Surrender
When we are underwater together, the word loses its sting, and I finally get everything I secretly want without having to ask for it.
Last week, I wrote that I over-identify with my masculine energy, doing everything, seizing control, being hyper-competent, and insisting on being low-maintenance. At 53, it’s left me tired and resentful. So, I’m calling in my feminine energy, which allows me to be cared for, feel prioritized, and be cherished. I told my husband that going forward, I want to feel safe and protected BY HIM. He heard me. He understands the assignment. Now I have to surrender to his care and attention.
I love being underwater with my husband, snorkeling or scuba diving. Yes, the sea life and coral are lovely, but there’s something more I’m chasing.
Total surrender.
My husband is a certified Scuba Rescue Diver, one step below a Dive Master. I was a lifeguard in my teens and have a scuba certification, but in the ocean, I defer to his expertise.
I allow myself to defer to his expertise.
For my 40th birthday, I asked him to take me diving. I didn’t ask for expensive jewelry, a romantic trip, or a birthday party requiring multi-level planning and attention to detail, hit-or-miss guessing about who to invite and what kind of cake to order.
I wanted to feel young and adventurous, pushed a little out of my comfort zone. I wanted a challenge that he could guide me through. We chose to do my first wreck dive on a World War II ship, 45 feet down in the Florida Keys.
I chose total surrender to his care.
He researched and found the dive company. He made the reservations and planned the early morning departure from my parents’ house, where the kids would be looked after.
At the dock, he meticulously checked my rented suit and gear. He double-checked that my tank was full and the pressure gauge was accurate.
On the dive boat, he checked that my BCD, regulator, and secondary “octopus” were all secure and operational. He carried his emergency knife and discussed the dive plan with the dive master.
Underwater, he used my tank straps to pull me close, checked everything on me again, and signaled that I needed to give him a thumbs up before we could proceed. We hold hands underwater, he uses it to direct my attention to anything interesting that he sees, a sea turtle, a moray eel, a school of fish. He signals for me to give him a thumbs-up every five minutes and keeps readjusting my BCD because I’m too buoyant and tend to float up. When he does this, we face each other, making eye contact through our masks as he looks for clues to my comfort and enjoyment.
I can think of no other time when he is so acutely aware and responsible for my life and my comfort.
When we are underwater together, I can surrender. The word loses its sting, and I finally get everything I secretly want – without having to ask for it.
Attention.
Protection.
The feeling of being cherished.
Cared for.
Underwater, his training kicks in and he leans into all his responsibilities.
All I have to do is receive and let go of all the over-functioning I do on land.
In a non-gendered way, he is in his masculine energy and I am in my feminine – in all those cheesy ways described in romance novels. And it feels so good!
Writing this, I realized that my birthday dive, was not about indulging in some anti-feminist, high maintenance version of myself. It was about replenishing a deficit left from all the years of meticulous care and attention I gave to our children, our home, and our goals.
On that trip, my daughters would have been 12 and 7. My husband, still commuting into the city for work, leaving home at 7am, returning 12 hours later. Our world rested on my ability to cope and manage whatever came up during the day. My competence, my ability to manage a crisis big or small - was at a premium.
My “well” at 40 was likely empty - or close to it.
Perhaps unconsciously, I chose to lower myself into 45 feet of water, a barrier between me and a world I needed a break from.
Unconsciously, I chose total surrender to my husband’s care.
In the 13 years since, I have often dipped back into my memory of that day and how I felt. Only now do I recognize it was a sign post, pointing me us towards a better balance that I wanted all along.
With joy,
Do you have a vivid memory of a very good day that you dip into during difficult times? Could there be wisdom in it waiting to be discovered?
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I am 40, have two girls, and felt this deeply... Especially the line, "Our world rested on my ability to cope and manage whatever came up during the day."
I recently went back to my childhood home for a friend's baby shower, and outside of the event, I just rested. I let my dad make coffee for me and my mom drive me to Target. How wonderful it can feel to have someone else take the wheel...if even briefly.
I felt the beauty and intimacy of your experience under water. How brave of you to ask for what you needed. Thanks for sharing Renee.❤️