What I learned from my husband
Nate and I riding down from the top of Mt. Haleakala.
When Nate and I were but tiny little babies in his first year of med school and my 3rd year in grad school, we decided to train for a triathlon. You know, the kind of things you do together before you have babies and careers.
A triathlon consists of a swim, a bike and a run. Running and swimming were pursuits I'd developed enough to feel comfortable with, but road biking was a whole new challenge. Nate however had been road biking for years and was immediately comfortable on long training rides. He would ride behind me and my borrowed 10 speed on the backroads of Missouri, where we lived at the time.
On our first training ride, everything started off fine on the main road with a large shoulder to pedal in. Then we peeled off onto the backroads with just a yellow line next to the grass. No shoulder. I stuck to the edge of that line like I was riding my bike on a tightrope.
The only word I have to describe how I felt when cars slipped past me on those narrow roads was terrifying. I swear the third car that passed me almost clipped my elbow with their mirror. I pulled into the grass and got off my bike, peeling my cramping, hands off the handlebars.
"I can't do this." I breathed to Nate. "Those cars are going to hit us! This isn't worth it. I'm walking home."
Nate took my shoulders and looked into my eyes. He's always so calm and reassuring that it's almost annoying. But in this moment, it was what I needed most.
"Celeste, please listen to me. I need you to take up space."
"What? What do you mean? There is literally no space! No shoulder to ride in!"
"On these roads, you have to ride inside the lane. It's just as much for bikes as it is for cars. Ride almost halfway in the lane so that cars notice you and have to carefully pass in the other lane. Make them see you. Take up space. It is the only way you are going to get home."
I'd never seen him give me directions so earnestly. Damn.
"Okay. Okay. I can do that."
We set off again. I immediately steered into the lane, inching into a space usually occupied by cars. It was still scary, and part of me hated making people have to wait until they could pass me safely, but it absolutely worked. And anytime I slipped into my old, scared habit of riding on the yellow line, I'd hear Nate behind me with the reminder.
"Get in the lane! TAKE UP SPACE!"
Nate believed in me so early on. Not just on our training rides but in my career and in my ability to be a mom. He's always encouraged me to take up space, something that men are conditioned to do, and women are not. I've always been thankful and grateful how early on he realized he could use his privilege to help me embrace an idea that's not naturally taught to me but every bit as mine as it is his.
Whether I'm pitching to be a TEDx speaker, putting my sometimes controversial views on social media or negotiating pay on a contract, I often think of this advice and I hope you can embrace it too.
My darling. Take up space. This lane is meant for you, and it will get you home.
TAKE. UP. SPACE.
Rooting for you.
Celeste
We've taken a journey this month through the lens of men and how men are taught to think about sex. It has been an absolute delight and an honor to sit and listen to men for the last 10 years. I say honor because in a world where men are not encouraged to be vulnerable, I'm in the rare position of providing a place where men can offer up their most vulnerable self to have honest conversations about sex with their partners. I've learned much about what they say is difficult, what they find confusing and how they have learned to navigate emotional pain.
If you want an insider's look into what men say and need (outside of societies' constructs for them) I want to invite you to my next webinar. Use the button below to sign up.
SPOTLIGHT
Author, activist and creator of Patriarchy Blues and Your Black Friend, Fred gives perspectives of friendship between white and black folks, and how to navigate it well. He is proud that his books are banned, which I love.