What do I do now with you?

[optimist]

Thank you Pam, Shiny, Holdingon, Totite and Azure. I have been lurking and trying to keep up with people's threads, but I just do not feel up to posting. I am re-examining a whole set of ASSumptions and finding out too many things about myself and my M to presume to give anyone advice.

I am still keeping up my new attitude, trying to tune to my H's thoughts rather than reacting to my perceptions. It is not as difficult as I have feared but I have found myself (my impatience) to be my worst enemy.

It is terribly tempting to think 'I have done enough. It is his turn now.' I have had to remind myself that it is only 12 days since I started my own sacred new year. I borrowed the idea from the Jewish great holiday of Rosh Hashanah, a time to begin introspection, looking back at the mistakes of the past year and planning the changes to make in the new year. It is followed by a time for reconciliation, repentance, prayer and good deeds.

I am not jewish but I can recognize a good idea when it stares me in the eye, so I decided that on September 15th started the new me. It may be pure chance that our major fight was on the eve of that holiday. And that I was mentally ready, finally, to put myself on his shoes. Or it may not be pure chance. But it happened.

For the time being, I am reading a great book by Ellyn Bader and Peter Pearson called "Tell Me No Lies." I first saw it at the bookstore and it struck me hard. There was a declaration of raw truths boiling beneath the surface of a couple that could have been written for us. Here is an extract:

He says, "You say you are a woman and therefore understand feelings. You say you are relationship oriented. You may understand tens, hundreds, even thousands of people, but you don't understand one very important person in your life, me. As much as I want to blame you for that, as much as I want to shove your hypocritical 'understanding' down your throat, as much as I want to throtle you for all those barbs you throw at me, I know deep in my heart that it is not all your fault.

"I feel (yes, there is that dreaded word I am accused of not appreciating) unequal to the task of explaining myself. I search for words to describe those tender areas that I rarely investigate in myself, let alone describe to you. Here's what I find so impossibly hard to express: No matter how clever I am, no matter how responsive I am to you or the world it is never enough. There it is. What I don't want to say aloud is this: I feel a chronic sense of inadequacy.

"So I stonewall. I defend myself when I feel another verbal attack from you. It really pisses me off when you say you can talk to your women friends so much more easily. Great. Tell me one more time that you wish I were like a woman. What an extraordinary slap coming from someone who has staked such a claim on being "understanding.'

"What you don't know, and what I struggle in my own fumbling way to tell you, is that indeed I want to be your hero. I want to be a good provider and feel the deep satisfaction of providing well. I also want to tell you that I really want to do just about all the things you are so hungry for me to do. But I don't. So what I do is to become secretive. I lie to you. I lie to myself. I drink. I have affairs. I lust after money. I strive for recognition. I hide out with the television, the newspaper, sports, and hobbies because the truth is that too often I want to get away from how I feel when I am around you. I hate that I don't have the courage to be honest with you-or with myself.

"When I feel attacked, my choices are to either blame you and defend myself (and believe me, I've learned the severe limits of doing that) or stonewall and feel like a wimp. I know you think I have all the power when I stonewall, but I feel anything but powerful. The irony is that if I tell you about my powerlessness, I feel more like a wimp while you, dear wife, think I am doing great by expressing my feelings. Your emotional health is my psychological poison."

And she responds: "As long as we are in the truth-telling mode, let me tell you a few things. I want to look up to you and admire you. Instead, I don't respect you. You want to be my hero. Well, I would admire you for a whole lot less than you imagine. You think I'm so complicated. I'm really a lot simpler than you think. I want to count on your involvement, count on you to coparent, and count on you to come through when you say you'll do something. And, yes, to even occassionally ask me what I feel.

"I really don't expect of you what you expect of yourself. What I really want is a partner to share my life with. A partner who can sometimes be romantic. A partner who cleans up his own messes. A partner who sometimes gets a baby-sitter and takes me out. A partner who can anticipate problems at home so I don't have to think of everything first.

"Unlike you, I do try to tell you about my struggle. I must admit, though, when you feel the sting of the verbal lash, I think to myself, Good, maybe I finally got his attention, and he'll wake up from his sleepwalking. I lie not out of self-protection like you do but out of helplessness and resignation. I give up and then you don't get the best parts of who I am or the potential of who I could become."

I hit me between the eyes and I nearly ran to H to show him... It was exactly us. I held myself because it would have brought everything back to him in an otherwise innocent family outing. But I bought the book and have been reading it. I am learning a lot about truth and how my own behavior facilitates lies.