Life is good.
Last weekend Chet and I had an argument. Gasp. What? You guys fight and argue too? Yep, we sure do:) We’re both red-blooded people with strong opinions and the need to make our points shine brightly. Through our 25 years of marriage, (wow those years went by fast with a touch of slow) we’ve learned how to fight (I’m sure the 70-year-old me is laughing hard at such a bold statement, thinking “you fool”).
It began, like everything new and glorious usually does, with the usual super passionate arguments over the most nonsensical of stuff, made up by lots of fun spelled s-e-x. Since our marriage had a meeting of two cultures with a healthy dose of language barriers (meaning we could not talk to each other), our nonsensical stuff multiplied exponentially;) Now, if the older me could’ve beamed back in time and had a talk with the younger me, I’m sure the younger me would’ve beaten her up first then maybe paid partial attention to what she had to say. Don’t sweat the small stuff- fantastic advice! Yes, he thinks you’re beautiful, no your butt is not bigger than usual, you’re boobs are perfect and what are we fighting about?
Next phase is called “the exhaustive faze”. This phase arrives, oddly enough, with the presence of babies, and lasts way too long. Through this phase, you fight mostly by mumbling and eye rolling since you’re too exhausted to come up with smart alec remarks, not after you’ve been sleep deprived for millions of seconds, you can’t seem to walk in straight lines some days, you have vomit and dried food tattooed all over your clothes and haven’t worn a sexy dress in decades, partly because you no longer fit in one or you don’t see the point in wearing anything that would end up with sex, mostly because you’re too exhaused for such rigurous workout. Now is not the time to ask: How do I look, honey? He still loves you with the extra this, that, and the other, what will turn him away is your whining or showiung his disrespect. Find a good girlfriend and let it all out remembering that afterwords is her turn. Here’s when you would love the old you to come and give you advise, but she’s too bruised from the earlier phase and missing in action.
Next phase is the “teenage trial phase”, a phase you spend most days on the accused bench while all your faults are thrown in your face with the passion of a volcano that just erupted and does not show signs of slowing down. Here you spend many days praying the trial will end soon and no permanent damage was done in the process. This is a phase where you could very well lose your marbles, as you’re facing your accuser (in the case of multiple accusers, God help you! we’re praying for you), and you get so fatigued from all the explanations you’ve come up with, that you don’t have time to argue with your spouse and he/she either becomes your best friend (in our case) or your worst enemy.
The phase we’re now in, title-wise it’s still up for grabs, due to disease and a near-death-experience, there’s hardly any issues that come up worth enough to argue over. Life comes into prospective and priorities are re-aligned into a much healthier pattern, also there’s the partial short-term-memory-loss which helps:))))) Or the low energy level. Chet and I spend lots of time enjoying each other now, we choose both our friends and battles wisely and let life be lived in the moment. However, now and again tentions arise and even though our arguments are rare, not dramatic like before, more philosophical while trying to emprove our communciation sklills, they do end up teaching us something (because we let). Like the argument we had last week. I’ve learned that Chet’s expressed frustration everytime he drives and encounters bad roads, construction and bad drivers, is not directed at me even if his words come across as so.
“Why is this road closed? Why is that car cutting us off? Why is he crossing the road on a red light?” My defensive attitude comes from waaaay back, from a time of childhood dramas and traumas when I was made to believe that everything bad in this world was my fault even if I had nothing to do with it. Once I realized the connection, and mourned for a few minutes all the years of stress I could’ve eliminated out of my life if this lesson came to me sooner, things were explained accordingly. Chet can express all his frustrations freely, only slightly redirected:
“That guy’s a bad driver!” Here’s where I come in and cheer him on “You’re right, he really is a bad driver.”
I’m not sure about the next phase since we’re not there yet but it will be better, because with every phase we’ve accumulated data and enough information to graduate with a doctorate degree. I’m sure most of you have graduated with excellent degrees and have lots of experience:) Have a great day today and remember when you argue next, the degree is coming:)