependency. It’s almost as if some issues in our marriage that came to light were a demonstration of my independence withdrawal symptoms.

It’s not easy making the transition from making decisions independently to co-dependently, especially when you have been in the driving seat for your whole life. Having to share your plans, dreams, ideas and decisions with someone else, can be challenging. It’s as though you acquire a back seat driver overnight, who you are happy to have as company but not as the navigator. Your plans, dreams, ideas and decisions can be quite personal and sharing them can make you feel extremely vulnerable. The fear of rejection plays on your mind and when you should open up, you close yourself down. There have been many times during our marriage when I would embark on projects without informing my hubby or asking for his opinion. I understand now, that this is wrong and if care is not taken we could very easily become intimate strangers. I don’t want us to be in a position where my colleagues at work and friends know more about my life than my beloved. I had formed a selfish habit and fear of rejection had totally consumed me. Alarm bells rang clearly when the sentence ‘you didn’t tell me that’ became my hubby’s mantra. Please understand that it is not that I need his permission to do anything, I am not under an oppressive regime as I live in a co-dependency state. I share my dreams and plans with my beloved because I respect him and want him to be part of them.

Submission in this day and age is a swear word, a phenomena. So much so that during wedding vows brides have said the words ‘obey’ and ‘submit’ through clenched teeth. I don’t blame them; they are merely a product of the environment they live in. It’s just a shame that we choose to see submission as an infringement of our human rights rather than a blessing. I understood the theory of submission sometime ago but the practical realisation of it eluded me until now. In theory it seems an unfair advantage to submit to another. If we look at it logically (yes, Miss Sometimes Emotional is daring to be logical), to submit can mean that you are willingly allow someone else to lead you and have absolute responsibility for the consequences of their actions. I know it is not always that easy or straightforward but surely there is a blessing in that. Miss Independent enjoyed having responsibility but sometimes felt weighed down with the number of decisions that needed to be made and things that needed to be done. Surely in a life where co-dependency and submission exists, there would be another set of capable shoulders to place responsibility onto.

This drought of submissive wives is not helped when we have seen the definition of submission distorted over time, its meaning has been abused and stretched. Submission in marriage is not simply ‘do what I say’. True submission is when a woman makes the choice to fulfil what her husband has asked or desired, above her own thoughts and opinions. It is a conscious decision and not the passive door mat mentally, some would lead us to think it is. It’s like when my hubby wants to watch an hour long documentary on the habitat of ‘South American Spotted Owl’ and I want to watch re runs of ‘Dragons Den’. I could argue that watching the daily activities of the spotted owl is not going to help me build my empire or just simply hand over the remote control. (Don’t let my hubby know but more often than not I do gain from the programmes, even if it just to be in wonder of the awesomeness of nature.) Some may see this as a trivial problem but it’s the small things that can build animosity. All of a sudden, my not allowing him to watch the owl picking up sticks in the Amazon can become ‘you always have to have things your way’. It can gradually build up a mindset in him that will be disruptive and ruin the balance of our marriage. That is not to say that we are permanently watching the discovery channel as, he also has a responsibility to not to abuse my gift of submission and demonstrate love (as that would be absolute punishment for me)! The test of real submission is not when you are not bothered with the outcome of an issue; it is when you have a real opinion concerning the outcome. Your ability to submit is proved when you believe wholeheartedly in your decision or opinion, when you are convinced that you are correct. If in those times you can submit, then you are truly exemplifying the character of the kind of co-dependency that exists in a wife of old.

There may be some women who read this that are raging, annoyed that I have abandoned the Destiny Childs ‘I bought it’ attitude. The truth is, I have many dreams and I have not put them on hold. I am only changing my focus. It’s time that I am just as driven and focused on his dreams as my own. It is not say that I won’t achieve them, I will. I just want my husband my side rather than in my shadows. It’s time that as Mary J Blige put ‘Share my world’. RIP Miss Independent, we had good times while they lasted.

‘As Miss Independent was lowered to the ground, a wife arose.’