No Way to Treat a Lady

The stress has reached monumental proportion, as of late, in this divided house.  It began last Friday afternoon, as Shabbat was approaching.  Let me clarify, in a divided house, there is always a certain level of stress, but this past week . . . Oy Vey!  And there has been absolutely no one who would understand, if I tried to share my feelings of disappointment.  I've tried to share my concerns of this division with a few, along the way, but Mr. B can be likable.  How well I know that . . . I used to like him.  At any rate, it's not about a popularity contest, or even being honest or hypocritical with others.  It's just become a situation that really can't be discussed with anyone on earth, and that's okay.  Our Heavenly Father is well aware of the situation and I can pour my heart out to Him . . . and I do.

The past week was particularly difficult, in that the only time Mr. B spoke to me, was in front of others.  So the tension when we are alone is intense and has affected me.  This is where I don't sound so good in the story.  Father told me a couple of months ago that I resented Mr. B, and I realized I truly did.  All of the people who come here are my guests and he takes it upon himself to invade my time and space with people I like.  It used to be worse before I began homesteading, in that I was fairly high profile in that town, and he vied for every opportunity to be in the spotlight.  I didn't mind that so much, as I really don't care for the spotlight.  I do appreciate the fact that he, at least, does have "good guest manners," but the brat in me doesn't want to share my friends with him.  Sharing the spotlight was fine, but not my friends.  I've gotten to the point in this division that has endured well past a decade, I don't want to share time with him.  I do try to find things to appreciate about him, and he has gotten more involved in the maintenance of this homestead, but his involvement at this point just doesn't really touch me in a positive way.  That is my fault.  I've come to the point in life, I prefer no interaction with him, other than to prepare his meals and do his laundry.  Thankfully, ten acres affords us the space to work independently.

Stress is not good for MS, and the regular level of stress that I live with daily in this divided house has taken it's toll, for much longer than the past week.  Although I'd like to look Mr. B in the eyes and belt out the words to Helen Reddy's song, This Ain't "No Way to Treat a Lady," I can't.  His apathetic expression would only heighten my stress level and my potential response would undoubtedly require repentance.  I have to look at the woman in the mirror and repeat that song to myself.  Allowing another human being to define me and affect my atmosphere, my health, and my attitude is my problem.  It's also very unpleasing to my Heavenly Father, and my responsibility to change - repent.  Now here I have to repent and I didn't even say what was bouncing in my head . . .

Royalty establishes the atmosphere and I am a daughter of the King of the universe.  What have I been thinking to have allowed this?  He's treated me as an afterthought, or worse, since shortly after the marriage.  I'm not for a moment suggesting that I should be disrespectful to Mr. B., but the days of me allowing his opinion of me to define me, are over!  The days of his resentful attitude controlling the atmosphere of this home have come to an end.  Considering the spiritual division between us, now, it only makes sense that we'd have opposing views of everything.  It's a well known fact, women are to "create" the environment of the home . . . home and hearth are in the hands of women.  That isn't feminism or ERA, it's Proverbs 31.  So, as I prepare for Shabbat, I'm preparing meals, scrubbing floors, and straightening my crown.