A friend wrote me an email to ask why I'd been so quiet lately. Another friend did the same thing about a month ago.
I have been quiet lately. I don't like to put things out there that are draining or depressing, and that's what I feel lately. If I'm being honest, I am quiet because I am processing a lot of sad emotions.
But tonight, some thoughts surfaced. Maybe they are worth offering.
Twelve years is a long time.
Chris and I had our first "date" on June 29, 2001. Both musicians, we decided to go to see live music. We ended up stumbling onto the scene of an obnoxiously loud punk band that hurt our ears. I went to the bathroom for some tissue to stuff into my ears, and brought him some too.
Before long, we were on our fifth date. He came to play music with me at a homey little bar called the Luna Grille during a time when I was regularly playing drums. He made me laugh until my sides hurt. He was talented, seemed gentle and compassionate, and although he had a job as a reporter making just a couple bucks above minimum wage, I took a chance. We were married on September 12, 2003.
Like so many, the foundation of our marriage whittled away, buckling under the weight of parenting, responsibilities and financial stress. After I lost my job in 2008, I dove into writing again. Who knows what caused the beginning of the erosion, but during those quiet nights, as I tried to write, seven words floated up from some dark abyss despite my best efforts to muddy the waters and bury them deep.
I don’t want to be married anymore. The words echoed in my mind, until the idea started to take hold. I don’t want to be married anymore. At first, I tried to block the words out. We hung on, trying to make it work for the kids, for the finances, for any number of reasons. We hung on until last summer. Then I could bear it no more. I initiated our separation, and in a short amount of time, Chris agreed. It was time to move on. We wanted different things. We had become different people. Our marriage was over.
But even though it was a mutual decision, and even though it's been, for the most part, amicable, there's still a certain amount of grief. There are still certain things that sting. When I said my vows, I meant them. I envisioned us as old fogies together and took refuge in the idea of "forever." I think often about how it is some people, like my parents, manage to weather changes and tough times and stay together. My parents just celebrated their 42nd anniversary.
Here's what I've come up with. And, if I could have a "do over," these are some things I would do differently.
Be
Polite
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 - Love is patient, love is kind. One of the most quoted verses in weddings. But how many of us can actually say we are loving or kind to our partners on a daily basis? First, I have to say, I still believe in love. But enduring years intimately involved with another person takes more than love. It takes consideration and basic manners - the common courtesy you'd give your coworkers or a fellow passenger on the bus. If I could have a do over, I would try my best to always be polite. Say excuse me. Fill the toilet paper holder. Simple courtesy can go a long way.
Check
your tongue
I won't lie: I'm all about peace, love and happiness until you cross me. Then, I brandish words like weapons. Chris and I have thrown some awful verbal barbs at each other in the last ten years. We're taught when growing up to apologize for our wrongs, as if two simple words "I'm sorry" can erase hurt. And while saying you're sorry is certainly a start, it doesn't undo the hurt caused by verbal sparring. If I could have a do over, I would zip it and not ever say crap I had to apologize for.
Compassion
is the guide star
This goes beyond being polite. When we need something (time, attention, help with a project, etc), it can be difficult to step outside of ourselves and remember that someone else may have had a crappy, long day at work, been chewed out by their boss, be tired or dealt with some other mishap or disappointment throughout the day. If I could have a do over, I would try to be more compassionate of my partner's needs and limitations, and realize when he had a bad day.
Take
time to connect
It's easy to lose sight of this one. We get busy. We need time to unwind after a long day. We seal ourselves off from the world, and sometimes even our partners. Time slips away, and suddenly it's been years since we have done the things we used to do to connect. Shortly after the honeymoon, Chris and I stopped playing music together. We would make plans to spend time with friends, but never made spending time alone together a priority. Taking time to connect is vital. Otherwise, you're left with a disconnect that eventually cannot be repaired.
Humility
Have respect. Admit when you're wrong. Simple. We're human. We can get boastful or moody or otherwise act like jackasses. Having the humility to step outside of yourself and recognize when you are being a jackass takes skill. If I could have a do over, I'd recognize when I was being a jackass more readily and apologize sincerely.
Shut
your mouth and open your ears (and heart)
In an argument, this is especially difficult. We get caught up in thinking of our point, what we're going to say next, that we don't shut up and listen to what our partner is saying. Even when we shut our mouths, our minds might still be preoccupied with our own concerns. Listening to another person's point of view/thoughts/feelings can go a long way. Telling that person you heard them can go even farther. If I could have a do over, I'd shut up. I'd invest in some Q-tips
®. And I would reflect back to my partner what I heard him saying, to let him know I was listening.I am sure I will come up with more thoughts over the next few weeks. But if you are one of the people who has wondered why I am quiet lately, this is why. Healing, for me, takes patience, solitude, thoughtfulness and reflection. It's been a long process, but I think I'm finally rounding a corner. To those of you who have written with concerns, thank you. It means more than you know.
Namaste
