Immersed in academia, social theories and discourse as I am at the moment there is no doubt that I can have moments when my reading has an effect on me and my submissive bent. Take, for example, my required reading on Feminist Conflict Theory and the notion that without economic power women are at the mercy of men.
The greater women's economic power is relative to men's and the more women control their own lives, the greater their access will be to other sources of value in stratified social systems, especially honor and prestige, political power and ideological support for their rights.
For decades, the notion of pooling our funds has been comfortable for me. Well, I tell a lie. It's been relatively comfortable for me to pool the funds. I come from a line of women that were strong willed and independent. My grandmother and mother, with the support of their husbands, ran businesses and had access to their own funds without needing to ask anyone for permission. I haven't always agreed with my husband's decisions concerning finances and at times I have sincerely doubted them. But, I have always signed my name on the dotted line when he asked me to, and to this day I give him my trust and understanding that he'll do what is best for us. I want to underscore the word trust because at the end of the day this is what it all boils down to and this is what he demands.
We are in transition mode at the moment as a couple. Matters in his court have been finalized to the extent that he has more to offer me in terms of time and attention and whilst this is indeed what I want, there's a little part of my brain that says things like "You can't just switch me on and off like a tap. I'm going to need a little bit of time to get used to this" and "I don't think you've quite taken in and acknowledged in a way that I think adequate just how much I suffered through this ordeal".
He's not liking this transition and wants to move on straight away to the next era. He wants the compliant girl back; the one with generosity of spirit, a strong and indomitable sense of trust and a willingness to drive on. I'm getting there. I think I just want to be assured of his co-operation to take my requests very seriously. I. do. mean. to. have. my. renovations. I. am. not. kidding. around.
In one part of my brain I feel like a bit of a fool. I mean, I have no economic power over my own life at all. Sure, I can go and buy a dress this moment and he won't blink but I mean economic power to make bigger decisions than that. Well, actually, I do have a little nest egg, a gift, and I'm happy to give it all to the renovation process. I have said this many times. Yet, it doesn't make the process any faster. It. is. simply. not. in. my. job. description. I'm meant to wait patiently.
I'm at the tail end of my Masters program now. I'm no dummie on any level (except that I consider myself a bimbo dumdum dolli, of course) but not even a Ph.D or a Nobel Prize in Literature for that matter is going to make any difference at all. Major financial decisions in my life are made on my behalf.
I've a friend whose husband recently advised her that he was leaving the family. He's a doctor who suddenly decided he doesn't want to be an esteemed doctor any more and he doesn't want a family either. To hell with the fact that she gave up her medical career to bring up the three children due to his workaholism and that she is no longer registered to practice. He wants her off the (figurative) pay roll and wants her to get a job. My age, she's applied for well over 100 jobs since his notification of the end of their relationship and still no luck. Marriages fail. Partners move on. And yet, I live with complete faith and assurance (as did she) that my husband would never fail me. It's not what Feminist Conflict Theory would advise!
But, this is all too much thinki. We go on as we have gone on for a very long time. He's the boss and now that the business crisis has been averted he wants the dumdum dolli back; the woman who has complete faith and trust; the woman who is thrilled to be in that 'ole submissive groove; the fucktoy.
It's completely true that what we do and the way we do it can't and won't change and nor should it, necessarily. Still, there are days when I feel I have no alternative but to turn off my academic/thinking brain and just follow my instincts, because what we do doesn't always make logical sense.
The greater women's economic power is relative to men's and the more women control their own lives, the greater their access will be to other sources of value in stratified social systems, especially honor and prestige, political power and ideological support for their rights.
For decades, the notion of pooling our funds has been comfortable for me. Well, I tell a lie. It's been relatively comfortable for me to pool the funds. I come from a line of women that were strong willed and independent. My grandmother and mother, with the support of their husbands, ran businesses and had access to their own funds without needing to ask anyone for permission. I haven't always agreed with my husband's decisions concerning finances and at times I have sincerely doubted them. But, I have always signed my name on the dotted line when he asked me to, and to this day I give him my trust and understanding that he'll do what is best for us. I want to underscore the word trust because at the end of the day this is what it all boils down to and this is what he demands.
We are in transition mode at the moment as a couple. Matters in his court have been finalized to the extent that he has more to offer me in terms of time and attention and whilst this is indeed what I want, there's a little part of my brain that says things like "You can't just switch me on and off like a tap. I'm going to need a little bit of time to get used to this" and "I don't think you've quite taken in and acknowledged in a way that I think adequate just how much I suffered through this ordeal".
He's not liking this transition and wants to move on straight away to the next era. He wants the compliant girl back; the one with generosity of spirit, a strong and indomitable sense of trust and a willingness to drive on. I'm getting there. I think I just want to be assured of his co-operation to take my requests very seriously. I. do. mean. to. have. my. renovations. I. am. not. kidding. around.
In one part of my brain I feel like a bit of a fool. I mean, I have no economic power over my own life at all. Sure, I can go and buy a dress this moment and he won't blink but I mean economic power to make bigger decisions than that. Well, actually, I do have a little nest egg, a gift, and I'm happy to give it all to the renovation process. I have said this many times. Yet, it doesn't make the process any faster. It. is. simply. not. in. my. job. description. I'm meant to wait patiently.
I'm at the tail end of my Masters program now. I'm no dummie on any level (except that I consider myself a bimbo dumdum dolli, of course) but not even a Ph.D or a Nobel Prize in Literature for that matter is going to make any difference at all. Major financial decisions in my life are made on my behalf.
I've a friend whose husband recently advised her that he was leaving the family. He's a doctor who suddenly decided he doesn't want to be an esteemed doctor any more and he doesn't want a family either. To hell with the fact that she gave up her medical career to bring up the three children due to his workaholism and that she is no longer registered to practice. He wants her off the (figurative) pay roll and wants her to get a job. My age, she's applied for well over 100 jobs since his notification of the end of their relationship and still no luck. Marriages fail. Partners move on. And yet, I live with complete faith and assurance (as did she) that my husband would never fail me. It's not what Feminist Conflict Theory would advise!
But, this is all too much thinki. We go on as we have gone on for a very long time. He's the boss and now that the business crisis has been averted he wants the dumdum dolli back; the woman who has complete faith and trust; the woman who is thrilled to be in that 'ole submissive groove; the fucktoy.
It's completely true that what we do and the way we do it can't and won't change and nor should it, necessarily. Still, there are days when I feel I have no alternative but to turn off my academic/thinking brain and just follow my instincts, because what we do doesn't always make logical sense.
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