Do You Need Permission for Strawberries and Cake Too?
Lately, I’ve been rattled. More than once in the past few weeks, I’ve been in conversations with women—friends, acquaintances, even new faces—and almost like clockwork, one of these phrases slips out:
“Oh, my husband will kill me if I buy this.”
“My husband will be mad if I get this.”
“I have to ask my husband if I can go.”
“I need to check with my husband before I buy that dress.”
And every time, I freeze. I’m thrown. My inside voice is screaming: Do you ask your husband if you can go to the ladies’ room? Do you text him for approval before you eat the strawberries and chocolate cake?
Because let’s be honest—he’s not asking you if he can swing a golf club on Saturday morning, light up that cigar, sip that bourbon, or order the latest shiny tech gadget for his car. He just does it.
And ladies, before anyone spins this into a conversation about biblical submission or household budgets, let me be clear. That’s not what I’m talking about. Of course couples should talk through major purchases. I’m not suggesting you swipe the AmEx on a brand-new car without so much as a “hey babe.” But that’s not what I’m hearing. I’m hearing hesitation and permission seeking over a lipstick. A dress. Take-out for dinner.
It disturbs me because it’s not just about money. It’s about ownership of your own personhood. You are a woman. You are a grown adult. You don’t need a permission slip to go to brunch with your girlfriends or buy yourself the sweater that makes you feel alive.
And I’ll tell you a secret, men might not like me for saying this. That’s fine. I don’t really care. Because I know my worth, and it doesn’t hinge on whether someone else grants me approval.
The Real Issue
What’s bothering me most is that I’m hearing these words more now than ever, women in their 30s, 40s, 50s, and beyond, tip-toeing as if their lives are subject to someone else’s rubber stamp. And the scary thing? Our children are watching. If we show them that women need clearance for everyday choices, what kind of role model are we being?
Let’s Be Real, Let’s Be Funny
So next time you hear yourself about to say, “I’ll have to ask my husband if I can…”—stop. Flip it. Imagine him calling you from the golf course: “Honey, is it okay if I play another nine holes? Is it okay if I grab a bourbon?” You’d laugh him right off the phone.
So laugh at yourself too. Shake it off. Buy the darn lipstick. Order the takeout. Say yes to the brunch invite.
Final Thought
You are not a side character in someone else’s life. You’re the leading lady in your own. And leading ladies don’t wait for permission to eat strawberries and chocolate cake. They order dessert first.