I am having issues. “What else is new?” you may be wondering…
Let me start with an anecdote. Yesterday we had a family softball game with Brian’s entire father’s side of the family. Most of the people were in the backyard with the grill and the food and the games, while I was inside helping Brian’s cousin’s wife, Robin, who is a new mother, with something to drink and to eat while she nursed. Being 7 months pregnant, I took an interest in chatting with her and get any advice she’d be willing to give. At one point, her husband, Luke, came in and asked if she wanted anything to eat. I was starting to get hungry, so I just said, half jokingly (but half not) how I wish I had a husband who would take care of me and bring me food. They called his name a couple of times, but Brian couldn’t hear very well outside and wasn’t convinced he was being called so he just ignored it. So Luke said he could get me some food, to which I responded that it’s not his job, and I’ll go get it myself.
When I ran into Brian outside, I told him how I wish he was the one to bring me food (again, half-joking, half not), and he said “oh I’m sorry, I’ve been here busy taking care of the dogs, and I’m worried that one of them is tired and hasn’t had any water.” So I said “no worries, I know where I stand in priority when it comes to the dogs” and he said “yeah, I’m glad you do!” He thought it was a clever comeback, but considering I was actually really wishing he was being more attentive, I took it to heart. I think that’s when it all started coming down.
I waited around for my burger, but it took a while to be ready… so I was hungry and just trying to keep busy, when I really just wanted to get off my feet.
Finally the food came and I went to find a spot to sit. I saw my husband standing next to an empty folding chair, leaning on the back of the seat with one hand, and holding a can of Coke with the other, so I thought I’d sit by him and maybe get to spend some time together and get over whatever these stupid feelings against him were. When I sat down, he lost his grip and spilled Coke on the chair and the back of my shirt. I got up immediately, and I apologized profusely… this didn’t help my state of mind. Now I was thinking “I’m such an inconvenience for him that I’m just making things worse by being around him.” So I took my food and sat elsewhere. I could feel tears welling up, but I tried to absorb them.
I needed napkins and a drink, but I felt like such a bother, I didn’t want to ask for help. Finally I swallowed my pride and a couple of people were kind enough to bring me napkins and a water bottle. So there I was, sitting on a folding chair, plate in one hand, closed water bottle in the other… until someone offered to open the bottle for me. With a big sigh of surrender, I said yes, I needed help. That’s when the tears started pouring out and there was no hiding them.
I got up as discreetly as I could, and went to sit on a bench at the front of the house, and I just started bawling. Turns out my husband had noticed where I had gone, and he followed behind me. He sat next to me and asked me what was wrong as many times as it took for me to realize that maybe I should say something, no matter how stupid I felt I was being, and how much I felt I shouldn’t be penalizing him for something he has NO idea he was (or wasn’t) doing to me.
So I told him the story, while still crying my eyes out, and added that we are caught in a vicious cycle: he has NEVER had to be so attentive with me because I have always been very independent, and because I pride myself in being independent, I don’t ask for help. The way I think about it is: I don’t need him to move heavy stuff for me, I don’t need him to open jars for me, I don’t need him to go to the store and get me something, I don’t need him to bring me water when I’m thirsty. I don’t NEED him. I never have. So in essence I’m asking him to do something he has never had to do for me before: to be attentive and preemptive about my needs. I’m also putting myself in a very vulnerable position: recognizing that I do need help.
He understood the conundrum, and he gave himself credit for being attentive whenever he did notice I needed help… unfortunately, it’s not very often.
Is this really happening? Am I really relinquishing my independence for the sake of getting my husband to pay me more attention? I have always prided myself in not needing help… and now that I do need it, I’m having a very difficult time accepting my shortcomings.
Does this ring a bell with anyone out there? Or is it my hormones that are making these little matters bigger than they actually need to be? Just wondering…
ina
Photo Credit: http://askmissalpha.com/2010/07/the-myth-of-the-independent-woman/
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