I am very particular in how I do most things. I have very strong feeling about (not towards) a more than healthy amount of inanimate objects, for which I blame my 5 year old self and my love of Beauty and the Beast. I hate sleeping with the open ends of the pillow cases towards the middle of the bed. I will re-fold clothes if I don't like how someone else did them, and I have plates and cups that I like WAY more than other ones. Over the last year and a half or so, Joe, my boyfriend, (for the sake of brevity) has been seeing these many habits that I have, and for the most part, has adapted around them. Joe usually makes sure that the spoon I like is clean and he eats off the ones with the stupid giant handles. He knows that I like to drink wine out of the curved top wine glass more than I like it out of the glass that looks like its top was cut off, that everything else tastes better out of my princess mug that his mother sent me, and that although I feel an unnecessary amount of guilt about it, I like the brand name saltine crackers in my chicken noodle soup so much more than the store brand crackers, and he keeps his kitchen stocked with the things I like at all times. He even purposely got the brand name crackers in the "stay fresh packs" that are half the size of the normal ones, and provide me with exactly the right amount of soup-to-cracker ratio. After just re-reading that sentence I realize that many of you (Joe included) will think that is a ridiculous thing to be excited about. But I am! To me that is just as special and made me just as happy as if he had given me his kidney. Provided that I needed a kidney, and that he was a match to donate one to me. Otherwise, I would still be grateful, but probably not as excited about his choice of gift.
Even with how particular I am about most things, if I don't have some odd, strong feeling about something, I rarely even think about it. I squeeze the toothpaste from the middle. I understand that this is a point of contention in many homes, but it's just something I don't think about. Joe likes to squeeze from the end and asked me several times to stop squeezing it from the middle. When it starts to become empty I push the toothpaste towards the cap, but sometimes when I'm in a hurry, I forget. One night I squeezed the toothpaste from the middle and then handed the tube to Joe so that he could use it. He told me that I was no longer allowed to put a top sheet on his bed until I learned to squeeze the toothpaste the correct way. Now, this may seem like a ridiculous punishment, but for me, this was very upsetting. I don't know how anyone could sleep with just a fitted sheet and not put the top sheet with it. I also don't like having just a comforter over me and nothing tucked in at the bottom of the bed. If Joe makes his bed, he just leaves out the top sheet and I would always re-make the bed "the right way". I didn't argue and accepted my sentence of having no more top sheet until I proved that I respected his toothpaste squeezing preferences. It never even crossed my mind that he was kidding.
Throughout my entire life I had been taught that men had rule and authority over women. Pastors, who were always male, had authority over the church, which was a symbol of Christ and His bride. Husbands had authority over their wives. Ephesians 5:22-25 "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto The Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the savior of the body. Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing. Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it." Very often during the quoting of this, the loving part is omitted. Women are taught to obey men without question. Children are to obey their parents, as is true in most cultures and is part of growing up, but are taught never to ask why. My father has told me and my sister countless times "Obey first, understand later." That is all well and good to teach a child obedience because in some cases, it could save their lives. If more adults would learn to obey the proper authorities, everyone's lives would be much easier...for the most part. Working as a paramedic, I am used to life or death situations being part of daily life. I work closely with police and firefighters who also share that. I know though that not everyone is going to obey, and that is natural. Even the Bible says that everyone was born with a sin nature. I do not feel that we should obey blindly though. We should be able to know why we are doing what we are doing. Obeying a command not to run out into the street is different than obeying a command to sit in the back of a bus.
I remember going to a conference at what I refer to as "the mothership" church in Hammond, IN, when I was a teenager. My parents attend a church not far from their home. The pastor there came from the Bible college that was started by this mega-church, a.k.a the mothership. My parents' pastor, in my eyes, is one of the hundreds of "cookie-cutter pastors" that this mega-church produces (for clarification: ATI is the homeschool group in which I was raised. The church my parents attend, and the afore mentioned mothership are entirely two different things). At one of the sessions at this conference that was only for women, the pastor's wife was teaching about how women should always obey anything their husband told them to do, and never, ever to question him, because what he was asking was clearly God's will. You were however allowed to question your husband if he went against the Bible or if what he wanted was illegal, and in that case, he was obviously being tempted and lied to by the devil. If your husband IS being tempted by the devil, this is still your fault as the wife. Don't think that you are off the hook just because your husband asked you to steal a car, not even close! Now you have more to worry about because YOU were allowing sin to be brought into the home and into your husband's life by not doing everything in your power to make sure that your husband was happy and free from distractions so that he could understand what God wanted! They do not cover this heavy stuff in Better homes and gardens!
If your husband asked you to do anything for him sexually, you were not allowed to say no. Rape was not something that existed in a marriage. It doesn't matter if you have a headache, a long day, or had gotten only an hour of sleep from being up all night with the baby. Part of your job as a wife was to satisfy your husband. If you were uncomfortable with an act that your husband wanted preformed, or if your husband didn't like period sex, woman, you had better get on your knees! (See, even cults teach you double entendres!) If your husband cheated on you, you must not have been meeting all of his needs. Everything was the fault of the wife and her disobedience, just like Eve. Husbands are told to love their wives, and why would you force someone to do anything they didn't feel comfortable doing, just for your own selfish pleasures?
I knew that what she was teaching was wrong, but things like that are still deeply rooted in my head. As I first ventured out into the world I was very good with authority and always had a fantastic work relationship with my bosses. I was great at being told what to do. As I mentioned, I am now a paramedic. As a paramedic, I have the highest level of medical care on an emergency scene. I love my job, I love being the one who makes the tough calls and the one who can stay (mostly) calm when someone is having the worst day of their lives. Being the highest level of care and sometimes command does not come naturally to me. Gender stereotypes are still very present in the world today no matter how much we think we have overcome them. Almost every time I arrive on a scene for a 911 call, whether for a stomach ache, a car crash, or a cardiac arrest, the natural instinct of most people is to tell the large, masculine firefighters what is wrong and to ignore the small woman with the medications which will probably help you. If I am working with a male EMT partner, people naturally tell him what their problem is. Unless I arrive on a scene with only my regular partner, who is a female smaller than myself, 9 out of 10 times I have to redirect attention and establish that I am in fact the one who is in charge of making the decisions.
Joe is also a paramedic for the same city and he was unaware that this was even a problem. Just a few weeks ago my female partner and I were at a very chaotic scene where family members were climbing onto the patient and not allowing us to work. I had asked them several times to step back, but my efforts were futile. Joe had been sent to the scene as well, and as soon as he asked the family to step back, they obeyed and Joe noticed no issue with them. while grateful that I was able to work on my patient, I also felt a twinge of jealousy for his broad, masculine shoulders, extra 9" of height, and commanding presence. I in no way feel that being a small female prevents me from being an effective paramedic, in many cases it is even helpful. I can crawl through small spaces, or win the trust of a woman or a child a bit faster, but every now and then being a "half sized medic" has more challenges than I would like. I have spent the last 10 years working to break myself out of that habit and not questioning the commands I give. For the most part, everyone works very well together. My male partners are amazing at helping to direct the decisions to me. Once in a while though, my orders are questioned, or even ignored. I have to fight an almost paralyzing fear with all that I have to stand up for myself and give an order to a man, let alone contradict him!
For weeks I squeezed the toothpaste from the middle. Sometimes I would forget but quickly go back and fix it because I didn't want to endure any more nights longing for the beloved top sheet. Joe had apparently forgotten as quickly as he had made the joke. I had not. Joe's subconscious tends to want those around him to be warm. Sleeping next to him without a top sheet is stressful for me. If I push the comforter off of myself, sleeping Joe instantly springs into action and covers me again, securing the cover with his legs and arms. If I elect to sleep on top of the cover, I get too cold. Night after night I longed for the top sheet, but I didn't mention it because I didn't want to risk losing it for longer. Joe has never given me a reason to think that he is the monster that my brain had created, but once you are brainwashed into submissiveness to men, it takes a lot to retrain your way of thinking. The other night I was being snarky and I purposely squeezed the toothpaste in the middle, right in front of Joe. I quickly fixed it. He laughed and said that I could put the top sheet back on his bed. I was elated. I gave him the biggest hug and ran to make the bed. It wasn't until then that he realized I had taken him seriously. He couldn't fathom that I had actually spent all these weeks of effort and worry because of a joke he had made. Poor Joe had to deal with the huge flood of emotions from all the past memories he stirred up, but he felt bad and gave me so many hugs and dried my tears.
He also decided that it was probably best just to ask me nicely to stop leaving the top off the shampoo in the shower.