GH Saga, Part, well, too many to count.

[Underdog]

Hey there, GH! I'm glad that my post resonated with you. You got it! It's a wonderful thing that your wheels are turning and you want to dig a little deeper with your fear of conflict.

If it makes you feel better, I grew up with a verbally emotional family--behaviors that I see now as downright abusive and not "outspoken". We were guilty of name calling. We just figured since we kissed and made up later that we had tough skins. Hardly.

My siblings and I grew up very defensive. Any means of constructive criticism seemed to bring out those defensive behaviors, so that any attempts at discussing conflicts were immediatly countered with hostility and name calling at times. Not exactly a reaction that made anyone feel like they could be honest and expect to work on a solution.

Once I figured out that I could change that about myself, I began to think of ways that I might be able to teach my XH how to communicate with me in a healthy manner as well. You can imagine my dismay when I realized that it was probably going to be a lifetime mission... because I realized that his reactions began in childhood as well. Where I had a desire and motive to change, he didn't see that his way was all that bad. Even though he felt shame and anger after he reacted dishonestly, he was very quickly able to project back to me (or anyone else) that their behavior was the reason he felt threatened. Yes, you guessed it... someone else was responsible for his behavior.

In truth, he was responsible... he felt awful, and nobody knew it but him because he was too afraid to let others know how he was feeling. I chalked that one up to his parents, but I also know that he could change if I did. I'm not sure if I've been able to convince him that his parents aren't responsible for our D...

So if I had any advice on where to start it would be to begin every conversation with a goal in mind... to communicate, listen and respond maturely and appropriately. I'd ask myself if what I was about to say was honest, and I'd also ask myself if I was being unfair in any way, shape or form. If there is any discomfort in proceeding, button the lip until you figure it out.

BTW, Mr. Wonderful didn't have an affair. Infidelity was not part of our demise. BUT, you're absolutely right that he blamed me for his leaving. For the longest time, I couldn't figure out how that could be, given the fact that he left on his own accord. But he couldn't see that how he felt was the problem... not what I was doing. And even though I knew push had come to shove in our marriage and that we needed help, I had NO inkling that he was as bad off as he was. He blamed ME for how HE felt. I knew he wasn't happy and I asked him numerous times throughout our marriage to open up. He'd deny, deny, deny... telling me that I was imagining things and to leave him be. When he left, he told me he had been unhappy for years (no surprise there) and that he just hadn't told me. It took me quite awhile to see the dynamics of why, because I blamed him for not telling me for the longest time. I was finally able to see how I played a part in that.

I can promise you that thinking about your own feelings and how they affect communication will DEFINITELY take your mind off sex. It made me somewhat asexual for a long time. The pendulum swung the other way--to the point where I felt I couldn't have an effective conversation with any male adult. I figured that I'd have to talk to a man before I had sex with him, and that was a pretty big deterrent!

I know it's tough... all of it. I won't sugar coat or lie, either. But the lessons I learned as a result of his leaving were priceless. I'm a much happier, less angry woman than I have ever been in my life. Periodically, I thank him for them. He always responds with a very puzzled expression... but he knows I'm sincere and just can't figure out how I found a silver lining in a black cloud. One of these days, I'll share my secret with him. But he's going to have to ask...

TTFN and good luck! Have a great weekend.

Betsey