Friday, August 6, 2010

Appreciation

I used to roll my eyes at a friend of mine and her husband. Whenever they would drive somewhere he would open the car door for her before she got into the car. Being the "independent" woman that I thought I was, this always seemed a little chauvinistic. I mean, I can open my door myself, I don't need some man to do it for me. Now, I'm not saying that my friend's husband was doing this because he thought she was incapable of such things or that he is chauvinistic - I'd actually say that he is quite the opposite and very supportive of my friend - but it simply was not a practice I ever saw myself participating in. Basically, I thought it was cheesy to do it every time she got in the car, and while I love to eat cheese, I am not always a fan of watching it play out before me.

This gesture was something that I declared I would not want to be done for me all the time and I told Eddie just as much when we started talking last May. He responded that he thought it was weird that a guy wouldn't open the door of the car. So when we met in person for the first time and he opened the door for me it was weird. We laughed and joked about it but he continued to do it. Now it is normal practice and if he doesn't open the door (which happens on occasion) it's weird. I've started to take it for granted that he'll be there to open the door for me - even though I sometimes have to roll my eyes at how cheesy we are with each other.

I was thinking about this the other day when I read an article from Time magazine about violence against women in Afghanistan. The picture with the story shows a woman who had her nose and ears cut off by her husband because she ran away from him and his relatives, all of who beat her. The article goes on to talk about different instances of women being abused and mistreated and how the country has changed since the Taliban was taken out of power. One woman who grew up in Canada has returned and now has a talk show (in one place they said to think Oprah meets Hannah Montana). She had a guest who told a joke about a small Afghan town where a woman was seen walking in front of her husband down the street. This was odd because the Taliban required that women walk six steps behind their husbands. When the man in the joke was approached by foreign relief workers to be congratulated on his progressive thinking they were told that the area was a mine field so he forced his wife to walk in front of him.

Even though this story is a joke and isn't necessarily real, I have to wonder if it isn't based on reality in some way. I was left with chills as I finished the article and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my husband. My husband opens doors for me. My husband walks between me and traffic. My husband doesn't want me taking the dog outside when it is dark out. My husband protects me and keeps me from harm - even when we both know I can take care of myself. He cares for me and loves me and would do anything for me. Even in his dreams this is true (last night he had a dream that I was bit by a zombie and he stayed with me and the rest of the zombies instead of going off to a safer area with the uninfected people). He is amazing and even after being married for only two months I take that for granted sometimes.

I was humbled after reading the Time article. There are such horrible things happening in the world and I should not diminish the things that are good. It may be cheesy when a guy opens a door for his wife or girlfriend and it may be ridiculous or seem old fashioned and chauvinistic of him to step in harms way to protect her but that is how it should be. I'm not just talking about men treating women well, but women treating men well - people in general treating other people well. Genuine love and kindness in the world can be a rare thing to find and it should be embraced - not mocked - when it is found. I worry about the world that my children will grow up in but am glad to know that their father will be there to set a good example for them even if I do roll my eyes on occasion.

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