I’m married to a lovable man.

 

Mike, the Wonderful One. My good man.

We’ll celebrate 35 years this June.

During our 10 month engagement we had the constant awareness of “You’re the best thing ever” “When I’m not with you I’m absolutely miserable.” We lived in different cities so we honestly pined away for each other. Oh the pain. During that time I thought if I ever, EVER hurt Mike’s feelings I’d run, not walk, to tell him how sorry I was. Yep, I was certain of that.

When we got married we were literal babies. I mean it, babies. Age 21 and 22. A man said, Do you?  We each replied, I do! and out we popped, blissfully wed. Declarations of “Marriage is the best thing ever,” “You are the most wonderful person ever,” carried us along in our blue-sky baby life.

But it didn’t take long. Some clouds showed up.  I was noticing that Mike needed to verbally process things. A lot. He had deep feelings, thoughts, and convictions that needed to be expressed. Listening to him was hard and laborious for me. Where did he hide this deep-feeling, talking man when we were engaged?  The weight of listening to all his thoughts and emotions nearly drowned me. Because I didn’t know what to do with any of it.  I’d sit there nodding, not speaking.  Mike would see me and think to himself, “Oh she’s not understanding. I must explain to her in a different way so she’ll understand all.”  No.

I heard it’s often the norm for a woman to be the talker/feeler and a man to be the quiet do-er. That model didn’t fit any of the walls of our apartment.

We had a communication issue.  Mike had to communicate and could to do so for long periods of time.  I couldn’t and didn’t want to.

Then there was this. Mike loved to give & receive physical affection. It was his #1 item on the list of The 5 Love Languages.  Physical affection was way down at the bottom of my list.  (see list of the 5 love languages at end of this post)

My #1 love language was ‘Acts of Service.’  So we went along giving the other what we each wanted to receive. If the other didn’t catch the hint we’d only intensify our efforts. What happened, you might ask?

I ended up feeling smothered. I would tentatively ask him to please give me some space. I needed room for my feelings to breathe even though they had such tiny lungs. I’m sure Mike started to wonder if I could ever deepen my love for him. And – how could she feel smothered by my love?

I would do kind acts of service for Mike.  And then he wouldn’t notice. And I’d be sad inside that he didn’t.

Marriage is just hard.

And the inevitable happened.  I know it’ll be hard to believe, but I actually hurt Mike’s feelings. Well, more than once. Did I run, not walk to proclaim my sorrow?  No, sadly no. I seemed incapable of it. Selfishness was clutching onto my innards, my mouth seemed to be stapled shut. Apologizing to him turned out to be one of the hardest things to do. Oh my. How badly I needed help, someone to help me with my shriveled up insides.

Fast forward to the years with young children. My days are filled with all-consuming chores, decisions and teaching our kids. Mike’s career was doing well. He was working his way up and had white space in his week.  That was nice because he could be more present with us when he was home.  But he still wanted me and my attention. But my attention was taken. My job required overtime. My motto was: ” work first, relax after”. One weekend Mike saw that I was at full steam, getting things done. He took the unfolded laundry and piled it over himself jokingly telling me that he was a task that needed attention. I don’t think I laughed at the hint.

Then there was a tough time we experienced when our kids were around junior high.

We dropped them off at a relative’s house and headed to Galveston for a weekend away.  On the way our van broke down. I very much dislike breaking down on the road. We ended up spending a night in the Motel 6 in Huntsville. Because of some stresses we had at the time (none to do with him) I wasn’t doing well inside, having stuffed everything deep down into my cauldron of “everything bad and hard.” Mike asked if I was ok.  I could only answer that I felt numb. Nothing else. I was numb. Mike didn’t know how to receive that and I didn’t know how to explain it.  He told me later he was troubled, worried that for the rest of our marriage he’d have a wife who felt nothing at all for him or for anything else.  We were able to redeem the weekend in Galveston once our van was fixed and we came out of that foggy time. But that low point stayed with us.

Fast forward to now. Life has worked on us both. But we have switched places.

Mike has done well in his career. But his job is all consuming. The demands tap his mental, emotional and physical energy every single day; but the highest resource it takes is his time.  My situation is the opposite.  I have hard or busy seasons but they’re not the norm.

Along with time demands, our love languages have changed.  I’m wanting and craving affection now. But for Mike, that need has fallen to 3rd, maybe 4th place.  I’m learning how to ask for that need to be met. Mike values quality time the most now.  That’s been a constant desire for him because he still verbally unpacks every day.

I’m used to that now. Today when we catch up I practice letting myself be known and I practice listening to him, staying present, instead of that “deer in headlights” paralysis like when we were babies. But this is an effort for me. I’m still learning.

I think we understand each other better now.  At least at this moment in time.

What would sound like torture to me is actually life-giving to him and vice-versa. Like him journaling for 2 hours and reading books I’d never want to read. And me loving levity, laughter, silliness and creativity. We do not like the same foods, at all. And we’re ok with that. Knowing these about each other helps us try to meet somewhere in the middle. Try being the key word here.

Today we laugh at the stupidest, weirdest things. We’ve developed our own loving teasing words of affection. We often sing them to each other. It’s our little thing.

We got married thinking we were so alike. And we were back then. Back then we agreed that meat was the ONLY acceptable pizza topping in the world.  Now my diet restricts me from even eating a pizza but if I could, it would be loaded with veggies.  I look at us now and see how so very different we are.  But different isn’t bad.

35 years later these are still true:

During sad movies he’s the one crying.

I’m the one paying the bills.

He’s plunging the potties.

I’m suggesting what he should take when he’s sick.

He still prefers the mountains and I still prefer the beach. He likes courtroom drama.  I like British drama.

Today I’m most thankful for this:  I’m receiving his affection in new, deeper ways. He is not smothering me anymore.

• For those who aren’t familiar with the 5 Love Languages written about by the author Gary Chapman, they are:  Physical touch, Gifts, Quality Time, Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.