Saturday, January 3, 2009
I might as well fess up. In my marriage, the impetus for wife worship came from me. I was the one making the sales pitch, though,. God knows, it was overdue. I had neglected my beautiful bride in so many ways. In fact, without my “conversion” to this courtship lifestyle, I don’t know that my wife and I would still be together.
Her initial skepticism over “wife worship” morphed into a kind of amused tolerance. Of course, I had to prove to her, over time, that this wasn’t just another crazy phase. When I began writing the book (intended primarily for her), I think she began to be intrigued.
At one point, when I was outlining all the various topics to be covered, she volunteered to write a chapter of her own: “Letting Him.”
I’m still waiting for that chapter, but, in a way, her chapter title says it all. Sure, she seems to be implying, it’s male fantasyland, but at least it’s putting the husband’s focus where it belongs, on the wife. So, ladies, why not let yourself be worshipped as your husband’s queen? Or his goddess? Or whatever hyperbolic imagery he prefers.
It’s the advice I would give to any wife who is approached by a semi-coherent husband with a tract or printout or webpage advertising the female-led lifestyle or a wife-worship marriage.
Let him—worship you. Serve you. Adore you. Just… let him.
My wife, these days, is doing so. Letting me. Not making a big deal of it. Often not even acknowledging it (best of all). It’s routine for me to make our bed, fold her nightgown carefully and lay it under her pillow. To do the laundry, and clean the house, and rub lotion into her lovely feet at night, and be instantly ready for her whenever she initiates intimacy.
And whenever I look around these days, I find another simple service right there in front of me, something to be done for her. A recent example occurred during a holiday trip, where we stayed several days at a hotel.
After we checked in and kind of collapsed, with Christmas packages and luggage all over the place, a lightbulb went off over my head. I remembered a posting on Lady Misato’s original Wife Worship husbands’ forum from my favorite poster, Au876. I saved it, so I can quote it here:
“We went to visit some of my wife's girlfriends at a lake cabin a couple of years ago. We had to take our own sheets and etc. One of the first things I did after getting the car unloaded was to make up our bed and put our clothes away. Later we were all sitting around talking. My wife asked me, ‘Have you made up my bed yet?’ One of the ladies started to laugh like that was a stupid thing to expect of a man. But I quickly responded, telling her yes and I had hung up all of her clothes, too…
“The lady who laughed made some sort of comment about what a good husband I was, and my wife responded, saying something like, ‘He knows what is expected of him.’ I was not embarrassed. I was proud of myself. I had done what I was supposed to do. The fact that my wife asked me was a sure sign she did not intend to keep my devoted status a secret from them. The fact I had already done it was a sure sign to her I was not ashamed of my status.”
Flashback to me, with that lightbulb flashing over my head. I was instantly energized. While my wife called our friends in other rooms and made evening plans, I began quietly to unpack, starting with her bag and her clothes, hanging up some items, putting others on a shelf in an adjoining wardrobe area, putting her book and reading glasses and other items on her bedside, her toiletries in the bathroom, then put away her bags. Did the same for me, even made a start with the kids’ stuff.
I had never done this simple service before. (Don’t ask me why.) But my wife took it for granted, just as Mrs. Au876 had, as if it were expected of me.
She was practicing what she had never gotten around to preaching in that unwritten chapter. She was “letting me.”