***I do not go into details concerning my abuse. I focus on how the rules of complementarianism kept me in an abusive dating relationship. But if this is triggering for you, don’t read it. I understand. I was once there, too.***
There is so much evidence in The Making of Biblical Womanhood that illustrates how “biblical womanhood” was intentionally crafted. But my aim is not to persuade; my goal is to offer hope, as well as to help myself organize my deconstructed thoughts. And so I will end my blogs on this book with reflecting on another aspect of complementarianism that touched my life: abuse in dating relationships.
This was one of the hardest posts I’ve ever written. It took me weeks to be able to sort through the mess of memories and see where complementarianism reared it’s head. It was hard – but worth it.
Abuse and Complementarianism
At the end of her book, Beth Allison Barr writes about her experience in an abusive “courting” relationship.[1] She describes how complementarian theology reinforced the man’s abusive behavior. She points out,
“We can no longer deny a link between complementarianism and abuse. So much evidence now exists that John Piper, Al Mohler, and Russell Moore [leaders in the complementarian movement] have gone on the defensive, trying to proclaim how their ‘Christian patriarchy’ is different.”[2]
Naturally, my story is different from Barr’s. And yet, abuse is in my relationship history, too. My boyfriend wasn’t truly part of the church, and we certainly weren’t courting. He was familiar enough with Christian sayings that I believed at the time he was a Christian, and I think the church he was loosely connected with was evangelical.
All this to say, he would not have necessarily been abusive because of complementarian theology.
But…did my own understanding of complementarian theology persuade me to stay despite the abuse? It’s a question I’ve pondered a lot throughout this time. And the answer is yes. It absolutely did.
Dating and Complementarianism
After all my research, all I can say is that evangelical teachings are all over the place in many regards, especially in the Christian dating realm. We didn’t even cover purity culture in this deconstruction – which could be a whole other series in itself.
So, although my family didn’t “court,” there was still a cultural emphasis that dating was for marriage only. And because “courting” was an emphasis, some aspects of “courting” became entwined with what I did.
If I knew I could never marry someone, I didn’t date them. That’s fine in writing. But in reality, it meant that when I went on more than a few dates with a guy, it was tantamount to saying: “yes, I think I could marry you, if no big issues come up.” Which is basically courting.
And courting means that all the stuff complementarians say to do – like submit to your husbands – has its beginnings in the dating relationship. After all, why wouldn’t you start to submit? If you found it manageable, then you were clearly suited for each other; if you found it untenable, you could still leave, which wasn’t an option post-marriage.
I don’t think this was taught; but it is the logical conclusion of dating in complementarian circles.
But there is another aspect that is important in this discussion: a woman is taught that if she cannot submit, then it is most likely because she is seeking to usurp her husband’s control. A woman who did that was falling into the age-old sin begun in the Garden of Eden. Obviously, that was unacceptable – and the woman was encouraged to redouble her efforts to submit.
And in the hands of an abuser, that is a dangerous recipe.
Complementarianism Dating and Abuse
Despite my suspicions now, at the time I believed I was dating a believer. I believed marriage was the goal. He even said marriage was the goal. And I believed I should not only submit to my husband, but if I couldn’t, it was my fault for seeking control.
So I stayed. Because any believer should be able to marry any other believer. Granted, I didn’t hear that from the pulpit until after I was married to a loving man; but it was a feeling that permeated the Christian dating scene. (For the record, I STRONGLY disagree with that statement.)
It’s a recipe that leads to abuse. It’s a formula that keeps women in abusive relationships.
Complementarian theology kept me in an abusive relationship.
But like Barr, I miraculously got out. In both Barr’s and my cases, the abusive man didn’t call for several weeks. That time gave us the ability to break free.
I went through a lot of therapy. It tainted my senior year of college, derailing me from moving forward on my masters degree. I was already predisposed not to go for a masters since I only wanted to be a wife and mother; but this was the nail in that coffin. (Side note: I love being a wife and mother…but like I said in a previous blog, I’m so much more.)
My abusive relationship broke me in so many ways – ways that I’m still recovering from; ways I will never fully recover from.
And I had never directly tied it to complementarian theology; but once Barr did so, I couldn’t un-see it.
And Then There Was Andrew
I had a couple other relationships after college. Dating post-abuse was difficult, but I’d argue that dating had never been fun. It wasn’t about getting to know what you want and need in a partner. It was only about marriage compatibility. And as I mentioned, for the woman it meant determining if she could submit to the man.
And then I met Andrew. He was smart. He made me laugh. And he told me he had the social skills of a potato when it came to girls – which only made me laugh and like him more.
But I look back at our dating days with a twinge of sadness. It got very serious very quickly, and although I don’t regret that, I do regret that some of the fun was lost along the way.
Once married, our relationship was instantly easy – so much easier than dating! We laughed and joked and relaxed in the knowledge that all the stress of finding the right one was over.
But complementarianism still managed to rear its ugly head…
Complementarianism in Marriage
I worked at and attended another church before we were married – a church very dear to my heart. Andrew was working for the church I grew up in and went to small group at (they had a good singles group at the time). He had to belong to the church in order to work there; I didn’t have to belong to mine to continue working.
And because I believed I was now under his authority, I felt it was important that I also become a member of his church.
So I did. I knew a lot of people there, and as I mentioned in an earlier post, I was excited because a lot of us had gotten married around the same time. They even started a new Sunday School group for newly married couples. I was excited to be part of it.
But it wasn’t what I expected. The easy camaraderie we all had before getting married was gone. I felt like I didn’t know these women any longer. They seemed so…submissive. Like all their fire was gone.
Mine wasn’t. If anything, I felt as if my fire was returning through the comfort of marriage.
And then I realized that Andrew wasn’t getting any leadership positions within the group. That’s another strange thing about strict complementarian theology. A man should be a leader, not only of his family but in the church, too. If he wasn’t a leader in both places, then he wasn’t doing a good job.
But Andrew was doing a good job – which meant it must be me who wasn’t being a good enough wife. In my mind, people must have been able to see how I didn’t submit properly.
Looking back, that wasn’t the case. Andrew had no wish to be in leadership, and that’s probably what they sensed more than anything. I’m also sure that no one thought I was a bad or un-submissive wife.
But I’d internalized too much of complementarian thought to think otherwise.
Self-Inflicted Complementarianism
Under complementarian theology, married women are often told that if the man really feels strongly about something, they need to submit to his decision. Knowing this, I doubled down on myself, making sure I submitted everything to Andrew.
I asked his opinion about everything. From what to buy to what to cook for dinner. That’s not necessarily a bad thing to do; but I am a survivor of abuse. I was used to men saying one thing while meaning another, with myself bearing the penalty if I got it wrong. I doubted my own ability to make a decision, because what if he didn’t agree, and therefore I wasn’t submitting properly?
This is a legitimate and dire question for a survivor of abuse. The thing is, I wasn’t in an abusive relationship. (I wasn’t even in a complementarian one, although I thought I was.)
I know that every complementarian out there would say that my behavior was not what they preach. They would say that’s taking it too far. But after growing up with a fundamentalist attitude on submission, believing that women were always trying to usurp control, obsessing about how to submit better (OCD), and having a history of abuse….
What do you expect to happen?
Complementarianism didn’t cause or sustain abuse in my relationship with Andrew; but it reverted me back to a victim mentality. Slowly, I became a shell of myself.
Breaking Free
But Andrew was so, so different. So different, in fact, I worried I was turning him into an idol. I felt more of Christ’s love from Andrew than I did from God most days.
But that’s what I needed then. Andrew showed me Christ when the church had obscured Him.
Andrew knew I was struggling at the church, and we left as soon as he got a new job. But he’d only ever known me under the stress of dating and early marriage. And I didn’t have the words to describe what I was going through. I think we both felt that this was just who I was – an anxious person.
Interestingly, Andrew hadn’t grown up with complementarianism the way I had. (For that matter, I didn’t even grow up with complementarianism; my parents are definitely egalitarian.) Andrew had always treated me as an equal – but it wasn’t until I read Barr’s book the first time that I began to see myself as one, too.
I started with simply stating my opinion first. I started to say, “I think we should do ______. What do you think?” Nine times out of ten, he agreed – and usually the tenth time he just had a clarifying question. It was a small shift – I’m not even sure Andrew noticed.
But it was a major change for me.
It took me a little while to get the hang of it; sometimes I still struggle. But almost immediately, I felt myself begin to breathe again. My self-confidence returned. I knew my own mind again.
I started to break free.
Why Am I Writing This?
Complementarianism does not cause abuse; but it does help to sustain it. Women are so used to believing their voice isn’t worth hearing that they stay silent when things get bad. They’re so used to hearing that it’s because they can’t submit, so they stay.
Can you have a loving “complementarian” relationship? Sure. But I’d wager they’re honestly more egalitarian than complementarian. I’m convinced it’s those who are already vulnerable to abuse that truly try and apply strict complementarian theology to their lives. And they are the ones who suffer the most.
I’m so grateful for people like Beth Allison Barr who spoke out and helped me break free of theology that I believe runs contrary to God’s heart. At one point she says, “my daughter was free, but other women’s daughters were not.”[4]
She did this for women like me. And I am so, so grateful. Not only for myself, but for my children. I can raise my daughter and son to expect an equal and loving voice in their marriages. That is huge.
And because she helped me see how Jesus actually sets me free instead of silences me, I now feel compelled to speak out to set others free, too. I hope you find the courage to do the same.
Notes
[1] Beth Allison Barr, The Making of Biblical Womanhood: How the Subjugation of Women Became Gospel Truth (Brazos Press, 2021), 201-204.
[2] Ibid., 207.
[3] Barr, 204.
[4] Ibid., 216.
