Leslie Caccamese always prided herself on her independence and autonomy. Falling in love forced her to rethink the meaning of her feminism.

I make my husband lunch at work, a fact I have meticulously guarded lest others find out. So much of my reputation has been built around being a professional and a feminist. Surely, my sandwich-making habits would call my feminist ethos into question.

For a long time, I thought that being a feminist meant that merging with a man, if pursued at all, should occur with his & hers distinctly maintained. I hustled to earn as much money and advance my career as far as I could. I made an elaborate show to prove to anyone who scrutinized our relationship that I was abundantly capable of taking care of myself.

I was so successful at trying to appear independently successful that the only thing that wasn’t succeeding was our relationship. We argued often, likely a byproduct of failing to involve each other in important decisions in our respective lives.

So we decided to try it his way. Recently, I left my San Francisco job to fill a void in his Napa Valley farm business. Yes, the man I was so insistent on proving I did not need is now my boss. In this new life, I gladly get up from my desk and make him lunch when I see him stuck on the phone as the clock ticks past noon.