The Other Side of the Story Part One
Okay: in accordance with the instructions of my esteemed sponsor, I have laid out all the resentments that I have been carrying around toward my wife, some of them, in varying degrees of intensity, for decades. Now, also in accordance with those instructions, I proceed to explore my part in the events that generated the resentments.
Starting with the first resentment, which had to with letting my wife driving a hundred and fifty miles out of our way in order to punish her for being pissy and imperious in refuting my original suggestion that she was taking the wrong route: well, in fact, while I sat there for two hours, knowing she was going the wrong way and just waiting for her to discover it, I was being what is commonly referred to as a dick. I could have acted from love instead of enjoying my vengeful, passive aggressive gloating. I could have said, "My darling, I know you're positive that this is the way, but I'm fairly close to certain that it isn't, so let's pull over and look at a map and make sure we're not driving to Hell and Gone, okay?" I know I could have done that. I know I could have weathered her refusals and loved her into being open to the discussion. I know because that's the way I deal with her occasional bouts of pissiness now. And you know what? It always works, and we're both happier for it. I'm not going to beat myself up over this--it was a lesson I had yet to learn--but it's very clear that I was more interested at the time in being right than in being happy, and that's a bad bad choice to make.
On to the next three resentments:
The time she crossed her arms and pouted and declared one of the most beautiful places on the planet to be ugly, thereby ruining my good time: The truth is, I knew very well at the time that she loves the mountains, loves setting up camp and enjoying the air and the place, but doesn't like to hike. She has told me this many times, in English. By encouraging--make that emotionally blackmailing (oh, baby, just for a little while, it'll make me so happy) her into taking the hike with me, I was forcing her to act out a scene in a script I had written in my head for us, a script in which we are the Happy Family In The Emerald Pool Among The Redwoods. What right do I have to do that? None. That one I'm still guilty of: I take my family on vacations and literally hear their happy exclamations of how wonderful it all is in my head, and when they don't say the lines as written, I get unhappy. Now whose fault is that? When will I learn to write my own lines and let everybody else write theirs?
The next resentment--well, the next few get into stuff about sex, so we'll save those for their own post. They deserve it.
Starting with the first resentment, which had to with letting my wife driving a hundred and fifty miles out of our way in order to punish her for being pissy and imperious in refuting my original suggestion that she was taking the wrong route: well, in fact, while I sat there for two hours, knowing she was going the wrong way and just waiting for her to discover it, I was being what is commonly referred to as a dick. I could have acted from love instead of enjoying my vengeful, passive aggressive gloating. I could have said, "My darling, I know you're positive that this is the way, but I'm fairly close to certain that it isn't, so let's pull over and look at a map and make sure we're not driving to Hell and Gone, okay?" I know I could have done that. I know I could have weathered her refusals and loved her into being open to the discussion. I know because that's the way I deal with her occasional bouts of pissiness now. And you know what? It always works, and we're both happier for it. I'm not going to beat myself up over this--it was a lesson I had yet to learn--but it's very clear that I was more interested at the time in being right than in being happy, and that's a bad bad choice to make.
On to the next three resentments:
The time she crossed her arms and pouted and declared one of the most beautiful places on the planet to be ugly, thereby ruining my good time: The truth is, I knew very well at the time that she loves the mountains, loves setting up camp and enjoying the air and the place, but doesn't like to hike. She has told me this many times, in English. By encouraging--make that emotionally blackmailing (oh, baby, just for a little while, it'll make me so happy) her into taking the hike with me, I was forcing her to act out a scene in a script I had written in my head for us, a script in which we are the Happy Family In The Emerald Pool Among The Redwoods. What right do I have to do that? None. That one I'm still guilty of: I take my family on vacations and literally hear their happy exclamations of how wonderful it all is in my head, and when they don't say the lines as written, I get unhappy. Now whose fault is that? When will I learn to write my own lines and let everybody else write theirs?
The next resentment--well, the next few get into stuff about sex, so we'll save those for their own post. They deserve it.
posted by Tom at 9:29 PM
5 Comments:
Although you left a very nasty comment on my blog a while back, I offer this:
Relationships are hard enough without having resentment for things that are years past. If I piled all that baggage one on top of the other, I would lose my mind. You may want to try not only forgiving but forgetting.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Christine--
I can't possibly have left a nasty comment on your blog. I love your blog. I just checked and the only comment I left at all was on January 15th, in answer to your request for mis-heard song lyrics. I offered "Our Father who art in Heaven, Hollywood be thy name", an authentic error from childhood--not a song, not terribly funny, but I can't see how it could be construed as nasty.
Still, you are right in what you say: forgetting is the goal. This is how I'm getting there.
Tom
tom, congratulations for responding to christine seriously as she simultaneously models resentment, and misplaced resentment at that, demonstrates the nasty attitude that deep seated resentment breeds and chastises you for not doing exactly what you actually are doing in your blog.
Sir, you are a truly patient gentleman.
Hey Tom
I really liked your post and for being so honest. You remind me of my husband in some ways. I know that he means well but sometimes I just wish he could put himself in my shoes. LOL I don't like to hike either. I guess at the end of the day its all about compromise and how much you love that person.
Take care
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