The Protector

It’s date night and my husband and I sneak off for a really good hamburger and a really big bag of popcorn topped off with a coke the size of a garbage can. We are watching the new Robin Hood movie mainly because I’m hoping that Russell Crowe will be “Gladiator” hot in this movie instead of “State of Play” hot where is body had gone to pot but he was still intellectually stimulating.


As the movie progresses, I catch myself being pulled in to the love story between Robin Hood and Maid Marion. All love stories pull me in—I’m a chick, but this one is different. Marion has been on her own for ten years, in charge of a large farm and equally large group of people and she is more than capable of the task. Shortly after Robin Longstride arrives and assumes the role of her husband, we see Marion begging the Friar to return the seed that the church has collected as a tax. She argues that her people will starve if there is nothing to plant. She appeals to his heart in every way she can, but he won’t listen. Heartbroken, she rides away but Robin promptly leans over and threatens to tell the church about the Friar’s extracurricular activities unless he hands over the seed. That night Robin and his men take the seed and plant the fields that Marion has painstakingly prepared for planting. When Marion wakes, she finds Robin sleeping in front of the fire his face sweaty and his clothes dirty. The look of love on her face reveals every woman’s heart. It says, while I am completely capable of handling everything on my own, I don’t want to. What I really want is someone to take care of me. Be my protector.

I love men. Somewhere deep in the sole of every man is the need to be a provider and a protector. When men embrace their essence, they shine. As women, we have fought long and hard for equal opportunities and we deserve them but we still need men. I wish all men understood just how much. If they did, I think there would be less affairs and broken homes. When I watch news stories about another girl being hurt at the hands of her boyfriend, I wonder why we are having such a hard time teaching our sons their role in the lives of women. Maybe it’s because we don’t let men know how much we love them for being men. Today I am going to let my husband fill my car with gas and I’m going to thank him for doing it. I am going to ask my son to hold open the door for me and for the woman coming in behind me. If the battle for equality has taken something away from our men, I want to give it back. I want them to know that I need good men and I am now recommitted to teaching my sons how to become good men.