Me, in the box
Recently some friends of ours went to a marriage conference. They were really excited about what they came away with from the conference and they told us all about it over takeout. (Takeout that I had to drive all the way across town to take back because they gave me Wonton Soup when I ordered Hot and Sour soup and I must have my Hot and Sour Soup.)
The premise of the conference was that men need respect and women need love. Men need sex, women need communication. And I thought that was a very interesting perspective, but not necessarily a box that I fit into. I thought, “I need respect. I need sex. And I need love.” (Did I just say that for the whole internet to read? Oh, my.) It wasn’t until a lengthy conversation with Jim the other night that I realized that I may just fit into that box.
We had a conversation about his responsibilities – being the primary breadwinner – and my responsibilities – being the primary caregiver to the kids and housekeeper which I really, really don’t like, (the housekeeping part, not the kid part.) Basically after two hours of discussing, it boils down the fact that Jim feels love from me by my cleaning the house and caring for the kids. But I wouldn’t think that Jim wasn’t showing me love if he wasn’t bringing in enough money. I would think that he wasn’t showing me love if he wasn’t being sweet to me, showing affection, being kind and considerate and thoughtful, and showing me respect.
My first reaction to Jim’s point of view was to feel totally manipulated. “If you loved me, you’d clean the house.” Not that he said that, but it’s what it made me think at first. It also didn’t really appeal to the (semi) feminist in me. Why should I be the one who has to do the laundry and clean the house? Why should HE require this of me? When I’m going off on these little tangents in my brain, I hate when reasoning enters in. It’s just a division of labor. Someone has to do these things, and that person is me. I suppose if I wanted to go work full time, Jim could start shrinking washing the clothes.
And it dawned on me that he feels that the best way to show me love is for him to go do his job and do it well and provide for our family. In turn, he’d interpret my show of love in the same way – by me fulfilling my obligations. This was a really startling revelation for me! How could cleaning the house (etc.) say that I love him? Being sweet and thoughtful and loving means that I loved him…. doesn’t it?
And I realized that all this meant that we really do view love differently. While he should be aware of the way that I interpret love, I should realize that he’s doing the very best to show me love in HIS way. And while I should be aware of the way he interprets love, he should realize that I’m doing the very best to show him love in MY way. Alternately, I think it’s best for both of us to try and show each other love in the way it will be best understood.
And it made me wonder, how many marriages fail because each person can’t realize that the other person’s lack of action isn’t saying, “I don’t love you.” It’s just a lack of action. I don’t know, maybe it’s about love and respect. But I really think it’s more about communication. We’ve been married six years, and it’s taken me this long to realize that we view things differently. It’s taken six years of talking and fighting and making up and doing it all over again to finally come to this revelation. What will I think in six more years? I can’t wait to find out.