2. Taking it slow

At eighteen I met my husband and the first couple of years were heaven, well mostly anyway. I became almost (gulp) feminine. I loved wearing dresses and putting makeup on for him and even, dare I admit, felt an intense surge of feminine power the day my natural wiggle got him out of work six hours early! I was on top of the world; I realized I could be a girl even if I did throw a football better than my husband.

Then life happened and stress landed on our doorstep; neither one of us handled that very well and our relationship started going downhill. For years we pulled ourselves back up by our boot straps and things would be just peachy… for a little while. I forgot all about being a girl, I turned back into that wanna-be super hero female warrior, better than all men. For fourteen years we struggled with my need to prove myself better than everyone, including my husband (I was sure he was at fault for everything.) Every couple of months things would take a downward spiral and I would tell my husband I was leaving… again, which is what I was doing a month ago.

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