I remember my very first encounter with "romance." I was five. Samantha, the girl with long blonde hair always pulled super taught against her head to form pig-tails, lived next door. She and I did everything together: We watched cartoons, we ate our lunch outside on her cool kid-sized picnic table, played with her Barbies, or, with my Barbies (outwardly disguised as GI Joe's). What solidified my undying love was the realization that we could build a tent with her bed linens, one that we occupied all night, along with our flashlights and other important sundry items without a single violation of our "protective shield"
That's why on the day her parents so rudely swept her away to move to another state, I was devastated! I remember frantically running in to my mother (who somehow already knew about the move) crying. "Now who am I going to marry."
I tell that story because it makes me look like an adorable five year old.
No seriously, I tell it to remind myself that even with the paradigm of a five year old, there was only room for what there was room for. I, of course, had no idea how my life's journey would look at that age, with one exception: I was certain I would marry Samantha. There was that much space in my mind for how marriage, for me, would look.
While it's important to consider the thoughts, ideas and inspirations for which we create and maintain space in our mind, what I'm really exploring is kind of the reverse side of that. What can one do when he, either intentionally or unintentionally makes "space" for something he later regrets, an "allowance" for words or actions that separate and divide, rather than strengthen bonds of affection.
At the beginning of a relationship, loving attentiveness, excitement and passion are the norm. Arguments are often believed to be what those couples do and we can scarcely stand the thoughts of being in conflict with this person. Then it happens-- usually over sex, money or in-laws--and a space for a slightly higher level of aggressiveness or hostility, even an unusual emotional shut-down enters the scene. The activating event brings with it beliefs and/or thoughts that are strongly defended by each party. But, because the feeling of being in love is so vibrant, a make-up occurs quickly and a sense of equilibrium is re-established.
Strangely, that equilibrium intensives the surprise when the next event occurs. This time, voices are raised a little higher, or, perhaps the tone is more cutting or words more poignant. Over time, if patterns remain the same, the conflict/hostility "envelope" gets pushed a little farther. Eventually-- without an intervention to enhance communication and empathy skills--the emotional and physical well-being of both individuals are compromised because of the intensity of the conflicts between them.
Like some self-respecting, almost middle-aged, gay couples, Sean and I went on our first date, and, just simply never went back. No, seriously, Sean never slept in his apartment again because we were so happy together. In fact, a few weeks into our co-habitation, my Land Lord , seeing a change in my affect, asked what caused "that glow. I said, proudly, pointing at him, "I've fallen in love."
Almost all of our road trips for floral design were marked with goofy laughter. I have no idea what we were laughing about...we didn't care, really. We had awesome sex a. Nope, there was absolutely no room in our joint paradigm for hostility in the form of yelling nor violence cleverly disguised as name calling. When disagreement arose, one talked while the other listened, followed by some variation of reflective listening. We certainly weren't perfect in our use of effective communication skills, but we always tried.
Things are different now.
One year later, anger has become comfortable. Blame-finding has replaced the quick acceptance of responsibility, openness and the desire to understand. Spontaneous acts of affection and kindness seem, on a level, to have been replaced by spontaneous upsets that then take hours, sometimes days, to resolve.Often with a different upset setting in before the first is even close to resolution. I realize how bleak this all sounds. Unfortunately, however, we've found themselves in some trouble; we've fallen into some pretty shitty habits. Or, better stated, we've developed mal-adaptive coping strategies and dysfunctional patterns of behavior that have begun and will continue to erode the affection between us if we don't change.
What has happened between us? It's pretty simple, I think: we gradually made space for stuff we weren't expecting. We increased the volume of our voices when an argument; we increased the frequency of conflicts; and we increased the intensity of the already emotionally charged energy between us. What happened is this: our egos developed the notion that being right is more important than being present and before long we we pushing that envelop even further.
Like some self-respecting, almost middle-aged, gay couples, Sean and I went on our first date, and, just simply never went back. No, seriously, Sean never slept in his apartment again because we were so happy together. In fact, a few weeks into our co-habitation, my Land Lord , seeing a change in my affect, asked what caused "that glow. I said, proudly, pointing at him, "I've fallen in love."
Almost all of our road trips for floral design were marked with goofy laughter. I have no idea what we were laughing about...we didn't care, really. We had awesome sex a. Nope, there was absolutely no room in our joint paradigm for hostility in the form of yelling nor violence cleverly disguised as name calling. When disagreement arose, one talked while the other listened, followed by some variation of reflective listening. We certainly weren't perfect in our use of effective communication skills, but we always tried.
Things are different now.
One year later, anger has become comfortable. Blame-finding has replaced the quick acceptance of responsibility, openness and the desire to understand. Spontaneous acts of affection and kindness seem, on a level, to have been replaced by spontaneous upsets that then take hours, sometimes days, to resolve.Often with a different upset setting in before the first is even close to resolution. I realize how bleak this all sounds. Unfortunately, however, we've found themselves in some trouble; we've fallen into some pretty shitty habits. Or, better stated, we've developed mal-adaptive coping strategies and dysfunctional patterns of behavior that have begun and will continue to erode the affection between us if we don't change.
What has happened between us? It's pretty simple, I think: we gradually made space for stuff we weren't expecting. We increased the volume of our voices when an argument; we increased the frequency of conflicts; and we increased the intensity of the already emotionally charged energy between us. What happened is this: our egos developed the notion that being right is more important than being present and before long we we pushing that envelop even further.
It breaks my heart, really. I love Sean, and I want him as my partner, my friend, my confidant. I want to feel the joy I felt simply being together. I want to experience the unrestrained laughter and silliness we enjoyed while just driving to an event. I want to feel the affection of breakfast in bed or a hot bath and candles or a goofy card that reads with the simple sentiment "I love you...you're my best friend."
So, not having the ability to turn back time, how can we "reset" the level to which we are willing-to push the envelop? How can we go back to the times when an argument was just that: a discussion between two individuals? Like usual, I want these answers, and I want them now, but alas, the answers, I believe, will come, when I'm ready to receive them. I fucking hope so!
I'll keep you posted.
*Yes it's true! I ended this sentence with a preposition. To my high school teacher, my apologies.
