I have been married for almost two years, and it has only been within the last few months that I have really started to feel like a wife. It’s true—until recently, I felt like just Poor Kyle’s girlfriend and not his wife at all. It was very bad for my conscience—there was a part of me that felt very wicked because I wasn’t actually married to Poor Kyle, but instead just some hussy living in sin.
Isn’t that bizarre?
I suppose part of the reason I never felt like a wife was because we’d dated for longer than we had been married. We dated for two years, and now we’ve been married for nearly two years, but before this, we’d been boyfriend-girlfriend [hello, seventh grade terminology!] for longer than we’d been husband-wife. In my mind, because of some nonexistent formula I made up, years dated and years married add up to zero, so now it’s like our lives can actually start. [What? That doesn’t make perfect sense to you? Meh. I have always been lousy at math. It’s high time I make up my own equations, don’t you think? Can’t stand Algebra? That’s okay, go ahead and create a different kind of math. Don’t worry if it is logical or not—just wing it!]
Aside from my Marriage Theorem, it seems like it’s taken two entire years just for us to figure out how to communicate with each other.
For example, I have come to realise that I expect—require, even—clear, straightforward conversations with Poor Kyle. I don’t understand him when he beats around the bush, because Hi, I’m Camille And I Overthink Everything. So when he says, “What are your plans for dinner tonight,” I’m all, “Why is he asking me that? Is he wanting to hang out with friends? I don’t really have any plans, but I’ll make something up if it will keep him at home tonight. Or maybe he wants to go out to dinner, just the two of us! Awww…so sweet. Wait—he’s only sweet on my birthday, and that was days ago! He’s probably just checking to see what’s on the menu so he can brace himself if it’s something he can’t stand, like cream of mushroom soup. Such a jerk. Doesn’t he know that I work hard to plan meals around what’s in season and what’s on sale so that we can eat frugally and healthily and not blow our entire paychecks on fast food and wasted produce? He might think it’s easy to plan meals, BUT HE HAS NO IDEA HOW HARD HE MAKES IT, AND WHY CAN’T HE—JUST ONCE!—EAT LEFTOVERS FOR LUNCH?!”
And what I say is, “You know what? I don’t care what you do! You don’t appreciate me—you never have—and you can eat your OWN MOTHERLOVING DINNER TONIGHT!”
When really all he was wondering was what we were having for dinner. What he should have said, then, was “What’s for dinner?”
So I need straightforward communication. Obviously.
But for Poor Kyle, when I am blunt and to-the-point, he interprets it as being abrupt and unfeeling. Like when I say, “I hate it when you leave for trips,” he feels like I’m saying, “I hate YOU when you leave for trips, and I’ll never get over my angst, so you might as well not even bother coming home!” What I need to be saying, in a more gentle manner, is “I hate feeling so sad and lonely when you leave for trips. I wish you didn’t have to go.”
I’m glad that now, two years into our marriage, I can finally feel like a wife instead of a brazen harlot from Madame Mimi’s House of Whores.I’m so glad we’ve finally approached (note I said “approached” and not “reached” {because we’re still working on it}) this point of open communication. It has been very helpful to our marriage. Really, it was only a matter of time before Poor Kyle innocently announced he was going out with friends and I would freak out because HE’D TOLD ME HE DOESN’T LOVE ME ANYMORE AND HIS FRIENDS MAKE BETTER COMPANIONS THAN I DO OR EVER COULD!
I’m really glad we never got to that point.
And also, in re-reading this post, I’ve come to realise just how deserving Poor Kyle is of his prefix.
Poor, poor Poor Kyle.
What about you? Let’s all take this Monday to reflect… What breakthroughs have you reached lately? Have they been a long-time coming, like mine, or were you lucky to be a quick learner?
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