The Fight

He says I want to have my cake and eat it too. He is right I do. I would like to be able to have an opinion, even if it differs. I would like to be able to express it, and then still have a fun night afterwards. So, does he mean that I want to have a husband, but have an opinion as well? Yes, I do want to have that cake and eat it too.

He is drunk on power (and on beer). He is defensive of women’s rights and has been for years. On the one hand, he says that he agrees women should have fifty percent of the power, but on the other, he affirms that there are casualties from both sides, and that men’s lives are being ripped out under them. He says he feels defensive about my thoughts, that women may be better stewards of the earth, that it makes him feel like a less evolved human. Perhaps, I was aggressive in my enthusiastic “you guys are out – we are in”. It was meant to be funny, but it didn’t land.

My argument is two-pronged. First, we know that current plan is not working. The evidence is in. We know that if we continue on our current trajectory, we will destroy this planet. This model was both concocted and orchestrated by men. So, let’s try something new (in at least half of those decision-making positions). Second, studies have shown, that the only intrinsic biological differences between men and women are the very traits that more easily allow women to include the environment and all earth beings in our systems analysis. We test higher in empathy and tender mindedness. The earth needs women to take more of a stewardship role.

This is not a popular opinion in my house, not very conducive to a regular sex life, or just general well-being. I feel as though he is punishing me for my opinion. Is this how I am kept subjugated? By my love for my husband, and the peace of my family? Is this how it has continued for generations?

After our conversation, I want to shelf it. I know it is sensitive, so I want to move on. I come downstairs and ask if he and still wants to pick our Olympic teams. (We have this super fun tradition of drafting teams. The winner gets an hour massage). Instead he tells me, he isn’t feeling it anymore. I ask if maybe tomorrow night? He says he doesn’t know. He says (referring to me) that I want to have my cake and eat it too. He says that he is not mad (ahem) but that he just doesn’t feel like doing our draft anymore and would like me to leave him alone.

He wants to punish me for my insubordination. He will remain angry at me for days. I love him, but right now I am so very mad at him.

He sleeps on the couch. He can’t even stand to be beside me. He can’t stand my inherent worth, because his fragile ego feels inferior because of it. Never mind that he is much better than I am at many things. And, never mind, that most certainly, many men would earn their top positions on merits alone. No one is saying otherwise.

Discrimination against women is real. I do not think our children, and especially our girls, should see us cow to our husbands anymore. We can’t keep dumbing ourselves down so that they can feel like superior, like men.

He told me he thinks a lot of women think they need a man in power, and that is why women still vote for men presidents and prime ministers. He may be right, on that one. Not this woman though.

This woman is pissed. Even the word wo-man annoys me right now.

The next morning, I get up early. He has already left for work. I get a coffee. I turn on my computer. I peek my head out the door and see he has left a suspicious package on our doorstep, wrapped in brown paper. I open it gingerly. I recoil in revolt. He has left me a steaming pile of his crap, both literally and figuratively.