All for a bubble bath?

It’s funny, the things we take for granted on a daily basis, isn’t it? I was walking to work yesterday thankful for my legs as they carried me down the street. I was thankful for my sunglasses protecting my eyes not from the sun, but the Chicago wind that blasts through the building making my eyes water and my mascara run. I was thankful for my train ride and being able to have time to knit my hubby a scarf (although I spend more time unknitting my mistakes since knitting on the train is not as easy as it sounds!) And I’m thankful for the bath I took Sunday night.

Normally taking a bath is no big thing, right? You fill the tub with hot water, add some bubbles, get in and soak, piece of cake. Not for this girl. Baths were just something I avoided. The thought of sitting in a tub of water, naked, made me nauseous. Until Sunday.

Much of my childhood is missing. There are huge chunks of time that are simply not in my memory. Although there were plenty of great and joyful times, my childhood is also full of trauma. It was very hard to feel safe in the environment I grew up in for a number of reasons. I have chosen not to dwell on the missing memories. They will come when they need to and I do not feel a need to push or to find out the details. I know what happened, have spent time in therapy and worked hard to get past the demons. It is a battle I fight every day. Most days I win in a big way, but every once in a while, so do they. Those days are not pretty.

Baths were not something really associated my past experiences. Thinking about it this weekend, I realized it was the thought of being so vulnerable. I mean think about it. In a tub you are at your most vulnerable. You are naked, usually against a wall, in a seated position. Not exactly a position of power, now is it? There are enough places in my daily life where I’m vulnerable to those sneaky demons that I just never felt the need to voluntarily put myself in that position. I can get just as clean standing in the shower.

When we moved into my husband’s home, my daughter was excited about the whirlpool tub in the master bath. Now for her, life couldn’t get much better. For me? I could have cared less. But then the weather changed, and as I faced my first Midwest winter the thought of submersing myself into a tub of hot water at the end of a long day and train ride suddenly didn’t sound so bad. So I put on my armor and went to battle to beat this demon. All for a bubble bath.

But, I didn’t fight this one alone. My sweet, caring and thoughtful husband stayed beside me the whole way. He cleaned the tub, and together we took it apart the jets and such to ensure it was totally cleaned since it had not been used in a very long time. Then we walked away from it for a while. Even though I tried to not think about it, I could feel the panic of being so vulnerable eating at me. It made for a very uncomfortable day. I was edgy, moody and high strung. Finally, that evening, I stood and just said. “ I’m going to run a bath. “

With the hot water running into the tub, I tried to think of all the things that make a bath relaxing. I dimmed the lights, lit candles, opened the shower curtain all the way and even squirted some bubble bath in the stream of water. My heart was pounding as I stripped off my clothes and stepped in.

I have to admit the water felt pretty good. It had been a very long time since I sat in a tub. Like decades. As I sat there the panic started to set in, so as calmly as I could, I asked my hubby to come and keep my company. He sat down and smiled at me, and the panic dissipated. He sat there and just talked to me, keeping his distance but calmly telling me he loved me, that I was safe and that I could just relax. I believed him.

Although I didn’t completely relax, I forced myself to stay there much longer than I thought I would. We talked about silly stuff and he even knelt down beside me and washed my back. It was an incredible moment for me because I was able to just enjoy it. Enjoy him and enjoy our time together. I didn’t panic, didn’t freak out. All I had to do was look into his eyes and I could see just how safe and loved I was and am. A quiet battle was won.

Taking care of those we love should not be one of the things we take for granted on a daily basis. It should be savored and cherished because it is those little things we do for each other that mean the most.