Bedsteads and Dryer Cords: One Woman Finds Herself and Her Independence in Small Do-it-yourself Projects

When I finally moved from the house my ex-husband and I had purchased together and into a rental house, living without another adult for the first time in my life, I needed to do everything myself. I had to assert myself as a capable, independent adult. The first thing I learned was that the 9 times we’d moved during my marriage were so easy because my ex-husband is possessed of moving logistics which I lack. Months after moving I was still getting small things out of the old house. Eventually I got all moved, and am getting somewhat settled in.

The night of the big furniture move was my first real chance to prove my self-reliance. I lay under my half-put together bed frame at 2 o’clock in the morning, crying, while my boyfriend sat in the living room unaware; I finally realized that sometimes, it’s okay to accept help, or even to ask for it. He’d offered earlier to help me, but in my stubbornness I declined his offer. When I walked into the living room, red-nosed and face tear-streaked, he was wonderful, never pointing out “I offered to help!” in that huffy way some people might. We got the bed put together and I got the blessed sleep I needed, my pride a little wounded at requiring help. In the clearer light of morning, I realized by 2 a.m. I was exhausted from a move which had started at 6 a.m. that morning and had taken about 12 hours longer than it should have because of wretched weather and slightly incompetent movers. There was no shame in needing, and asking for, help in that situation.

When it came to changing my dryer cord, however, I had to conquer this one, alone. The dryer cord became my Mount Everest. One of us was going to win. I had no intention of submitting.

The house we owned together was built to our specifications in 1999. This meant it had modern electrical wiring, including a 4-prong dryer cord. In case you haven’t bought a dryer recently, you might be surprised to know they do not come with cords, because the cord depends upon the outlet in your home. The 4-prong is safer, as it has a grounding prong, unlike the 3-prong which self-grounds on the machine. Still, the 3-prong wiring is standard in houses built before the mid-1990’s, and the process of retrofitting all the outlets in all these houses is too vast to accomplish via the electrical code. So you have to buy your own cord when you buy a dryer. And if you move into an older home from a newer home, you have to change the cord.

My rental house was built in 1980.

I drew a picture of the outlet and went to Lowe’s. I quickly found the right cord, and headed home for what I expected to be a quick change out. Later I discovered I was missing a piece, but that wasn’t what delayed me at the beginning. Paralysis stopped me. I looked at the dryer, I looked at the cord, and I froze. “What are you doing?” the evil insecure voice in me piped up. “You’re going to blow yourself up.” I tried to encourage myself with memories of my mother taking apart the washing machine and making it work again, but to little avail. I did the only logical thing.

I consulted the internet.

Now, the internet is a wonderful resource for information. The problem is, it’s very unfiltered, and anyone who can sort of string letters into words can proclaim himself an expert. I got a scary amount of flat-out WRONG advice on how to change a dryer cord. I also got a lot of people saying “Hire an electrician.” I’m not going to hire an electrician to change a cord! I lost my focus for a while, going off on a tangent in my mind about our society’s overwhelming reliance on “experts”, which has grown to such proportions that people don’t trust their own abilities at all, even at a time when “do-it-yourself” has become a mantra, and a huge focus of television programming . But that’s another article… When I got back on task, I still had very little confidence in what I was about to do. I contemplated calling my mother, but there was an issue of pride and needing independence from her as well.

I finally steeled myself, shut off my computer, and armed myself with my screwdriver.

And, in the words of a famous ad, I just did it.

As I removed the old cord, I noticed the configuration of the wires, and thought they seemed “not quite right” based on the diagrams I’d looked at online. I filed that information away for later, with the notion of going back to look at wiring diagrams after I’d finished. Once I had the cord in place, I tried to make the tension clamp for the old cord fit the new cord, with no success. This was when I realized I was missing a piece. Being that it was midnight by now, going back to Lowe’s for the piece was out of the question, so I had to stop. I was frustrated at not being able to finish.

I finally got the missing piece, hooked everything up, considered turning off the breaker before plugging it in, decided against that since none of my breakers were labeled and I was lacking the patience it was going to take to determine which was which. For a brief moment, I thought about calling my ex and asking him if I’d done it right, but decided against that as well, as it wasn’t in keeping with my fight for independence. Standing with my fire extinguisher at the ready, I plugged it in. No explosions … a very good sign. I turned it on. Noise … another very good sign. I gleefully washed a load of clothes (for the first time in my life, I was excited to laundry!) And soon enough, I had a dry load of clothes. I’d done it!

Later on, I did go back and look at wiring diagrams. That was when I discovered that for the last 8 years, I’d been using a dryer with an improperly connected cord, putting me at risk for electrical shock each time I touched it. That cord had been attached by my very accomplished engineer ex-husband.

I was ever-so-glad I had not called him for advice on wiring the new cord, and found myself filled with pride at my accomplishment. Success begets success, and I have been slowly doing little tasks around my house which previously fell upon “the man of the house.” I’m eying installing a ceiling fan in the very near future. I will figure out my breaker box before then, possibly with the help of my always willing, but rarely utilized, boyfriend. Then again, maybe I’ll be hard-headed and just do it myself.

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