We all need a home, a safe haven.
I way laying on my bed only yesterday and looking up at a picture that I have always detested- a sentimentalised Victorian painting of a fairy.
This painting had looked down on me each night since my divorce. I had bought the picture with my own money, and also framed it myself in return for some peace from my former wife.
I leaped from the bed and smashed the picture.! We think that the small things in our life are not important- we allow women to choose the colour scheme of our home and the furniture because we like to please them. Gradually we find ourselves living in another persons home. Our careers, our finances and even our clothing come to be managed by women, and each area we give up diminishes our safe haven- and diminishes us.
We believe that there will come a point when the woman will at last be satisfied- but this never happens. She will insist that we carry a mobile phone to check upon our whereabouts as if we were subject to a criminal tagging scheme! If we submit to this (and very many men do) we will eventually find that we are no longer masters of our own movements.
Along with a reduction in his physical Safe Haven comes a reduction in his sense of himself. He will be 'less himself' and more easily influenced. This is one reason cults and military organizations restrict personal space- by doing so they suppress the individuality of the recruit.
I built the prison that I lived in.
I have replaced her picture with one that reminds me of Kew, a place that I love, and my mother loved before her death.
These little touches of identity give me peace.