By Becky Roehrs
I’m divorced. After five years. But I had been miserable and wanted a divorce after a few months.
I had a fifteen-year relationship with a woman. I was miserable most of the time. I was so relieved when my girlfriend wanted to break up.
I finally realized that I had to STOP giving undying loyalty to my relationships.
Instead, I needed to respect myself. Remain loyal to myself.
I. Had. To. STOP. Giving. Up. On. Myself.
I had to STOP making the other person more important than me.
But I also had to listen to the other person, and speak up, especially when one or both of us were tired, hungry, frustrated, angry, or in physical pain.
So I practiced.
I dated people, but I didn’t pack up the U-Haul and move in with them.
And I observed. I realized I was now picking people who had a long list of people they took care of.
And on their list, we were last. Their grown children, ex’s, parents, employers, you-name-it, were more important.
And I didn’t get stuck with them in last place. I moved on.
I decided it was better to be alone, even though I had trouble living by myself. I still had nightmares, nighttime panic attacks, and little sleep.
I was afraid I couldn’t love people, that I was unlovable. That my dad was right, I really was crazy.
I kept dating, but I gave up on love.
I thought “It’s ok to date. Even if it never leads to anything.”
And that’s when I met someone and fell in love. And they fell in love with me.
And instead of being “nice,” I tried to be as honest as I could about what I needed. And I asked what they needed. And I listened. I really listened.
And it was hard. But I said to my new boyfriend:
“You can leave anytime. I love you, and want to be with you, but if you don’t feel the same way, you’re free to go.”
And I meant it. And he said something similar to me…
And we’ve said it many times to each other. Not as a threat, or in anger, or to make the other person feel guilty. But to affirm, “I choose you, I love you, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
And we have so much fun together. We laugh. And we’re playful and silly with each other. We play music. We sing.
Sometimes, we talk for hours, and we don’t notice it.
We often get lost when driving. We’re so focused on the other that we forget where we are going!
But we do disagree.
Big-Time disagree.
We don’t disagree about money, religion, family or sex. None of the typical junk. But we have very different political views.
The first time we really had it out, he walked away.
I was stunned.
I thought “How could he walk away? Wasn’t there some unwritten rule that you had to fight it out? Have a winner?”
Uh, no. It was so hard for me to disengage. The first time, I followed him, tried to keep arguing, but he wouldn’t have it. And I walked away.
I didn’t walk away to pout or get angry.
I saw how disrespectful I’d been. How explosive the situation could have gotten.
How lucky I was that he had had that self-control to walk away and that I hadn’t listened at first. But then I did. I heard him.
And each time we fought, I learned from him, to back off, stop arguing. Cool down. Talk about it later when we were calm. Or drop it!
Finally, I was able to walk away first, before words were spoken that we couldn’t take back.
Until the time I got so mad I called him a childish name, while almost stomping my feet.
And he laughed.
I was sooooo embarrassed. “How could I be so childish?”
And I apologized, my face beet red, feeling ridiculous. It was like I was ten years old, all over again.
And he teased me the rest of the day about it. And we laughed and laughed.
And we agreed not to talk about politics.
And we don’t.
And when one of us is tired or hungry or frustrated, one of us points it out to the other, and we take a time-out. We rest, eat, do something alone. Take a walk. Play or listen to music. Write. Sing. Read. Relax.
He’s learned to warn me when he’s hungry or feeling sick since he gets grumpy.
I let him know when I’m thirsty; I get light-headed and spacey. I can’t make decisions or listen as well.
We tell each other when we’re tired or out of sorts. It’s like we’re putting up a road sign for each other: “Watch out for the bumpy road ahead! ”
At first, one of us would act out, and after we were both irritated, the other would say, “what is wrong with you?” And we each would tell the other, what we’d done to give the other “hints,” about what was wrong.
For example, in the past, he would tell me off and on that he didn’t want to look at stuff while we were shopping. By the time we were in the car going home, he was awfully agitated. When I asked why, he’d say he was feeling ill and had been trying to get home for over an hour.
That was one of many times, when one of us would look at the other, and say, “For God’s sake, just tell me!”
Why do we think that when we love someone, that we are both in a sci-fi movie, and are capable of mind-reading?
Until we can read minds: “For God’s sake, just tell each other!”