As I said before, my goal in dealing with my wife’s
personality traits or behaviors which I wasn’t fond of was to change her,
either directly or indirectly.
We all make little changes for other people in
relationships. Maybe we clean up our language a little, tone down our volume a
bit, or stop insisting on watching every Spongebob episode the night it
premieres.
Sometimes we make big changes for these people in our lives.
We might give up our career ambitions, our desire to live in a certain part of
the world, our choice in having children, or even certain traditions we’ve held
for many years.
In those cases above, the decisions are probably fine for a
couple of reasons. The major reason is that we are changing voluntarily. The
other reason is that we will still remain essentially who we were, just a
little different.
But what if those changes aren’t all that voluntary? Well,
that’s a problem. And what if the changes change who we are inside? That’s even
worse!
And if those changes are forced upon us by these other
folks, that's an impending disaster.
I faced a number of these changes, and most of them were
somehow connected to relationships.
I had a girlfriend I cared about, but
there was tremendous pressure on me to move the relationship along. Eventually
I bought an engagement ring, and after more pressure I gave it to her and we
set a date.
That was pretty much the end of the relationship. From my perspective, her goal
was to get married to get out of her parents’ home. Once that ring was on her
finger, and her future seemed secure, she began to break dates, go away for
weekends without calling when we were supposed to be together, and in general
began to have her own life. I broke the engagement and became Public Enemy #1.
After that, the next scenario began. I knew a girl at work
who, it must be pointed out, I did not like. She did not like me either. So of
course we started dating. I mean, who wouldn’t?
Soon I noticed a challenge looming. She was loud and
gregarious (that is, she basically didn’t know a stranger, as her parents would
say). She would inject herself into conversations with people in the next row
at theaters before the film. She would tell folks fairly personal things before
she even knew their names.
I’m a relatively quiet person, and more quiet when I’m with
folks who aren’t. Soon I was getting embarrassed regularly.
It was just who she was, and it was harmless. But the more
it happened, the less I was willing to accept it and the more I began to resist
it. I made disapproving faces. I got emotionally distant, and sometimes
physically if I could.
I was determined to let her know I didn’t like this
behavior. I assumed once she understood that, then she would change. “Ha ha,”
the universe said.
If I had been accepting, then she could have acted like this
all the time and I would have had the distance to just let her. I mean really,
what’s the worst that could happen? Someone might take offence? Well, that’s on
her, isn’t it?
But in my mind, it wasn’t on her. It was a reflection on me.
I felt she was acting like a child in many ways, and I felt more and more
parental. When people would look at me in disbelief about things she would do
or say (very few filters between her mind and her mouth at the time), in my mind
it was as if they were saying, “Dude. Do something with your kid, will you?”
Not fair, I realize. But that’s honestly how I thought and
felt. I was not accepting these things, and much of the reason I wasn’t had to
do with my upbringing and my lack of boundaries.
What do boundaries have to do with anything? Great question!
That will be the focus of the next entry.
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