- My wife and I have been together for 15 years, and part of our success is alternating who leads.
- We call it "boss time," in which one of us tells the other what to do while helping with a task.
At the beginning of our
A culinary-school graduate with a commanding personality, Kristen spoke with authority and acted with efficiency. In other words, she was bossy. It was obvious that my culinary skills were no match, but I stubbornly balked at her direction rather than defer to her expertise. She only grew more impatient with my plodding pace.
We quickly found ourselves competing for control. Yet our power struggle didn't reflect the egalitarian principles we valued, especially as a same-sex couple that shirked traditional gender roles. So instead, we decided to alternate who gets to lead in our relationship so that we both feel equally in charge. It's been a game changer.
Learning to share power
One day, rather than fight my wife for equal footing in the kitchen, I suggested that I be her sous-chef: I would play second-in-command to her executive status. Instead of pretending an imbalance didn't exist or trying to alter the fact, we embraced it.
I simply did her bidding. It was almost like dominant-submissive role-playing, outside the bedroom. Instead of reacting from a place of insecurity over my incompetence, I found relief in letting go. Equanimity was restored.
Implementing 'boss time'
Based on our success, we developed what we affectionately call "boss time" — a creative strategy to diffuse power dynamics. We routinely set aside time — an hour up to, on the rare occasion, an entire day — when one of us creates the agenda while the other is the designated assistant.
Sometimes the "boss" delegates multiple tasks. Sometimes they want support with a bigger project, such as organizing the basement closet. The important thing is to let one's partner lead. It's a generous act that builds trust, but it requires a willingness to surrender.
Kristen grew up on the family farm where we live, and she knows it's unlikely that I'll ever drive a tractor or wield power tools. So she doesn't assign me chores that require them. I'm more detail-oriented and methodical, traits she recognizes as ideal for meticulous duties, such as record-keeping or even pulling weeds.
It works best when we play to each other's strengths. The point is to support one another with fairness, not to be unreasonable.
Trying different approaches
While boss time has proved to be a fun way to get stuff done, it doesn't always require a to-do list. In broader terms, we think of it as practice taking turns. For instance, on walks along a rural road, we sometimes alternate who initiates the conversation. During the first half of our 3-mile route, one of us gets permission to unload what's on her mind while the other listens. Then, turning around at a stop sign, we switch.
Boss time has taught us to soften our stance and be more open to each other's preferences and imperfections. If Kristen feels the urge to seize the remote control, she's more likely to say, "Hey, you pick the movie tonight." If I'm taking up space expressing emotions, I may ask, "Do you have room for me to share my feelings right now?"
After 15 years together, I'm sure this willingness to yield only strengthens our relationship. Now, when Kristen shows me how to properly julienne carrots, I no longer feel annoyed or belittled. And whenever it's my turn to play chief operating officer, she asks, "What can I do for you?"
Nicole R. Zimmerman is a queer California-based writer who believes sustainable love is possible, no matter how you identify. Her work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, The Rumpus, and Creative Nonfiction, among others. She holds an MFA from the University of San Francisco and leads workshops using the Amherst Writers & Artists method. Find more of her work here.