I am selfish.
I am prideful.
I am a bad partner.
I realized these things the other day. Felt them in my core. Vince and I had a fight. A good one. Not a light-hearted one about light switches or being late. It was a real one. The fight erupted out of nowhere, like all married fights do when you repress annoyances and let the tension build.
Mt Saint Kristina Erupts
I had started cleaning the house in preparation for company that was coming over the next day. Gianna had invited people over to take pictures before homecoming and I was starting to feel the pressure. Company is not my thing. I was stressed and commented to Vince that Gianna would need to help me out because there was a lot to do. This is something he had said earlier in the week. At the time, I had disagreed with him, underestimating the work and thinking I could do it without help. Of course, Kris. Because you think you are fucking superwoman. Why would you need help?
When I made that comment about Gianna, he reminded me that he told me that earlier in the week. This immediately got under my skin because of tensions I had built up earlier in the week without saying anything. Annoyances at other things he said but really it boiled down to me feeling shitty about myself. I was stressed about work and the house and my own self-worth. Maybe a mid-life crisis is brewing?
Regardless, no one likes an “I told you so.” How is reminding me that you said Gianna would need to help helping this moment?! What the hell am I supposed to say to that? You’re right, asshole?!
I seethed and made a passive-aggressive comment back to him.
He sensed my tension, and it ignited him as well. And that is how the fight started. Over needing help. Over unsaid annoyances, stress, kids, life. Things that are small but build into giants if not let go.
We’re Done
As the anger unfolded between us, Evie yelling for us to be quiet because we were louder than Baa Baa Black Sheep playing on the TV, we both angrily said we were basically done with each other. He moved to the office, trying to get caught up on work before we had to leave for Gianna’s game and I circled around the house, picking up and cleaning.
After a while, he made a comment through the office door that he couldn’t do this anymore. we weren’t right for each other, and more. It’s not the first time he’s said those things. We’ve had this discussion in the past.
I came into the office. The anger from the kitchen wasn’t here. It was more sadness and hurt. He was emotional and that broke me. In that room he said that I was selfish. That I think I’m the shit and try to change or fix him constantly like he’s not enough. Like he’s not happy or fine.
Other times, I would have scoffed at him. Me? Selfish? I bend over backwards for my kids. Most of my day revolves around their need and wants. I get up before daybreak just to give myself time to work/write because that’s the only time in my day I can grasp for myself.
Two Planets
But….that day, standing in the office, seeing his face as he spoke those words and knowing he believes them, it finally hit me. He’s right. I am those things. I am selfish. I do think I can do it all most of the time and that I am pretty awesome. But…I’m not awesome with him. I’m not giving with him. And I do try to fix/change him constantly.
I am a really shitty wife.
I am so focused on taking care of myself and my kids, giving them and me what we need, that I leave him out. Not that he needs taken care of in that same way, but I leave him out. Instead of pulling him into my little bubble, I let him drift outside. Like two planets that circle the sun. We rotate around the kids, passing each other, but never joining together.
I need to stop putting him last. Or worse, putting him in his own lane and not even looking back.
I try to fix him when he says he’s fine. I recommend therapists and medication. I listen to self-development stuff and think how it applies to him. Why? If he says he’s fine and happy…. why do I constantly think otherwise? Why do I need to change anything? I don’t. This needs to stop. I need to just enjoy, trust, and love the person he is without seeing areas to improve.
Time to Change
I felt so drained after our fight. I felt like I didn’t want to write this blog anymore. I didn’t want to share anything anymore. Not because of him, but just because of who I felt like right then. I wanted to curl into a ball and just disappear. But I couldn’t. We had to go to Gianna’s homecoming game. The parents were to pin the cheerleaders with a button. I couldn’t look like I was crying. Staring at the reflection in the mirror as I smeared foundation on my face to cover the red, I didn’t like the person looking back at me. It made me cry more.
I need to change. I need to be less selfish. I need to be a better partner. I need to stop thinking my shit doesn’t stink and that his does. He’s my partner. My team. I grew up hating group projects in school because I couldn’t rely on anyone to put in the same effort as me. I didn’t trust them with my grade. They couldn’t do anything as good as me. But this isn’t the right mentality to have with my husband.
We are a team. We are one planet circling that sun. I need to do better because, as much as we all joke that the kids would love two Christmases, I don’t want that.
I let Vince read this privately before I posted because I didn’t want him to feel like I was sharing a piece of our life that was meant to stay between us. After reading, he was ok that I let others read but he wasn’t happy that this post made it seem like he wanted me to change. The things I listed as not liking about myself are some of the things he loves about me.
But the fight was real. I am sharing because I think ‘raising the curtains’ on this part of our lives might be good for others to hear/read. Married life is not bliss. It’s work. It’s growing and changing. It’s calling each other assholes and then moving forward. It’s crying and feeling sometimes like you should just quit….but then you don’t. You hold on tighter because there’s more than just pride here. And it’s worth fighting through the shit and getting to the other side.