Twice my husband left me. The first time, he moved months ahead of our family to attend Chicago's most prestigious business school. I was pregnant with our third child. The second time, he moved months ahead of us to Toronto, accepting what we both considered an irresistible career opportunity. I stayed behind with the five little ones—and the responsibilities.
Our arrangement could illustrate the burden of complementarian theology. Men are imagined leading in their marriages and churches, fleet-footed after their dreams. Women are pictured trailing behind, bedraggled with the demands of self-sacrifice. I sometimes can't help wondering if the stereotypes are true.
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