Questioning Manhood

I cater to my wife. I defer to her judgment, her recommendations, her desires, even her whims, on a daily basis. Most husbands don’t act like this, but my contention is that they did, once upon a time. When they were a-courting.

And turning marriage back into passionate courtship is what I both preach and practice.

But… you may ask… is it manly? Or is it wimpish? I ask myself those galling questions more often than you might think. Because I know how I can appear to others. And I have overheard occasional comments from friends or family, male and female, who view me through the optics of traditional masculinity, as less than manly.

Perhaps like the foppish young man in Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Story of the Bandbox” (from New Arabian Nights), quoted in the very first post of this blog two years ago:

“He took a pride in servility to a beautiful woman; received Lady Vandeleur's commands as so many marks of favour; and was pleased to exhibit himself before other men in his character of male lady's-maid and man milliner.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if, occasionally and safely out of earshot, I am described as tied to my wife’s apron strings. Or wrapped around her finger. As spineless, or henpecked. And, to be sure, as pussywhipped.

All true, in a sense. But, arguably, it takes a real man to put up with those kinds of putdowns. Which reminds me of the consoling words of a favorite wife-worshipping mentor, Au876 (from Lady Misato’s original husbands’ forum):

“I think it takes a real man to properly serve and worship his wife. As husbands it is our challenge to be the real man our wife wants. No matter what it is she wants, we should devote ourselves to her and strive to serve her in every way possible.”

Now that I’m pumping myself up, let me venture a bit further. I contend that catering to one’s wife actually builds character. Let me cite, in solidarity, this articulate husband:

“I look at the process of wife worship as part of my growth process as a person. I see the wife worship process as one means to look at my ego, to think before speaking. For instance, I try not to contradict my wife in public or private anymore. So part of the process for me is letting go of certain ego attachments — a big one being the ridiculous need to always be right, even at her expense. Does anyone else out there find himself looking at wife worship as a means of spiritual or personal growth?”

Well, yes, I certainly do. Some of my deferential behavior may be natural inclination. I admit to certain inborn tendencies like Harry in RLS’ story. But much of my daily deference involves struggle. I, too, confess to a tendency to interrupt my wife, a compulsion to always be right. My resolve to worship and follow my wife’s lead in all things supplies a unity of purpose to my daily life, even moment by moment, helping me to resist these compulsions and modify my natural behavior in her favor.

Finally, under this heading, I will quote myself, from a posting on May 16 of last year, “Wife-Worshippers as Monks or Fakirs?”:

“I believe there are some obvious parallels between the man pursuing a deeply wife-led marriage and a person who dedicates himself to a certain spiritual discipline or way of life. In both instances, there may be a daily sacrifice of certain creature comforts and personal prerogatives in favor of a simplified existence focused on service and devotion.

“Whether or not vows are sworn, in either case the individual attempts to set aside his own wants and wishes and to submit his will to that of another. And whether the backdrop be sacred or profane, there can be considerable struggle in this setting aside of one’s natural inclination.

“The devotee, in either instance, may be required to sacrifice favorite and even cherished things—hobbies and pastimes, appetites and desires, even traditional rights, as well as bad habits and vices—to keep his pledge and further his quest.”

Maybe I should make a list of some of the stuff I forgo or give up on a daily basis, and happily so, to be more perfectly and ardently hers.

Happily Shackled

“…And it's knowin' I'm not shackled / By forgotten words and bonds / And the ink stains that have dried upon some line… / That keeps you ever gentle on my mind.”
—Glen Campbell, “Gentle on My Mind” [actually written by John Harper, as noted by one of my readers]

Of course, it’s precisely the contractual shackling of the wandering, marauding male animal that makes civilization (and wife worship) possible. “It's the miracle of love—and commitment,” as I wrote in Chapter One of my book, citing a favorite quote from author George Gilder’s seminal work, Men and Marriage:

“Women manipulate male sexual desire in order to teach men the long-term cycles of female sexuality and biology on which civilization is based.”

Yes, manipulate. Hence, the wife-led marriage. It’s not just comic relief, watching Fred Flintstone getting his daily comeuppance from Wilma. Nor is this domestic role reversal, with the wife calling the shots, contrary to the natural order of things.

I don’t think it’s going too far to say that the “perpetual courtship” or wife-worship or wife-led marriage is really what marriage is intended to be—the daily undertaking by the husband to make good on all those high-flown, ultra-romantic promises he repeated before he got to kiss the bride.

For the wife-worship husband, every day is promise-keeping day, with “love,” “honor” and “cherish” atop his perennial to-do list—and "obey,” as well, for a growing number of worshipful husbands.

Looking through saved web postings on these intimate matters, I came across the following, attributed only to a “Ms. Justine”:

“In order for a male to fully be a man he must come under the full influence and control of a woman. The contract of marriage guarantees what the male animal most deeply longs for--to empty his testes on a regular basis. In exchange for this simple favor, he must surrender all that he thinks and knows as freedom. No longer can he do as he pleases. He must now work hard and be productive. Men only become loyal, faithful and productive when they come under the control of a woman. It is only the contract of marriage which insists that a man work and surrender the fruits of his labor."

George Gilder, I doubt not, would agree.

But, in Glen Campbell’s terms, can’t a guy “just leave my sleepin' bag / Rolled up and stashed behind your couch”? Does he got to be matrimonially bonded and shackled?

I dealt with this at some length in a previous posting, “Marriage Is No Excuse,” but the short answer is, “Pretty much, yep.”

Fumika Misato, creator of the provocative Real Women Don’t Do Housework website, explains that while it is certainly possible for a woman to be worshipped within a long-term non-marital arrangement, “outside of marriage, there is (a) a temptation on the part of the man to seek an easier resolution, and b) no committed relationship into which to invest.”

He needs, in other words, to be shackled. Happily, even blissfully shackled, if you ask me.

Letting Him

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.”

On Holiday Hiatus

Apologies to those who check in here on a semi-regular basis. I'm caught up in the family holiday fun and freneticisms, like so many others, but look forward to resuming posting shortly after New Year's. In fact, I'm resolving to be quicken the pace a bit.

Peace and Contentment

The other day, while paging through my archives of wife-worship postings, I found an exact phrase cropping up again and again. The phrase was “peace and contentment,” and in every instance it was applied to the masculine side of the romantic equation.

Lucky husbands and boyfriends were basically “blissing out,” utterly losing themselves in the “Feminine Mystique,” overwhelmed and enveloped by goddess-like womanhood.

Here is a short and sweet sampling from men and women alike:

“A wife [may punish] her husband, but afterwards she nurtures him, which brings him peace and contentment.” [From Elise Sutton]

“My husband likes being in a constant state of sexual arousal. After I have been sexually satisfied from his body worship and oral servitude, he will lay next to me, exhausted but with the most incredible look of peace and contentment on his face. He is like a helpless puppy dog around me.”

“When a man totally surrenders to his wife, he experiences a sense of peace and contentment that he's never known before. I know because I have experienced it.”

“I can sense and see the anger and frustration leaving my husband’s body when I physically take charge of him, and I see the look of peace and contentment on his face when I am done.”

“Let your wife know that you enjoy her power and the more she exercises it, the more it yields the fruit of peace and contentment for you.”

“I have been transformed into a happy househusband who has found total peace and contentment in my servitude to my Queen. I never thought I could be this happy and often wonder what took me so long get on the right page.”

“When my husband bows before me and worships me as his Queen, and vows to obey me in all things, I feel so powerful and he radiates with peace and contentment. Then I take him in my arms and we both become full of passion.”

Curbing My Enthusiasm, Part Two

Actress Marlo Thomas recalled how annoyed she would get when her husband, TV perennial Phil Donahue, would walk into their bedroom and demand in his resonant on-air voice, “Honey, where are my shoes?”

What annoyed her the most, Thomas recalled, was not her husband interrupting her with this childish demand, but that she always knew exactly where he had left his size-12 wingtips.

Apparently even celebrity wives are used to playing mommy to childish husbands, used to being interrupted with self-centered, impatient, even infantile demands—“Find my shoes,” “Tie my tie,” “Sew my button,” “What happened to my leftover pepperoni slice?”

It’s true, our wives do know everything, including where we left our wallet, our shoes, our car keys, our cell phone. But barging in on the wife with me-first demands, derailing her train of thought, not respecting whatever activity, or inactivity, she may be engaged in, is emphatically not courtship behavior.

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

So knock it off, guys! But do knock—if you do need to speak to her and she has closed the bedroom door. Never barge in, Lord of the Manor-style.

In many wife-led marriages, this is pretty standard protocol, as per this message board sequence (on which I have altered names):

George: “Do other guys have to knock on the bedroom door, before they are allowed in? My wife now insists that I knock before I can enter. Recently on holiday in a villa we rented with the rest of the family I didn't knock and she wanted to know why. I said I didn't want anyone to know I had to knock first, and she replied that she didn't care and I was to knock in future. Sometimes she lets me in and other times she refuses until she finishes changing. I have to wait at the door until it's my turn to change. This makes me feel how much she is in control."

Wife No. 1: “I agree, you shouldn’t automatically enter when you feel like it. I don't much like being interrupted unexpectedly either. It also places you in a ‘asking' mindset before barging in. It tells you that you are NOT in control in the bedroom, SHE is! If others ask you about it, you can say, 'My wife asked me to not unexpectedly open the door with other people in the villa, and I respect her wishes.' Then you sound like the most thoughtful man around.”

Wife No. 2: “You sound very thoughtful - Keep up the good service. Just knock in all situations and neither one of you will have to give it much thought.”

Wife No. 3: “Of course you should knock on her bedroom door, George. When my sweet hubby brings me my morning tea, or at other times he wishes to enter, he always knocks first and does not enter until I say so.”

George: “Thank you for replying, ladies. I'm glad I am not alone.”

One More Step

Not interrupting one’s spouse is a good first step in wife worship. But some husbands, practicing perpetual courtship, take it a step farther… letting themselves be interrupted by their wives.

As I wrote in my book (Chapter 6, “Daring to Be Known by Her”): “If this seems a bit extreme, remember, I’m trying to alter lifelong habits, and it’s not easy. And, anyway, isn’t this the kind of attention that a spouse deserves?... Most important, isn’t this the way you listen to someone you’re madly in love with?”

The answer is emphatically “Yes!”—at least according to this “Amen Chorus” of dutiful husbands:

“Allow yourself to be interrupted.”

“When she speaks now, or asks for my attention for something she wants to tell me, or even off-handedly, I don’t give her half an ear.”

“Whenever your wife says something to you, stop what you’re doing and listen up. Don’t overdo, don’t be servile, but pay careful attention.”

“I might be reading a book or doing whatever, but when my wife speaks, I immediately attend to her.”

“I really, really want to pay attention to her every word. When she does make a request of me, I treat it as a command. I have no sense of a mental debate in my mind like I have in the past.”

“My wife isn't all that bossy but when she has something to say, I listen, and when she even hints at something for me to do, I do it.”

In some female-led households, of course, the wife is encouraged to be more than a bit bossy. One such matriarchal wife instituted the following conversational rule for her mate: “If I speak, you must be silent, even if you are speaking first.”

Curbing My Enthusiasm, Part One

Pretty much I’m a quiet guy, shy in social situations. But every once in a while, who knows why, out pops Jack-the-Chatterbox, not listening to, or simply talking over others, including my wife, in my eagerness to blurt out my next bon mot. Could be a quip. Could be something better left unsaid.

There’s that baggy-pants guy with the squirting selzer bottle again, high-stepping across the stage through the spotlight. Get the hook.

My wife has seen this act many times before. She may boot me in the shins under the table at the time, or rebuke me later in the car. She may let it pass.

I’m not as incorrigible as I used to be, Lord knows. Over the years I’ve tried to keep a lid on what Alan Greenspan (in another context) termed “irrational exuberance.” Way back in elementary school, I was one of those first-one-with-the-answer kids, like the “grade-grubbing,” precocious girl “Summer” in the movie School of Rock.

But, clearly, I can still act like that attention-seeking second-grader.

Wife worship—serious wife worship, the kind that evolves into a committed wife-led marriage—offers me a chance to finally outgrow this juvenile behavior.

In fact, on the various wife-worship and female-led message boards and forums, you will find many husbands struggling with this kind of conversational boorishness, in order to show greater respect for their leading wives. Here is an example of a guy sharing some New Year’s Resolves:

“I will not back talk to my wife. I will not interrupt. I will not comment on everything. I will listen carefully so she does not have to repeat things. When she says to stop something that is annoying her, I will stop immediately, no whining, no moping, no bad attitude. I will not disagree with her in public.”

As I wrote in my book (Chapter 6,
"Being Known by Her": “I mean, really, how can you worship your wife if you won’t even stop and listen to her? If you can’t turn down the volume of your own thoughts and preoccupations long enough for her voice to get through to you?”

Another husband offers a few conversational specifics: “Yes, we need to watch what we say. In private, it is best to listen more and speak less. Consider her feelings, answer her questions directly and honestly, be open about your emotions and pay attention to her verbal and non-verbal clues. In public, show deference to her ideas and views, do not interrupt or use foul language. She will love it if you stand up for her opinions.”

“I make it a practice to sit and listen with total focus to whatever my wife is saying,” recommends another husband.

I came up with almost identical advice in my book: “Now when my wife speaks, even offhandedly, a little bell rings, reminding me, ‘This is not background noise, this is the woman you love and adore.’ Especially if she speaks in a tone that signals she really need my attention, I stop—whatever I’m doing. If I’m standing, I often sit down, to concentrate on what she’s saying.”

But I especially like this prescription for husbandly comportment posted on the old Spouseclub message board by a “Mr. Louise,” describing his matriarchal home:

“My greatest thrill in our social life is when we have a few friends over and the wives all talk openly to each other and the men are finally lulled by Ms. Louise's dominance and their own wives into quiet, sensible submission. The sound of male quiet during female conversation is the music of a matriarchal home. If I excitedly offer my opinion Ms. Louise often returns me to my place with a loving chide: ‘Honey, please, the women are speaking now.’ And that is the motto of our matriarchy: the women are speaking now; men, you've had your chance, and please be silent.”

Curbing one’s conversational excesses is obviously more difficult lacking a no-nonsense wife like Ms. Louise, or this authoritarian wife: “In my home, my husband is forbidden to interrupt the feminine talk, nor to command any conversation, except with my explicit consent.”

At our house, I have to do the self-scolding, or self-reminding: Don't give her the benefit of your opinions on everything, don't sound off or weigh in before she has a chance to speak. Find out what she thinks.

And don’t, for heaven’s sake, interrupt her. No matter how much you feel compelled to share some cosmic thought. Don’t interrupt if she’s on the phone, or chatting with someone, including our kids, or reading a book, or watching TV. Unless the sky is genuinely falling.

In other words, respect what she’s doing. Let your urgency wait. And don’t just stand there, silently importuning. Back out of the room, go away, try again later.

As this wife counsels, “My hubby learned that when he got ‘the look’ while I was working on a project that it was best for him not to interrupt but to find something else to do—fast.”

So, what I do with my conversational enthusiasm these days is—blog! And I’ve got a bit more to say on this topic, but I’ll save it for Part Two.