This morning, I closed the book on Christian and Anastasia Grey. It has been a sweet ride. I truly enjoyed these indulgent quick reads and got caught up in the flurry of the fantasies, the questions, the ideas and the psychology.
I’m not afraid to admit it.
For me, reading a good book, any good book, is like a vacation. It’s an escape, a journey, an adventure. I see new places, meet new people and imagine new experiences. All of which enhance my own life and open my eyes to new ways of looking at things.
As I sat outside in the windy morning, eating breakfast with my lovely husband, I remarked that one of the universal truths I took away from the Fifty Shades trilogy was this: the smarter, stronger and more independent the woman, the more she wants to be taken care of. And the big secret is, we feel we can’t admit to this.
Don’t tell me I can’t work. Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t tell me I can’t anything.
But be concerned about me. Worry about me. Open doors for me, and check in on me. Notice when I’m feeling weak or disquieted or unsure of myself and love me more for it.
Because the deepest, darkest secret of strong women is that showing weakness or insecurity will send everyone running.
Wanting to be cherished, treasured, protected, we all want this. And it does not fly in the face of women’s liberation or feminism, not one bit. I want to work, but I don’t want to have to. I want options. I want equality, but not all the time.
That’s one huge thing that these books are about, at least for me. It is the stark and very real realization that strength’s surreptitious counterpart is weakness. This book presents in the first volume that pain and pleasure are compatriots, opposites that share a spectrum. It’s a heady concept.
Well, strength and weakness are too – and the strongest man can be the neediest, while his under-the-thumb over-controlled wife can be the strongest. That’s compatibility. You can’t have one without the other.