I’m Just So Tired Of Being Strong

Does an independent woman have to do it all, all of the time?

“It doesn’t seem like you actually need me,” my husband once shared.

Because, well, I really didn’t.

My doorknob fiasco

“Yes!” I shouted as I twisted the last screw into place on the replacement door handle. Grasping the knob and turning resulted in…nothing. Stuck tighter than a Victorian-era twat.

Damn door handle. I’ve been fighting you for a little under 365 days and finally I replaced you. And you still don’t work!

As though I am behind a cash register during a robbery, my hands fly into the air. Tears quickly induct my cheeks and chin into some sort of emotional hall of fame.

“I’m done,” I moan, stomping my way to the basement laundry room to scream and sulk and bawl. Leaving the front door wide open on a very windy winter afternoon.

Why I do everything

I know I can do most things. Because I have to. I was raised to be fiercely independent and I was endlessly praised for my strength and self-motivated work ethic. Though my parents are deeply entrenched in gender-divided household tasks I was brought up understanding that a woman should never need a partner.

And then I married a guy who was nicer than he was driven or handy. I brought home the bacon and kept our little home running while he preferred to glue his eyeballs to kitten videos.

I didn’t need his paycheque or his lag bolt-sized knowledge. I didn’t need his ass too lazy to raise itself from the couch to clean a toilet or turn on the oven burner. I did need his dick but since he refused to screw me most of the time even that part of him was negligent.

So I controlled everything that I could. And hired my Dad or other friends for any of the jobs I couldn’t figure out how to do on my own.

The truth is I don’t always want to

Back to the basement. The concrete floor. The wails of a 48-turned-into-two-year-old having a fit.

“Here’s the truth,” I scream at no one. “I don’t want to change doorknobs and furnace filters!” The washing machine sponges up my wrath.

I’m tired, tired, tired of it being all me who cooks, cleans, and fixes the shop vac. I don’t want to re-hang the shed door, or de-clog the dishwasher screen, or install the new door handle.

Sometimes I just want to rely on someone.

A few years ago I woke up to the awareness that occasionally I don’t want to be the Strong One. I decided it was time I gifted some control to my husband and crossed my fingers that he might suddenly shock us all by taking out the recycling.

And guess how God showered me with His humor? My husband was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer’s. A burst in motivation or ability isn’t even a possibility anymore.

I HAVE to be the strong one.

Admitting I DO need help

I may not have believed I needed my husband. Or a man in general. I always believed that I should be able to do it all. On my own.

But now I know that I need people. We all do. One very important lesson I’ve learned for surviving life as a caregiver — or life in general — is the need to ask for help.

I need my mom who, without being asked, shoves her arms into soapy water and scrubs pots. I need my dad who levels the deck and replaces broken tiles. I need the neighbor who, before Covid, took my kids every week for cooking lessons.

I need capable people who are willing to help. We all do.

Why can’t women be strong AND want help?

Somehow, though, society seems to spank any of us who admit to needing help. They slam our ideas of feminism with ridiculous rebuttals — how can those of us with labia both demand power and ask for help?

So when I can’t do it solo I feel like a waste of two hardy X chromosomes. I feel as though I should just slam my Women’s Studies degree into the firepit and set it ablaze. I weep to myself as I read the following quote.

“A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” Irina Dunn, popularized by Gloria Steinem

Why can’t I be both a proudly independent woman and need help? Why are those two existences so opposite? Why can’t I be the guppy who straddles a cheap cruiser bike?

I can’t do it all – and I need to quit trying.

I have decided that I am allowing myself to be a worthy independent woman and a worthy one who needs, asks for, and accepts help.

Brene Brown…defines shame for women as: a self-held expectation that we need to do it all and do it all well. Brown explains when we don’t do it all, we believe we have failed, and then shame swallows us into the abyss of unworthiness. Sarah Gibson

Now I can just pray that society will accept this as well. Want to join the revolution?

I’m going to correct anyone who mutters “It doesn’t seem like you actually need me.”

Because, well, I really do.

© Jennifer J. McDougall 2021

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