If you’re married, or living together in a monogamous relationship, chances are your relationship has brought on a higher level of intimacy, understanding, and frustrations. Be honest here, when you don’t know someone very well, the good person inside us makes excuses for their blunders. We forgive “strangers” because they don’t know us – they don’t know our ways. But when it comes to your spouse, or someone you live with, you’re less forgiving. You seem to understand your husband better now at this point in your relationship, but that understanding doesn’t always bring with it compassion.
Yesterday my husband J. and I finally got our new home. A little over a month ago we purchased a camper. We were finally able to go and pick it up yesterday evening. We were so excited. It’s bigger than our current “home” and we’re so ready to begin this new adventure in something that’s truly our own! We knew the process wouldn’t be easy – we really don’t have much experience pulling trailers, but I was confident things would work out in the end. While I am usually cool as a cucumber, J. tends to worry, and worry, and worry a little more. I frustrate him because he doesn’t think I’m taking the situation seriously, and instead of being concerned and furrow browed, I make light of circumstance. Of course I am taking it seriously, but my ID isn’t somber and worrisome. I’m light hearted, and hopeful just about all the time.
Normally with our clashing persona’s, we’re able to make this really great couple that can conquer the world. Last night, however, our personalities clashed and burned. It wasn’t that we both weren’t concerned with hauling the trailer to the new property just outside of town (about a 30min drive), it was that neither of us figured our problems would start with the camper not lowering onto our hitch. The easiest part of our journey turned out to be the most troublesome.
The problem, as it turns out, is that the stump which the front of the camper is resting on is much too tall for our truck. After a lot of underbrow looks, and a few exasperated sighs, we finally called it a night (it was late evening, and we didn’t want to try hooking up the camper in the dark!) and went home.
Today we are going to head out to the camper and try again. Even though our ideas about how to hook it up will differ, I’m confident that eventually we will get there.
I know we’re young, and I know we’ve got a lot to learn. Sometimes I don’t think J. understands just how much we have to learn, and that some of these things I’d like to learn from our parents. I know I’m to cleave unto my husband, but some times I just want to swallow “our” pride, and call mommy and daddy and get their advice. There are a lot of things that J. seeks his parents advice on, and it makes sense to him because they’re his parents. But when I want him to seek my parents advice, if only because they have more experience in a particular area (like campers, since the one we live in currently belongs to them) he seems to think I’m going against him in some way. I’m not trying to. I’m definitely not trying to undermine his position as my husband, but my pride is a little less than his in this area. I know he just doesn’t want my parents to think he can’t take care of their daughter, but in this situation I can’t imagine my parents even thinking this. I know who I married, and my parents trust my judgement, and besides that, they know I married a good man as well. They like J. and they just want us to be happy and healthy.
Do you ever feel like doing the smart thing would be the wrong thing, if only because the smart thing makes your spouse feel undermined? And if the smart thing is the wrong thing, it’s not really the smart thing afterall. That’s how I saw the situation last night. I don’t want to be responsible for being the cause of J.’s frustration or irritation, and I’m not so sure it’s my responsibility to press the issue, but I just wish growing pains weren’t so, well, painful.
I’m not always sure that conceding is right, but sometimes it’s worth it.