We were at Sam’s looking at a fancy stereo. I had all my Christmas money in my purse.
“I dunno, Dad. It’s a lot of money.” I wanted a stereo of my own, but this cost more money than i had spent at one time in my life at that point.
“I’m not gonna say you have to get this one, but it’s a good stereo, and it would definitely bless your future husband. He would be really happy to have it.”
I suddenly felt guilty that I had considered burdening my husband with a crappy, cheaper stereo. So I swallowed my reluctance to spend so much money, and bought the stereo. I was sixteen.
I was raised to be a wife, the property of a husband.
I was cleaning up after dinner. Once again, my brothers had left their dishes on the table. “Mom,” I complained, “the boys haven’t put their plates in the dishwasher.”
“Just do it yourself,” said mom, “it’s good practice for when you’re a mom.”
I was raised to be a servant.
“You can’t wear sleeveless shirts,” said my dad, “Older men will look straight through to see your breasts.” And he lifted my shirt at the shoulder to prove his point.
“Honky tonk, badonkadonk,” sang my dad at me, as I walked past.
I was raised to be an object
“Mom, he won’t stop bothering me.”
“Work it out amongst yourself. Be the bigger person. Be loving, just take it.”
I was raised to be a doormat.
I was soon to graduate from homeschool. I had a ‘free-ride’ to college and I was taking it. My dad was talking with me about what major would most bless my husband. For awhile, he decided that maybe, since there was no husband present yet, i should major in something that would help him. He later recanted and moved back to choosing something to help my husband.
I wasn’t raised to be me.
So many homeschool girls are raised under sexist ideals, not to reach their full potential or to self actualize, but to have their personality absorbed by a future husband who may or may not even exist.
I’m on a journey to get rid of the lies that i need to be a doormat, be submissive, and be completely absorbed in my role as mother in order to be valuable as a person.
I’m not “Mrs. Luke Hobbs”. I am myself.