Letting Go Of Needing To Be A Wife

I've spent my entire life collecting badges, prizes, and titles. From perfect attendance awards to essay contests. Girl scout badges and pageant trophies. For as long as I can remember I have found my identity and self worth in the titles bestowed upon me by other people, people I felt were more knowledgeable, respectable, and worthy than myself. Clearly if THEY saw some value in me, it must really be there. I needed the world to tell me who I was.

I was a responsible older sister, an academic scholar, a pageant winner, a sorority member, a lead teacher....

Each title came with the reassurance I needed to know that I was worthy. It also gave me a blueprint for how I should show up in the world. It told me what mask to wear, and what image to project.

Unfortunately, the reassurance that came with each title was fleeting. It was never enough to sustain me. I was always left thinking, "What's next?" What do I need to achieve or accomplish next to prove my worth?"  "Who needs to say that I have done enough? That I am enough?"

After graduating from my masters program and entering my career, I found that opportunities to pursue new titles were fleeting. There were fewer badges to win. Less recognition to glean, and a minority of people available to say "job well done."

It was then that I decided to shift my focus. I'd proven to the world that I was smart. I'd proven that I could use my brain and determination to gain recognition, but how could I prove to the world that I was truly lovable? How could I show that I was worthy of the kind of title that lasts a lifetime?

I needed a title that would provide lasting satisfaction. One that could show me once and for all who I was, and what my place was in this world. I needed the ultimate title. I needed to be a WIFE!

YES! That was it! I needed to get married. That was the award to top all awards. It even came with a sparkling status symbol that would sit, perched upon my hand, showing the whole world that I was worthy. Chosen. Selected to hold a spot in another persons life for the rest of their life.

Becoming a wife would give me a chance to finally rest. A chance to stop chasing my next title. This accomplishment, unlike the others, would not be fleeting. It would be like a profitable investment, gaining value over time. If I could prove to the man I loved, that I loved well enough to be chosen by him, then I could breathe. I could settle into this permanent role. I could find myself. I could love myself. After all, if he could love me forever, then so could I...right?

Looking back all of these years later at the young woman I was on the day of my proposal all I can do is sigh. I see the joy in her eyes as she looks down at her ring. Thinking to herself "I've done it! I've won! I've achieved the ultimate title!"

My heart is heavy for her. Not only because I know how broken she will be when the title of wife is revoked, but also because I know how many years it will take for her to heal that brokenness. I know how much blood, sweat, and tears she will shed in pursuit of that title. I know how empty and defeated she will feel when she realizes how wrong she was in her expectations of what being a wife would bring her in the first place.

Dr. Maya Angelou is my grandmother in my heart. Her words have gotten me through the darkest times of my life. One of my favorite quotes from her is when she says, "Love liberates. It does not bind." Being released from the title of wife/fiance, although it was earth shattering at the time, was the greatest act of love and liberation.

The man I loved, loved me enough to see that he could not bestow upon me a title that would ultimately never quench my thirst for worthiness and recognition. He knew that marrying me would only set me up for disappointment later down the road. He knew that there was no such thing as the "ultimate title." He knew that no one, not even him, could love me enough to show me how to love myself. 

Now don't get me wrong, I'd still love to marry some one, some day. But now it's for totally different reasons. I no longer need a title to prove that I have been chosen. Instead I have chosen myself. I get to decide how I show up in this world. I get to bestow upon myself the titles that mean the most to me.

I am a nurturer. I am a safe place. A Friend. A confidant. A source of peace. For me, these are the ultimate titles, and I wear them proudly.