A Warrior Woman’s Path
by Colleen Flanagan
The phone rang at the usual time, yet I hesitated before picking it up. I knew who it was. He wanted an answer and wasted no time after we’d exchanged polite greetings.
“Have you given any more thought to moving to Asia with me?”
“Yes,” I replied, then took a deep breath. “And the answer is still no.”
“I’ll eventually get you to say yes, so you might as well say it now.” A deep chuckle echoed all the way from Thailand to Arizona. “We’re soul mates and belong together. I’m moving overseas, and so are you. Case closed.”
My rebellious nature bristled at his matter-of-fact smugness. I heard muffled, accented voices in the background and knew he was calling from work. He was always working.
“Hold on,” he said. “The operations group needs help.”
While my road warrior lover assisted clients in a computer room halfway across the globe, I dealt with the sick twisting of my stomach. The take-charge attitude I’d found so sexy in him now felt threatening. The kind, committed person I’d fallen for months ago had been replaced by this overpowering man who often changed our plans on his own whims, rarely consulting me. Even worse, I suspected that this new persona was the real him. After we’d met, he’d discovered what kind of a man I wanted in my life and then pretended to be him. Once I’d fallen in love, he began the slow, silent process of seizing all the power in our relationship.
My journaling over the last few weeks had helped me uncover the reasons for the niggling anxiety haunting me night and day. I’d always been an independent, assertive woman, yet at times this man treated me like a disobedient wife. Instead of arguing, I found it easier to go along with his agenda. The slow erosion of my power both disgusted and frightened me.
Did I have the courage to discuss my fears with him? “Go ahead and get it off your chest,” my mind taunted. “What’s the worst that can happen?” The scared, little girl inside answered immediately. “He’ll abandon me to pursue his adventures. If he really is my soul mate, I’ll have lost what could have been my last opportunity for real love…”
When he returned to the phone, I took a long sip from my coffee cup and spoke.
“Remember when you said that I could tell you anything?” At his assent, I continued. “I haven’t been feeling real good about ‘us’ lately, and have done a lot of soul searching. It seems that you find your self-worth in hunting and conquering people or things you find challenging. Like all those businesses you started, made a lot of money at, then sold because you got bored with them.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I agree. But, now that you’ve conquered me, and I’m in love with you, you’re moving on to another challenge, in Asia.”
“I’m a road warrior. That’s my nature. You were meant to be by my side as my mate, my warrior woman. Our paths have merged and we must now walk together. In Asia.”
“I don’t want to leave Arizona. I’ve told you that from the start.” (Then why is that sick, guilty feeling churning in my gut? Isn’t it my duty to leave my family and friends to live in a foreign country with my soul mate?)
Still holding the phone to my left ear, I opened my patio door and walked into the warm morning air. The mad chatter of hummingbirds fighting over the feeder in my backyard made it difficult to think. A gecko darted across my path and up the stucco wall. I couldn’t leave this magnificent state I’d called home for twenty years, but how could I explain this to him?
“This is the only place I’ve really felt comfortable.” I tried to appeal to his compassionate nature. “Like any desert creature, I’d wither and die if I was taken from my natural habitat.”
“Nonsense. Like me, you’re a survivor. You should be willing to travel with me, and hang your shingle below mine. There’s a quarter of a million dollars a year to be made in a virtually inexhaustible market over here…”
My mind drifted and I half-listened as he extolled the benefits of our move to Asia. Where did he get the notion that I’d pick up and follow him anywhere? The only moving we’d agreed upon was to a small town north of Phoenix, where he’d work from home as a software consultant, and I could write full-time. And what was this shingle-hanging crap?
Life had been so much simpler before this emotional roller coaster called “us.” The intense love—or was it infatuation?—kept me on an ecstatic high, but I hadn’t been able to write anything except journal entries. My novel and potential magazine articles sat neglected on my hard drive while I waited each day for my overseas love to call. I was letting the present slip by while I daydreamed about “our” future.
“…I might be able to get you a job, too. What do you think?”
“I think my shingle will only hang below yours. You used to refer to us as a team. It seems that you’ve quietly elected yourself the boss.”
“I’m the older, more experienced one. My shingle must hang on top. And alone.”
He spoke to me as an adult would admonish a child, and I felt angry. As a forty-four-year-old, self-made, professional woman, I expected nothing less than mutual respect from this person who claimed to be my true love. Hesitant to speak in anger, I remained speechless.
“Are you there?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I’m thinking about what you said and—”
“Hold on,” he interrupted. “I’ve got to check out a problem on a disk drive. In the meantime, why don’t you think about how great it would be to live here with me.”
With a clunk of the telephone receiver, he was gone again. His confident words had me picturing him grinning with that classic “I win again” look on his face. An aggressive entrepreneur, he conducted his life like a giant chess game, using real people as pawns. Conquest, his beloved Queen. I knew I would never dethrone her. The futility of the situation struck me solidly. I had no right to tell him how to run his life, nor had he any right to rule mine.
The sun’s warmth seeped through my clothes, relaxing my shoulders and back. I peered up at the clear blue desert sky. Freedom or security? Which will it be? A life here with myself, or as a road warrior’s woman, traveling and living in hotels while he achieves his next triumph? And what about my triumphs? Had I been fooling myself that this romance would work? Was I too blind in love to see that his offer of financial security, of being “taken care of” came with a ball and chain? Was I desperate enough to nurse it along, or brave enough to let it die, as it surely would?
The phone receiver clattered at his end, and I heard him barking orders to his “pawns.”
“I’ve gotta go, the system crashed.” Sheer excitement resonated in his voice. Another coup, another potential conquest, another call to action.
I’d had enough.
“I’ve gotta go, too.” My words came out in a whisper; then the warrior woman within me spoke boldly. “Permanently.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you ever get tired of finding your self-worth in the outside world and want to live in Arizona, give me a call. If I’m available, we’ll see how we feel about each other then.”
“Are you dumping me? I can’t believe you’re dumping me.”
“I can’t believe you thought you could change everything we’d agreed upon and expect me not to call you on it.” I caressed the golden velvet petals of a tender jasmine blossom. So fragile, so easily destroyed, yet strong enough to thrive on it’s own in the desert.
“You’re throwing away the love of your life, your warrior, your soul mate!”
“Maybe. Our time together was an experience I’ll never forget. Thank you for helping me recognize my warrior woman.” I felt a tiny grin tug at the corners of my mouth. “She’s become great friends with and the protector of my inner child.” His stunned silence energized me. I was reclaiming my power, for the first time in months.
“The difference between you and me is that I’m trying to conquer the challenges within me first. You’re looking to the outside world, when there’s still much to be done within.”
“This isn’t the end,” he growled. “I won’t let it end like this.”
“You have no choice. It’s over.” Hearing my own words and admitting the truth out loud hurt. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I’d be sobbing soon, and didn’t want him to know my pain. “Good-bye and good luck.”
I pressed the TALK button on my cordless phone, immediately severing our connection.
A dull ache constricted my chest and I forced myself to deeply inhale the warm, calming desert air. I was alone again.
I walked slowly down the meandering, tiled path of my meditation garden, past lush green jasmine vines awash in yellow flowers, pristine white daisies and lavender rose bushes. I plucked a daisy and tucked it behind my right ear.
Alone again. It wasn’t a bad thing at all.
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