I am a fairly independent kind of woman. However, I spent last year not working and not having my own money which made me feel completely strange and rather worthless even though my husband reassured me taking a break and getting healthy was well earned. We got married and I dissolved my bank accounts, all except one credit card which is now practically paid off. Other than 2012 I have worked since 1987.
Part of not working felt fantastic, I admit it. It felt wonderful to not have the stress and responsibility a job puts on and working on myself in every way was wonderful. Not having a concern was therapeutic for a while.
I knew it would not be forever though. Just knowing myself, I’d have to start pulling my own weight with the finances soon. Not pitching in on bills and adding to investment and holiday funds would eventually start to grate on me. Well, it did so when we found out we were moving to Japan. I put it in the universe’s hands that if a job came available that fit my needs and skills I would jump on it. I wanted part time and hopefully something that helps people, otherwise I would end up volunteering somewhere like Red Cross. I will confess, part of me hoped nothing would be available for a while so I could just go explore and enjoy Japan but at the same time I knew exploring and trips cost money and didn’t want to add to our debt without being able to help pay it off as well. The perfect job came about and I am now working and earning my keep. I have my own bank account again and feeling better about helping out.
That all being said, I’ve got absolutely nothing against stay at home moms/wives, in fact I quite enjoyed it and it wouldn’t be hard to take on that role if I could find a decent volunteer position. I don’t condone those who don’t occupy themselves with more than idle gossip but those who contribute and live purposefully are ace in my book.
This is all leading up to a strange feeling I had yesterday of needing to be held and cared for, loved on for a bit. Not sure why but every now and then I just need to feel completely taken care of and my husband obliges without hesitation. Last night he made dinner and we cuddled on the couch for a while-which practically never happens because he is a furnace and I am sensitive to heat…I like a nice cool room with a breeze/fan on constantly. But, last night his heat didn’t bother me, in fact it made me drowsy so we crashed early.
I think it’s perfectly acceptable for an independent woman to need to be soft, mushy and cared for at home. It is also a feeling of home that creeps up on me, knowing that I am where I should be and with the person who cares most for me and has my very best interest at heart.