Giving Our Freedom Away

Last week I met with two teenage girls who both happened to break up with their boyfriends in that same week. During my conversations with each of them, I noticed they both started off feeling very sad and somewhat numb, and partway through our conversations, I watched them begin to come alive. In each case, it started with a sudden thought along the lines of “Oh wait, now I get to do _______(talk to this friend again, Snapchat whoever I want, go wherever I want without having to let him know where I am or who I’m with, etc.)”. This thought led to another one, and then another one, the realizations of what they could now do coming faster and faster. Within just a few minutes, both girls were no longer sad. Instead, they were hopeful, breathing easier, and feeling freer, because they were no longer shackled by the restrictions their partners had put on them. They realized they were no longer in a position of giving their freedom away in order to make someone else happy

I wondered what kind of reactions their now-exes were having to the break-ups, and what they would think if they could see how these girls were reacting. I wondered if they were feeling freer also, or if they were feeling somewhat lost. I’ve always been intrigued by the fact that many men remarry fairly quickly after a divorce or the death of their spouse.

Women, on the other hand, tend to remain single for much longer. I’ve heard a repeating chorus of some version of “I don’t know if I will ever have another serious relationship again, let alone get married. I like being able to do whatever I want now, and don’t want to give that up” from enough women to know that this is a common refrain. Many women find they much prefer being able to go where they want to go, be friends with whoever they want to be friends with, make their own financial decisions, and not have to check in with anyone, in ways they feel they just can’t do inside of a relationship.

Given this, I find it interesting that the narrative around men has historically been that they are wild stallions who women invariably want to tame and break. Women, on the other hand, are framed as these controlling harpies who just need a good firm hand on the till so they will fall into line, and then everything will be fine. The men can gallop off as the free and powerful creatures they are, and the women will leave them to their capricious ways, and happily stay home, keep house and watch the babies.

But what was playing out in front of me was a very different reality. These women were acting like they were the horses who had been saddled, but whose saddle had just been abruptly removed, and they were starting to realize that they could now run free again. Once that realization hit, they were chomping at the bit to get back out there, not to be saddled again, but so they could run and play and dance and feel alive again.

And the guys? At least one of them jumped immediately into another relationship. He, at least, does not appear to feel the need to run free anytime soon, given that he essentially piled one saddle on top of another.

So what does this mean when held up against that competing historical narrative, and what do we do about it? And why did those girls give their freedom away so quickly in the first place?

I remember when my husband and I started dating, and he made some comments to me about my inherent independent streak. I very clearly did not “need” a man, and this bothered him. He wanted to feel needed, and like I depended on him for things. He wanted to open the jar for me, rescue me from the side of the road, and check my oil for me (the fact that he didn’t actually know how to check the oil, and I did, was beside the point). I was in the love bubble and wanted to make him happy, and so I started asking him for help with things that I didn’t actually need his help with.

I pretended to need him, so that he would feel needed, and over time I forgot that I didn’t actually need his help with these things at all. I got so good at pretending, I even fooled myself. Eventually, I woke up and found my spine again, but by that time, I had been playing the part for so long that it took some time (and no small amount of anxiety) for me to remind myself of my own capabilities.

Now, I look at my behavior back then and I shake my head at my own foolishness. But I also understand why I did it. The narrative that it was my job to make people happy was so strong that it didn’t even occur to me that it wasn’t actually my job to do whatever I had to do to make my boyfriend/fiance/husband happy. If that meant selling my own independence down the river, then I guess I just had to bid it farewell and send it packing. Better that he be happy than I hold on to my own identity.

Now, before I give the impression that this is about man-bashing, let me be clear—I don’t think that men really need or expect women to be whatever they are needing, or be objects for men to order about and report to. I do suspect that our gender stereotypes and narratives are deeply false, on both sides, and that we accidentally reinforce them when we act as if they are actually accurate, and this likely leads to untold levels of confusion and misunderstandings on both sides.

My husband and I both matured individually and inside of our relationship, and we now have a relationship where we support each other’s independence. While we still have certain things we lean on each other for, we are also much better about seeing each other as two distinct people with separate needs and preferences, and practice honoring our individuality as well as our union.

And those girls I was talking to last week both vowed that in their next relationship, they would not give their freedom away for the sake of making their partner happy. Whether or not they stick with that remains to be seen, but for now, I will encourage them to be true to themselves and stand on their own two feet. A partner who is worth either one of them will appreciate their ability to stand up for themselves, rather than expect them to bend to the will of anyone. Let’s see who’s the wild stallion now, shall we?

Love,

Amy