For the woman learning some standards need defending, some need adjusting, and some deserve a second look.

---

Last night I was standing in the shower looking at two towels hanging over the side of my bathtub while I was washing my hair.

My husband intruded.

Those dirty already?

As if I’d committed some sort of bathroom crime.

Yeah.

They’re dirty.

I like a fresh towel every couple days.

Two.

Maybe three.

After that I start thinking about dead skin cells.

I don’t know if that’s scientifically accurate.

I think I read it once in a Facebook post.

You’re supposed to wash your towels.

Change your sheets.

Be a functioning adult.

This is what growing up was all about.

My husband will use the same towel for a week or two.

Maybe longer.

If I didn’t change them.

This is a man who thinks he has OCD.

Who clips his nails.

Files his nails.

Uses mouthwash twice a day.

Brushes his teeth with a timer.

For the full amount.

Morning and night.

A man who stands in the bathroom butt naked with his left leg propped up on the same bathtub holding my dirty towels while flossing his teeth.

Everything is hanging out.

Just out there.

Participating in the same oxygen I’m inhaling.

Nothing about that is attractive.

I love my husband.

Handsome man.

Beautiful face.

Gorgeous blue eyes.

Nobody needs that visual before morning caffeine.

This same man wipes down the kitchen counters with the same rag he washes the dishes with every time he passes through the kitchen.

Which I don’t think is sanitary.

We’ve argued about that approximately eight thousand times.

He also washes dishes by hand because he thinks it’s cleaner than the dishwasher.

I think the dishwasher was literally invented to solve this problem.

He disagrees.

This argument is probably fifty-fifty.

This is also the same man who stands on one foot when he gets out of the shower and dries between every single toe.

One toe.

Then the next toe.

Then the next toe.

Ten times.

Who does that?

I don’t think I’ve dried my toes once in my entire life.

And then he’ll use that same towel again and again and again.

Until I wash it.

Or change it out.

We all have our things.

Our tendencies.

The things we find important.

Gross.

Dirty.

Frustrating.

Easy.

Hard.

Too much work.

Not enough.

Everybody is different.

What is cheap?

What is expensive?

What is hard work?

What is a reasonable amount of time?

What is subject to change?

What is not?

What is flexible?

What is too much?

What is honest?

What is a lie?

What is a fib?

We all have different perspectives.

Different ranges of...

Wait.

Hold up.

Stop.

You are crossing the line there, chica.

Our definitions are ours.

We have the right to define them.

Redefine them.

Stand on them.

Honor them.

No matter what they are.

They are ours.

Our terms and conditions.

Our non-negotiables.

And they’re ours to review at any given time.

I think the most important ones are the ones we can look at and say:

Yeah.

That one needs some refining.

That one needs some breathing room.

That one needs some adjusting.

That one hurts.

But it ain’t wrong.

It ain’t fully right either.

I need to adjust the belt a little.

One percent to the left.

Two percent to the right.

Maybe two days.

Maybe three.

But by that fourth day it’s time to rinse it.

Clean it.

Adjust it.

Maybe once a week instead of every two days.

There’s always room for flexibility.

For agility.

There’s always room for review.

And improvement.

As long as you’re willing to look at yourself and accept the wiggle room.

Accept that it doesn’t always have to be this way or that way.

So rigid.

With a clenched fist.

Things are allowed to change.

Whether it’s the sheets.

Or the towels.

His mind.

Or your mind.

But most importantly your point of view.

Your energy.

Your attitude.

Your heart.

Your beliefs.

And the way you decide to show up for the next move.

Because that move won’t just affect you.

It affects every decision that comes after it.

At least that’s what I was thinking about while staring at two towels hanging over the side of the tub.

The towels got washed.

The sheets will get changed.

And every now and then it’s probably worth checking if your perspective needs the same thing.

---

Robyn Lynn Tanner is the creator of I Changed the Sheets Today, a weekly essay series for high-capacity rebel women in the strange space between who they survived and who they’re returning to. She is the author of The Machete Mentality, founder of The Edit, and creator of the 500 by 50 Mission. She writes about identity, faith, self-abandonment, decision, and the deeply inconvenient work of telling the truth. FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM AT @robynlynntanner