Expectations

John and I had a fight last night that made me take a hard look at my expectations for myself in our marriage. A college friend of ours just accepted a job in our area, and started moving into her apartment last night. We were there to help her, and we ended up migrating into her bathroom (it's big, and right now it has the best lighting and places to sit). She made a comment about her towel rack, and John said something to the effect of "the only towel rack I need is the shower curtain bar."

The conversation continued as follows:
Me: "Well, I want you to use the towel rack."
Him: "Why? Give me one good reason why it's different."
Me: "It looks less cluttered. Things have a place, and that's not it."
Him: "Since when have we cared about cluttered? Look at my room! Look at yours!" (To be fair, he has a point).
Me: "Things are going to be different, because that will be our home. I want to keep it nice."
Him: "You didn't care at [names the apartments we lived in in college]."
Me: "Those were dorms."
Him: "I give this three weeks."

I was really offended. When I stopped to look at why, I realized that even though I would never expect another woman to keep her home spic & span, I expected it from myself. In my mind, to be the perfect wife I would have to learn to be superwoman: keep the home clean, cook, maybe do laundry, be the breadwinner, be a perfect hostess, and make and help raise beautiful kids. (Being a tiger in the bedroom is also part of it, but that's irrelevant to this post). His comment that he didn't think I was capable of doing this was extremely cutting.

I know I don't need to do all this. John's told me he does not expect this from me at all. I know he's there to help me. But part of me still thinks I need to be the perfect 1950s wife, along with holding a job and bringing in a strong income. At least I've acknowledged I have this view, and that's the first step towards fixing it...