Uncomfortable “Stuff”

Year 4, Week 49: Waiting for Our Baby

I’ll never forget receiving the message that day, over a year ago. It was textless – a sound file. When I increased the volume on my phone, I heard them: strong, rapid, healthy heart beats. One of my best friends from high school – a woman I look up to, live life beside, and never let slip too far in my rearview mirror – was sharing the news of her pregnancy!

This wasn’t the first time I had experienced a pregnancy announcement; in fact, I’ve been able to celebrate with my family and many of my family’s friends throughout my life. With this announcement, though, some unexpected emotions manifested.

Let’s be real: I do not want to admit this, but it’d be a dishonest reflection if I did not. And it wouldn’t show the enormous heart transformation that has occurred since then.

So here it is.

The amount of envy that infiltrated what should have been a purely joyous moment was deeply disturbing to me. It was the first time that it had happened, and I know why.

This was my peer in just about every sense of the word: though she was a grade above me in high school, we were track and field teammates, both ambitious students, and subscribed to the notion that women should help each other rather than create more drama for each other. I knew the moment she called to tell me about the guy she had met that she was going to marry him: “It’s in your voice. The love in your voice. This is your guy.” We got to see them get married on such a gorgeous day and now it made complete sense that they would be welcoming a baby into their lives!

But Cody and I had been trying for a baby for a year at that point, and the tears that I tried to swallow when my friend sent me that message were really awful. The sudden feeling that it was somehow unfair was the worst. Unfair? How was it unfair? Even writing it down for the public to see is terrible. But I know this is common. I know this is a thing. I didn’t WANT to feel the way I did, but I DID. Now the question was, How could I stop it?

I don’t want to be blinded to what I have because I’m too busy looking at what I don’t.

I vowed then that I would never allow someone else’s joy–and their desire to share that joy with me–ever be soured by bitterness or envy. It couldn’t be. Not feeling complete joy because something absolutely wonderful is happening is NOT the way it should be. It’s not the way I want to live my life. I resolved that there had to be a better way.

Being grateful for what I have RIGHT NOW is 98% of it.

It has taken a dependable group of friends, women who know my heart – who know I don’t have bad intentions when I tell them I feel sad and happy at the same time – and women who have experienced the waiting. It has taken a husband who doesn’t put pressure on me or who reminds me that it’s not my fault that it’s taking us a little longer than it might take other couples. It has taken parents and parents-in-law who don’t remind us at every turn that we should probably be giving them grandbabies at this point. It has taken my own willpower to resist snapping back at those who try to reassure me saying, “But you’re so young. You have time” and believe them, instead. It has taken the power of prayer to keep my heart calm and peel away the frustration that things aren’t happening on my own time.

Ultimately, here’s what I know as truth. And it’s this truth that grounds me and keeps me positive, happy for others, and guards me against that awful feeling that might threaten to creep up every now and then:

I will have the perfect baby at the perfect time. I’ll know, looking at my baby, why it was meant to happen then and not necessarily when I wanted.

That’s it.

How do I know I’ve had a mental and emotional transformation? Well, you know how we’re able to test our physical health and progress through competition, or measurements, or other tests. But what about mental health? How do I know I’ve improved so much?

Well, this last week, I not only visited the newborn of our very best friends, but the next day I visited another newborn of a good colleague of mine and then, the very next day after that, after that first beautiful heartbeat message, I got to celebrate Remi’s first birthday. With either of the visits, there was no bitterness, no sadness, no anger, no jealousy. I got to watch one of my very best friends celebrate her daughter’s first birthday. I was able to play with Remi, cuddle and giggle with her.

Does the yearning still exist? Absolutely. But there’s a comfort in the waiting now that wasn’t there before.

Thank God for that.

Year 3, Week 35: The Ten Commandments of Resolving Conflict

I always feel bad for those couples who say, “We’re together like, all the time. We do everything together!”

That’s great, but have you had your first fight?

Then they look at me like I’ve destroyed all the hope of love and romance in the world. But I’m just being realistic.

Because if they spend all their time together and they haven’t had their first fight yet, then are they more, or less, likely to reconcile once conflict inevitably arises?

There are a few principles we follow, fairly subconsciously, but could be explicitly stated here. I’m not professionally trained in conflict resolution, but enough experience has made me feel like I can share the

Ten Commandments of Resolving Conflict

Fight fair. We don’t say things that aren’t true just to “win” the fight.
Do not swear – not even for emphasis. It escalates the tension so quickly and it leads down a path of saying what you don’t mean.
Stay calm. This is so difficult but becomes easier with time, I promise. Deep breaths. Take ten. Inside voices. Use a stress ball if you need one.
Don’t slam any doors in your partner’s face. It communicates punishment and a literal halt to any continuance of conversation. I am so guilty of this. It honestly only prolongs the time it takes to get to the reconciling stage. Just don’t do it to yourself.
——————

Let your pride suffer and stay in the same room, or at least say, “I need some time. I’ll be back.” It sucks so bad, but it helps so much to leave the path of communication wide open. It says, “I don’t like you right now, but I still respect you.”
—————
Hug before it gets too bad. Cody’s infamous for wanting to be affectionate right when I’m about to blow. It’s something like, “C’mere. Hey. Shh.” along with a big hug. I swear it’s still from when he was three and getting into trouble with his Momma. I can just see him waddling over to his Mom’s leg and opening up arms for forgiveness. I suppose it works for me, too.
When you’re ready to fix the problem, hold hands. It shows that you’re committed to a solution. It reminds us that we’re in this together.
—————-

It’s not me against you. It’s us against the problem.
————-
Don’t make things more dramatic than they have to be in order to prove your point. Don’t try to intentionally manipulate, threaten, or scare your partner in order to get your own way. It’s just not worth it.
Do not offer drastic ultimatums. It suggests a lack of trust in your partner’s will and desire to be with you.
Don’t ever threaten divorce unless you actually, deep down, really mean it.
Remember what’s really important. Is the thing we’re fighting about actually important, or is it a little inconvenience that we’re upset about? Will this matter in ten years, a month, or a day? If it’s a huge discrepancy between y’all values, then it’s going to take more time to iron out and reconcile. But if it’s about coming home to see the meat hasn’t been thawed yet? Go grocery shopping together. Order a pizza. These are quick fixes and aren’t grounds for divorce.

These points work for us, but we’re always surprised when yet another conflict seems insurmountable and scares us into believing that we won’t “make it” through this next obstacle. Do you have any other ideas or approaches that work for you and your partner? Please share them below!

Year 2, Week 49: At Least I Have a Cody

For whatever reason, it’s been really tough getting back in the swing of things with Cody after my Montana trip this year. Last year, we fell right back into being love birds and enjoying each other’s company after so much time apart. I had come back super rejuvenated and ready to tackle on whatever summer projects came my way, but this year after the 10-day excursion, I was beat and needed extra love and attention.

Unfortunate for present Ania but great for Future Ania and Cody, Cody’s TLC was going towards his baby side-business. While I was gone, there was no one to remind him that night-time meant sleepy-time and so it was a free-for-all and he had tons of momentum on his side from productive nights and busy days.

Present Ania does not like this momentum, however, because somehow this man’s incredible work ethic avoided the laundry machine. This meant he didn’t do 10-days worth of laundry. And I just brought all of my dirty clothes home.

I put on my patient face and calmly asked through gritted teeth why.
He very nicely reminded me that he hates doing the laundry. And, by the way, his white t-shirts are running low.

And then I won the day because I simply blinked instead of throwing a pan (lovingly) at his face and avoided telling him that adulthood is basically doing all the things you hate. But then I realized I’d sound bitter and would probably be taken in by police for questioning for claims of assault and battery (again – ask me about this when I’m drunk) and I’m trying to be a more positive person.

I did the laundry this week (because someone was running low on white t-shirts) and Cody even helped fold it. How nice.

I feel like he’s going to grumble (and I wouldn’t be playing fair) if I didn’t point out that he did clean up the living room and put some of the not-put-away clothes from TWO WEEKS AGO in the closet, so I can’t say he didn’t contribute to the housekeeping cause. I think there were even some washed dishes in there. I know he helped clean the cupboards a bit and ate some more peanut butter. It was expiring*.

I write this with dripping sarcasm and hyperbole because it’s fun, and because Cody really does hate doing the laundry. I’m actually proud of him for sticking to his convictions. I married a man of steel will and commitment. Not many wives can say the same.

In all seriousness, this is something of an unwritten agreement between us: he washes my gross leftover tupperware containers and any pots and pans with beans in them, and I take one for the team and do all the laundry.**

Ready for the exhaustingly positive twist that I’m about to whip out? I can’t really truly complain because at least I have a Cody to yell at about laundry, and I’m more grateful that he’s alive and breathing.

I just wish he’d use that breath to do laundry more than once a year.

Maybe that’ll be my anniversary gift this year.

*ten years from now, because if Cody were Chuck Norris, he’d eat the peanut butter before it was even a tree. Peanuts grow on trees, right? This is summertime, what I am doing thinking?

**…Does this now make it a written agreement? Did I just screw myself? Or is this a win? I hate washing beans from things. Gross.

Year 2, Week 45: Don’t Assume He Can Read Your Mind

I don’t know why women do this. Or maybe it’s not even all women. Maybe it’s just me.

I have a picture of how I’d like Cody to act. Said a different way, I have expectations of what he might do or say that I hope become reality. Example? When I have a big concert coming up, I assume Cody will see the event on our Google calendar and make plans to be there.

But then, that day, if I don’t bring it up and invite him, he probably won’t go.

He would have expected me to communicate my desires with him earlier. That I hadn’t said a peep (even know I brought it up almost every day and brought up stories of me preparing for this concert for a few days now…)

Arrrrghhh. SO frustrating.

Maybe, when we first started dating, I didn’t communicate my desire because I was “testing” to see if he was the ‘right’ guy. That was a failed experiment.

How in the world was Cody supposed to read my mind? He didn’t know me well enough. By not telling him what I wanted and then got mad when he didn’t deliver, I was setting him up for failure.

It’s like asking my students where their project is, getting mad when they don’t have it, and ignoring them when they cry, “But you didn’t even tell us we had homework!”

To which I would reply: Well you should have known, students, by all of my passive-aggressive comments and subtly dropped hints this week that there was going to be a 10 minute presentation from each student today on the beginnings of civilization. Looks like you really messed that one up. Sorry, kid, you fail, for not being a better listener.

As much as it pains me to be so darn detailed about something I’d love to be a surprise, mysterious expectations are a lose-lose situation. Sure, such explicit communication makes me feel like I’m being demanding when I’m laying out exactly what I’d like, but it makes Cody more than happy to listen and accommodate when he can.

Moral of the story – explicit communication of expectations totally kills any romance, but the reality of peace and security in the relationship is worth it.

Don’t set your partner up for failure. Tell ’em what you want.

Year 2, Week 38: He Had Every Reason to be Mad.

Cody could have complained – he had every right to.

I left my leftover lunch in the Tupperware.
In my lunch bag.
For three days.

Yuck.

Background: My mom would often clean up after me because she’s a saint and I’ve always been kind of lazy, and any time anything made me really super uncomfortable (like, gross, smelly food), someone else (Dad?) would take care of it. It’s an uncomfortable truth. I know where the problem comes from. I know where it leads. I do it any way. That, my friends, is what we call a character flaw.

But, when confronted with my mess, Cody didn’t say a thing. I mean, while I was taking a shower, I heard him gag, but that was it. When I was out of the shower, I saw a clean dish and we proceeded as normal. I felt the shame. I thanked him for cleaning it – again – and he just kind of shrugged. I hated myself and promised not to let it get to this point ever again. I’ll let you know if I follow through.

Last week, Cody and I decided we’d take a fairly spontaneous trip down to Arkansas to visit family during the upcoming weekend. On Thursday morning, Cody proclaimed, “I have a goal. I am going to make sure the house is clean before we leave tomorrow so that we can come back to a more appealing home.” I completely agreed – especially with the part where he said “I”.

But I found that, when I came home on Thursday afternoon, I started working on Cody’s goal. I dropped in a load of laundry right away (one of the only chores I prefer, probably because my dad made it a bonding activity for us, instead of something I should scorn). Then, I started washing a load of dishes. I performed these two chores on repeat until the clothes were folded and almost all the dishes were dried.

He didn’t come home right after work like I thought he would. He did send a text around 7:30pm to ask how things were going at home, which I thought was a little strange, since he should have been home around this time. Reminder, if you need one: he was the one who said he was going to clean the house. At 9pm, the house was almost clean, but not because he was home, and definitely not because he told me to.

I love the man so much that his desire for a clean house motivated me to do it as an act of service to show him my love. I knew that he’d really appreciate me packing our bags and cleaning up the house, especially because he knows I’d seriously rather be doing other things.

So he came home a little after midnight to a clean home, gave me a big hug in the morning, and asked if I was mad at him. I answered him honestly, and the answer honestly surprised me.

No, I’m not. I found I meant it, too.

No? Ania, this would have made you so mad before. True.

But this is before he cleaned up my messes and didn’t say a word about it.

It’s like we have our own language now. We don’t have to say anything, but I imagine the conversation runs in its silent current as follows:

Cody: My wife is a slob. But I love her. I know she really hates doing this stuff, and I value a less-smelly house (apparently more than she does) so I’ll clean it up.

This is so gross. But I love her…

Ania (hiding, as Cody is cleaning): Ugh. Why do I do this. Why don’t I just take care of it right away? I feel shame. …Why isn’t he yelling at me? Or at least making me feel bad?

I guess he doesn’t make me feel bad for the same reason I’m not mad at him for not showing up to his own idea of a clean house (haha). I didn’t want to ruin the trip – he’s usually the main cleaner of the house, so it wouldn’t be fair to get mad at him during a rare time he’s out enjoying himself with his colleagues.

Just like I know I have my character flaws, I also know that my husband loves me with extraordinary grace – he gives me love (forgiveness, mercy, goodness..) when I least think I deserve it. I guess you can say I have decided it’s time for me to grow up and start doing the same.

Year 2, Week 37: What if he cheats?

Cody and I were traveling to work this Monday morning and customarily asked each other what the upcoming week’s responsibilities looked like: what evenings were going to be dedicated to other obligations, and which hours would we spend together. It’s a nice way to set expectations so that we aren’t sad when Life “gets in the way.” We use Google calendar as our family planning tool. It’s wonderful.

As I was scrolling through traffic, Cody was swiping through our calendar(s) and said he’d be traveling to a meeting on Tuesday night and wouldn’t be home ’til late. I very casually affirmed, “No big deal. I have piano lessons until the early evening, and then I’ll just edit my book.”

And what happened next surprised me big time. There was no reason for the fear that gripped me, or the anxiety that ran through my body – but out of NO WHERE the thought “What if he’s cheating on me?” entered my mind.

You know the narrative – the husband “works late” but is really with The Other Woman and his wife is waiting for him at home, a warm meal prepared that’s going to get cold real quick, just like their relationship did a while back.

I need to reiterate that there was NO reason for this fear to exist. He hadn’t suggested anything, we hadn’t watched any shows or movies that showed infidelity… It was the same kind of surprise I encountered when my beautifully growing tulips were covered by snow yesterday.

It’s funny how quickly you can grow something – a true blue relationship -, just to have it destroyed in a few hours time.

When things go, or feel wrong, I’ve been trying lately to accept my feelings and “honor” them (whatever that really means) and then let them go. It’s kind of like I just let the snow keep covering the spring flowers. I imagine the worst case scenarios since I forget that there could ever be good again.

What if he cheats on me?
What if he is cheating on me? He is on that computer an awful lot, and we did meet online.
What if I’m so blind one day that I miss all the red flags and warning signs and become the woman at home who just cooked a great meal and her husband won’t be home til late?
How vast would this heart break be.

I realized that the last thought wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t until later that evening that I shared these fears with Cody. He just hugged me from behind and said, “From someone who’s been cheated on and mistreated, you don’t have to worry.” (He even sang the song a little :).

It did make me feel better. The Google calendar and open communication throughout the day doesn’t hurt, either; it helps me feel validated, secure, and thought of. It’s insane how much that fear of losing him to infidelity drove my desire to love and appreciate him even more.

Sometimes the snow -the doubt, the fear, the insecurity- has to cover the flowers -the relationship and your perceptions of it- to inspire greater appreciation and trust. Constant fear should be examined, certainly, but in my case, this circumstance does not warrant greater reflection.

So no, I’m not actually worried that Cody will cheat on me, but boy did the fear of it make me appreciate that I don’t have to worry at all.

Update: Turns out the snow didn’t destroy the flowers. In fact, it looks like the the melted water helped make them taller. Maybe, every once in a while, we need to imagine something we love will disappear one day, in order to nurture what we already have.

Year 2, Week 34: ‘Rough Draft’ Talk

I keep forgetting it’s not just me anymore.
But then it is me – my likes, dislikes, and character.
But it’s not just about me anymore.
But how do we talk about stuff when his likes, dislikes, and character, sometimes seems to clash with mine?

This long weekend was tiring. We didn’t do anything crazy. We read a lot, laughed a lot, and walked around beautiful 60-degree sunshiney Chicago a lot, but we also talked a lot.

Or, at least, he talked a lot. And I thought a lot about how I’d respond.
This is a frustrating reflection to write because there isn’t an answer at the end. I just think you should know what the real difficulty is here.

Cody loves “rough draft” talk. “Rough draft” talk is the idea that, without any real aim (or with just a tentative end in mind), the speaker can feel free to just speak. It’s through speaking that she can create, or stumble upon, more ideas than if she had remained silent. I claim to love it, and I encourage my students to do it all the time (“Don’t be afraid! Talk it out! This is how we learn!”), but when it comes to actually practicing it, I freeze like an opossum who never saw the other guy coming.

Example:

Cody and I decided to go out on Friday night (Yay!) to enjoy the spring-weather in mid-February. We were waiting in traffic when a group of teenage girls passed by us and Cody commented, “Jeez. Herd mentality. Our kid will never…”

And that’s all I had to here for every single one of my porcupine needles to spring out of my usually-soft exterior. I’m pretty sure one even flew out of the open window, judging by the echoing shriek from the girls running around outside. I tried to coax them back in, lovingly reminding them that Cody isn’t the enemy and I should just listen and learn from his perspective.

So I asked him what he meant. And I didn’t like what he had to say.
Because I was already on the defensive.

I’m not here to air out our dirty laundry. I’m not even hear to complain that we had a spat – that’s normal stuff. I’m here to describe what happens when I close up, or “needle-out.”

When I feel offended, I stop talking. It’s a hearkening back to “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” There is no rough-draft talk. This makes Cody feel like (hold on, let me ask him).. “I generally assume that I have done something wrong and I can’t fix it because I don’t know what it is. Or, I feel like you’re holding back thoughts that could help us improve our relationship because you’re afraid of causing issues today. I, however, would rather work through any issues today so we can have a happier, more successful tomorrow.” Yes, he really said that. What an English teacher’s dream, amiright?

So I clamp up. In my mind, yes, I am holding something back because I feel like I’m not thinking the way I should be thinking. I look up to Cody so much that sometimes I feel like I’d rather just go along with his way of thinking because he’s older than I am, which means he has spent more time reading than I have and has, at the end of the day, lived more life than I have. I have spent most of my life looking up to my three older brothers, so I have tons of practice putting my thoughts aside to just listen to someone else’s opinions.

But Cody’s not interested in that submission crap. And that means I have to “rough draft” talk when I least want to. I want to speak eloquently always, making perfect sense in every sentence. I don’t want him to snap onto a few words that I may not have even meant, which could cause an even greater misunderstanding. It’s not that I don’t want to work on our relationship, it’s just that uncomfortable conversations really suck, especially when your significant other really wants to know what you think.

So I guess this is just a reflection showing what I know I still have to work on. Cody and I can flirt, joke around, and have surface conversations with the best of them. But what makes our marriage truly ours is how much hard labor we’re willing to pour into the foundation.

And if you want a sturdy foundation, you have to be willing to get dirt under your fingernails, some porcupine needles in your butt, and a lot of rough draft talk to get a perfect blueprint.

Proof from our Friday night that sums up our discomfort. But at least we were full on Mexican and chocolate. ..Maybe that was the problem.

Year 2, Week 33: “Go Save Your Marriage”

I give Cody permission to write this week’s reflection. In the spirit of our latest Netflix binge, “Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events”, look away, look away, because Cody is going to be honest with my shortcomings. I promise it ends on a sweet note, because, even though we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, this week’s reflection is proof that we’re romantic even on days that aren’t endorsed by Hallmark. Here’s Cody.

At the beginning of 2017, we decided to make one of our goals for the year to have a pre-planned monthly “traditional” date night—a movie, dinner, ice skating, that sort of thing.

One of our biggest issues as a couple is that Ania likes to go out a lot more frequently than I do, whether it’s dinner out or fancy cocktails with friends. I, on the other hand, prefer having people over to our house where we can skip the long lines, cook dinner together, make our own fancy cocktails for 1/10 the price, talk without being drowned out by other people or obnoxiously loud music, and play an occasional board game. (I’m not biased at all. 😉 ) Add in the fact that we’ve set some very ambitious financial goals together, and dining out falls to the bottom of my priority list.

While this difference in priorities alone can be a source of contention, we learned a valuable “couple insight” for ourselves in 2016. We would go out with friends on Wednesday and Ania would be complaining on Friday that we never go out anywhere. But when we have a night out planned and on the calendar in advance, the act of looking forward to the evening makes her appreciate the experience more.

This brings us back to our goal of a monthly “traditional” date. With all of this in mind, we made sure to prioritize a pre-planned date night in our 2017 goals. (More on our “couple goals” process later.)

While we’ll still go out with friends spontaneously when the occasion arises, having a set night out for ourselves alleviates some of this anxiety and reinforces the experience. Similarly, we’re trying pre-planned group “dates” each month with a core group of friends as well. But that’s another subject.

So we scheduled a recurring night on the calendar for the 2nd Thursday of every month. This makes sure we don’t miss a month and gives us something to look forward to each month.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of a snag with this month’s plans. On the Wednesday before our date night, my office had to be evacuated. Long story short, we had some equipment fail. We ordered replacements to be shipped overnight. They arrived Thursday afternoon and my boss asked everyone to stay late to help install the new stuff.

I didn’t know how long it would take, so I stayed a little late to help get started. But as I realized we weren’t wrapping up, I had to excuse myself to my boss:

“I don’t want to be a quitter, but Ania and I have plans.
It’s date night.”

I’m fortunate to have a boss who understands. But behind this understanding is a plethora of conversations my boss and I have had together about priorities, starting before I was even hired. (Working in finance often means 12-14 hour days and I wanted to be clear from the start that a work-life balance is important to me.)

So when I asked to bail a little early, he just smiled and said,

“Go save your marriage.”

I know Ania is happier today because we chose to honor our date night this week. And that makes me a happy boy.

Year 2, Week 31: Uncomfortable Conversations

There are so many quotes online about love and relationships, and they usually sound nice and uplifting, but I keep scrolling and move on with my day. I finally stumbled upon one, though, that I thought was right-on and thought it was important to share:

I am willing to claim that uncomfortable conversations are at the heart of every growing relationship. When each person is in the same place in life, conversations are easy; in truth, they’re probably so easy because they’re not quite deeper than discussing one’s likes, dislikes, and past formative events. It gets more challenging when factors beyond one’s control begin entering the equation – a new job, or an opportunity that is located in another city, or a new personality that’s entered the mix that threatens to destroy the dynamic you had grown accustomed to. Regardless of the circumstance, a relationship will always feel like there’s resistance – like there is something “in the way” of it becoming just perfect, or whole, or magical.

It is never whole, perfect, or magical.

It is only your perspective that can make it appear so. Therein lies the magic.

The secret? Remain committed to your person despite the hardest conversation. And, if you don’t have a “your person” yet, stay on the look-out for the type of person you wouldn’t mind having difficult conversations with. The only way to know if that person will be “yours” is if you can have a disagreement, talk it out, and feel like you love him/her more than before.

If it seems simple, that’s because it is. It’s really only the commitment that needs to be tried. Like a wise student told me the other day: “The quality of a relationship depends only on the effort put in.”

Potential difficult conversation topics no one told you to expect during marriage (these could be from experience, or not):
– Who actually pays for the wedding
– What if your vision of your wedding day looks totally different from your future husband’s?
– So we have a joint budget now? No? Yes? Does that mean I can still spend my money how I want? No?
– Wait, so we’re not having a dinner date night every weekend? But I heard it’s important!
– Do we celebrate Valentine’s Day?
– How would you like your birthday celebrated? No, really.
– Why are you actually a slob?
– Family. All the topics and sub-topics and even more you never saw coming.
– When do you want a baby?**
– Do you believe in God?
– Do you believe in unconditional love?
– How much time do we actually want to spend together after work? Do you need more wind-down alone time than I do?
– Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
– What’s your dream? Do our dreams match? Again, the scary part here is that dreams, just like non-negotiables, can change.
– How many times a week do we want home-cooked meals? Who’s going to cook them?
– Wait, what kind of school do you want our kids to go to?
– I’ll add more over time, I’m sure.

**It’s important to note here that before you accept (or propose) a marriage commitment, there are some fundamentals that definitely need to be discussed (not agreed upon, necessarily, but definitely come to a mutual understanding and respect for one another’s views), like whether or not you want kids, how important family really is to you, religious values, etc.

My point is – every couple will have different unforeseen challenges ahead. The goal is to find the person who will want to hear your ideas, feel safe enough to contribute his own, and ultimately see you at the end of the equation, regardless of the method you take to get there.

Year 2, Week 29: What a Bizarre Week.

Guys. Self-examination is exhausting. Necessary, but exhausting. I envy those people who are able to act without considering the consequences (and now, because I swear my thoughtfulness is my fatal flaw, I need to make it clear that I’m not referring to anyone in particular here; just people, out there somewhere. The U.S. has been really great at this lately, so you know what I mean).

I’ve been really hard on myself this week. I have been second-guessing every choice, every word, every action that may be misconstrued, misunderstood, or mistaken as something offensive or damaging. Instead of sharing my ideas clearly and thoughtfully, I hesitated this week, wondering whether my words will actually help clear the air, or make them even worse. To be totally honest, because I’ve never had this problem before, it’s been really awful.

My character dictates that I focus on being so kind as a sort of preventative maintenance to any altercation. It’s why I’m so bad at confrontations. I avoid them at all costs, like Janie Crawford in the beginning of Their Eyes Were Watching God. But to consider every implication of my actions? I can’t do it. Who, pray tell, can?

At the end of 3rd grade, we received personal certificates specially decided by our teacher. While others’ certificates read “Good Reader” or “Great Speller,” my certificate was awarded to me for “Remembering that No One is Perfect.”

Thanks, Ms. Slater. <3

Regardless, I have wondered why trying to be a good, thoughtful, caring person this week has been so hard. It feels futile, weak, and down-right depressing. In fact, it feels like good is the opposite of what’s accepted as the norm. What the heck is going on? [I have a theory that it’s a combination of the political climate and the drabby weather outside, but this isn’t a space for solutions – just reflection. (Because apparently I haven’t had enough of it.)]

But I try anyway. My only defense is that, maybe, someone will see my example and be less of a jerk to the next person. I have absolutely no way of knowing this for certain, but it’s enough to put that stupid smile on my face, as wary as it is to be there.

As thorny as this week has felt, the largest rose has blossomed on the bush. If I didn’t keep getting pricked with thorns this week, I would not have had a chance to feel the comforting support of my husband. It’s true. When my hands feel cold and clammy, his warmth is enough to remind me that life is still good. When I doubt my inherent goodness and worth, he shakes his head sadly, like he hadn’t done his job well enough as a husband. Like, if he had been doing his job well enough, then I wouldn’t be sitting here like a dejected puppy. That’s how good he is.

But we’re not perfect. And we’re constantly trying to find ways to improve ourselves. Turns out that, this week, we weren’t focusing on improvement.

We were being forced to focus on what we already have: a marriage that, when we doubt everything about ourselves, there’s a person who says, “No. Stop. You are enough. You are good. I love You.” And he says it in such a way that I don’t have to second-guess him.

Duh, a little voice winks, he married you. Of course he means it.

And then I don’t doubt it at all.

How bizarre.