A Letter to my Daughter: Submission is not a Dirty Word

As of today, I have one child, a daughter. But some day, I will have a set of confusingly-identical twin boys. And if I be so blessed, maybe even more daughters. This letter is for my daughter.

A Letter to my Daughter

My dear, Ada Verastic,

You have been born into a world that’s entirely different from mine, but it somehow comforts me to know that my mom felt the same way about the world I was born into. I don’t know what marriage will look like by the time you are ready to take that plunge – if you ever are, but I want to share with you something I have learned along the way: it turns out that submission is not the dirty word I thought it was.

My sweet child, submission to your husband is not servitude, nor is it slavery. If it ever feels like any of these, then you are doing it the wrong way.  Submission is how you show gratitude for honor. To be submissive, you have to first be honored. If any man tells you to submit to him because he is a man, please, my child, throw the whole man away. He is a man who does not understand his manhood or your womanhood; he still has a lot of growing up to do, and he has to do it without you.

Submission, my love, is like hot, spicy akara. Who doesn’t like hot, spicy akara – the kind that just got out of the boiling, murderous oil? Yes, that kind. That’s what submission is like. Now, the man that you submit to, however, is like the bread that goes with the akara. But here’s the catch: all breads are not created equally.

As I write this letter to you, my love, it has suddenly occurred to me that you have never actually experienced this wonder, so I am making a mental note to introduce you to the heaven-on-earth experience that is hot akara and bread. Otherwise, this analogy would be totally useless. And luckily for you, your mama makes some bad ass akara. You’ll love it, I promise.

Now, back to the analogy: all breads are not created equally. Hot akara and warm, freshly-baked agege bread in your mouth will make you praise your God. The same akara and a different type of bread – say wheat bread, for example – will not have the same effect at all. The akara is constant. Its taste does not change. It’s the bread that alters its taste in your mouth. The actual akara is wonderful.

Nne’m, the man you submit to is the bread. Make sure that he is agege bread, not wheat bread. Wheat bread is supposedly nice, for those who don’t mind the taste of cardboard, but it doesn’t go with akara. At all.

So, how do you know that a man is agege bread? Well, that’s the fun part. An agege bread kind of man is a leader. He proves over and over that not only can he lead, but that he can lead you. Picture this: when he shares an idea/plan with you? What is the first emotion that you feel? Excitement? Dread? Confusion? Hope?

Is he reckless with your life? Does he make decisions without considering how his decisions may affect you? Can you trust him to do what he’s supposed to do, when he’s supposed to do it, and how he’s supposed to do it? Or do you have to go in behind him – albeit secretly – to confirm that he completed the task? Do you constantly find yourself defending him in your own mind, trying to convince yourself that he is not as bad? Do you find yourself having to reduce your life to accommodate his? Is the man you are thinking about right now contrary to the man you fell in love with?

When he reaches his hand out to you, do you immediately place your hand in his? Or do you first look left and right to make sure there’s no car coming? And do you ask him where he’s taking you, why you’re going there, and how long you will stay there? Is he empathetic to your pain and struggles in life? Does he treat people in a way that warms your heart? Or do you secretly pray that he is never in a position of power because you know he will wipe the floor with people?  If you are filled with dread, confusion or any other negative emotion or if you regretfully answered any of these these questions in a way that makes you panic, then he is not agege bread. He is wheat bread. We do not want wheat bread.

Marriage is possibly one of the most difficult journies you will ever take, but it does not have to be so difficult. It can be – and should be – enjoyed, not endured. Marriage, by itself, is seamless. It’s the humans in it that make it difficult. Do not marry a wheat bread kind of man.  It will cost you less to avoid this marriage, than to fix it. Trust your mom, she knows.

Ada’m, like I mentioned earlier, an Agege bread man is a leader. He is a protector and a provider. He will cover you in many ways, but above all, he will cover you spiritually. He will go down on his knees for you, and he will take your name to the Lord in prayer. He will not compromise your safety or expose you to realms unknown to you because he will understand that you are his to protect, and that what happens to you also happens to him. He is not your God, and he can never be your God, but he will be another proof that there is a God, and that this God thinks of you very dearly.

When your man protects, leads, defends, covers, and provides for you, you will not be full of dread or questions when he comes up with an idea. You will know that he has proven several times that he is on your side, and that he is more than capable of doing his part and taking care of you. For such a man, you will crown him king, and you will gladly submit to him. But first, he must make you his queen.

Because Ada’m, you are a queen.

Love,

Mom.