Fighting Fair

What do you get when you put two individuals of Irish decent (one of which is also German...and that would be me), a hot topic, and the love of verbal conflagration (a large destructive fire, which is perfect for this scenario)?  Answer:  Chris and Lael.

I don't actually enjoy arguing.  I find it a waste of time and rather frustrating.  My husband, on the other hand, loves to argue for the sake of arguing...until it gets fractious.  But sometimes it is necessary to go after a topic and pursue it until it has been beaten to death (the topic that is...not either of the participants).  I have learned over the years, in the intellectual academic circles I have run in, how to argue in a detached manner.  And psychology has trained me wonderfully to turn situations around to my advantage by continually throwing an attack right back at the other person in the form of a question.  I have a quick mind and easy access to a rather large repertoire of vocabulary, so I generally stay neutral in an argument while probing the other person's ideologies.

BUT...It is not the same with one's husband...At least not with mine.  There is this need to allow the other person to really know you, to know how you feel about a topic, and whether logical or not, there is a desire that you and that one you love are on the same page about things, so when you are not, well, at least for me, I find I'm rather passionate in my presentation. 

I have learned over the years that my ability to level a field is rather significant and a really bad idea, because it creates enemies and hurts people, so I have constructed boundaries that exist to keep me from saying that one thing I cannot take back. When fighting with a loved one there has to be rules.  There has to be a line drawn that both parties refuse to cross.  Because even though, "I'm sorry" will cover much, it does not take back that one thing that was said by the person who loves us and knows our weak point and what we most dislike about ourselves. 

Personally, I believe fighting fair is a learned thing, and I also believe that fighting is part of a healthy relationship.  We have too many passive-aggressive people in our society who have never learned that fighting does not make a person bad, it makes them significant.  What I mean by that is that when you are willing to fight for something you believe in, and fight fair, your stance and beliefs become significant as does your place in the world, and there is no place for manipulation which is so deadly to relationships.

I am learning how to fight with my husband.  One has to consider personality and background because they certainly have an impact.  Both of us are intelligent, hotblooded, and stubborn, though I would admit to being much more animated than he when putting my point across. I blow hot very quickly about things (I'm blaming it on the German) and am over it rather quickly.  I'm like a volcano that has to periodically spout off.  He tends to be more like a pressure cooker, building and building until one day he just explodes.

I am learning that he is only deaf when it comes to everyday things, but in a fight situation his hearing become quite acute,  and suddenly most everything I say becomes yelling to him.  It's a mystery to me how that happens, but I'm going to become a verbal fight ninja, implementing my side of the argument with a whisper.  I'm not sure what his strategy will be but I am certainly interested to find out!

I was thinking about this topic yesterday as I was running some errands.  What I decided was that at 40 years old we are both very much shaped by what has come our way in life, and that is a good thing. We do not tend to waffle on beliefs, because we have had time to test drive them.  We are secure in who we are, having spent some time throwing out what we don't want and hanging on to what we do.  I believe that keeping an open mind to the other person's perceptions and stances on matters is valuable, because if you can't entertain ideologies from the person you are closest to, how will you ever stretch?  My husband challenges me to think and to be a better person.  That does not mean I change what I believe and go with what he does.  What it forces me to do is to reassess what I believe to make sure it IS what I really believe.  And I so appreciate that he is able to challenge me in that way.

Perfect Eyesight

I have had perfect eyesight my whole life.  It is amazing the things you take for granted...Well, the things I take for granted.  I have discovered that with 40 (and a doctoral program) comes a decrease in the ability to see up close...or far away.  And then there is the depth perception issue...I don't have any.  And the night blindness...well, that just goes hand in hand with the rest. 

Now maybe I have been in denial, but it seems to me that every since I turned 35, my body has begun to shed healthy parts like a sinking ship throws out superfluous cargo to stay afloat.  Why is that?  And this year seems to have accelerated the process in many ways.  My hair wants to turn frosty, my face has begun to develop character (in the form of lines, lines, and more lines), and my ability to metabolize and lose weight has seriously dropped off (not that it was all that stellar to begin with). 

40 is supposed to look serene, but I gotta tell ya, it's going to take an arsenal to hit that goal!  I take my vitamins, I try to get enough sleep, I attempt to monitor what I'm eating, and I finally broke down and went to the eye doctor.  I am one of these people who prefers ignorance over knowledge when it comes to health.  I would just rather not know, but my husband has been getting on me to go get my eyes checked, so I went.

And now, I will be sporting a pair of glasses on a regular basis.  I have worn glasses before for reading an such, but this is a bit more committed.  I have friends my age who are having babies, and the sheer thought of it sends me to the chiropractor.  I can't imagine carrying anything other my chest around for nine months (and even that I am working to get out of).  I have friends who have suggested I have a baby now that I'm happily married.  My knee jerk reaction is to hit hard and fast, leaving very little blood...But I smile and consider that "happily married" is something I want to hang on to, not take for a test run.

Next will be the dentist.  And a big part of me wonders if I will have to have my teeth floated...

L

Investing

I'm painting.  As you can see my canines are quarantined, and they look none too happy do they?  My husband has been relegated to the bedroom except for heavy lifting and an occasional rescue that involves more paint, a rag, or longer arms and more height.

Originally I wanted to paint the bathroom, but once I got started I just couldn't stop.  I have now painted the bathroom, hallway, utility room, kitchen, dining room, and most of the living room.  It's amazing how a slight change in color can alter a living space.  The walls before were either a horrible brownish-purplish-tanish color or a cream, depending on the space.  I went with slightly darker than an almond color, not anything too drastic, but it is amazing the difference such a subtle change can render.  The place feels different.

I didn't take before pics, so the transformation is lost...But trust me when I say, its a clean slate and a warmer atmosphere.  And on a personal level, this new look gives me an investment in this house.  It is difficult to walk into someone else's home as "the wife" and make it one's own without seeming to "take over".  This way I have invested time and energy into the place in a way that was needed and improved without taking away.  I now "own stock" in the place, if you will, and that makes me invested in making it a home.  I love that thought, and I love knowing I did something major in my own way on my own time that will benefit us all.

L

Introducing Dixie and Dexter

This is my Dixie.  When I married Chris, I inherited this lively little boxer...And I love her.  She is fun and strong and so good.  Dixie has inherited me as well, and I love that she loves me back.  She likes to be near me, and she is so good with our next little bundle of joy...

This is my Dexter.  Dexter is a Westie, and my favorite breed of dog.  Because I had uprooted from everything I was dropped rather quickly into another environment belonging to three male-men of varying ages, Chris thought I would do better with the transition if I had something of my own...So we had little Dex flown in from Missouri from http://www.perfectpuppies4you.com/   

I love my puppies.  They are a treasure.  They are naughty.  Dixie eats and chews everything, and Dexter is like Houdini in breaking out of places.  But I love them.  Recently we just about lost Dixie to some strange virus.  She is only just a year old and has been so healthy, but she became very ill.  The vet gave here medication, and after a few days she pulled through, but my husband and I both realized how much these little animals mean to us.  I have never had a dog of my own, and while Dexter is my own, I think he really belongs to Dixie.  She took over right from the moment we brought him home, and she loves him, mothers him, smothers him.  She taught him how to sit.  So now when I give out treats I say, "Sit" and they both sit, staring at me expectantly.  Dexter knows he belongs to me I think, but he loves Dixie, and when she goes away from him for long, he gets very upset.

It is fun to watch the exchange between these two animals  They are so fun and enrich our lives.  I can't imagine life without them!

L

Got Grace?

I have been pondering the word religion.  Religion is mostly associated with God, but I'm not a big fan of the association.  I grew up going to church.  Indeed, it felt to me that any time the church doors were open we were there.  That is not a bad thing, but I grew up thinking that people who did not go to church were heathens, and I believe there is a correlation between the two, because, believe it or not, not everyone who does not darken church doors is a heathen.

My experience with God was tied to rules for many years.  I did not begin to understand until much later that God's first design for my life was to understand that he loves me.  That was so hard for me to get, because I had painted a picture of him as this being with a rule book in one hand, a long wipe in the other, and a scowl on his face.  After years of mental illness, fighting a battle for my own mind and being told by individuals in churches that I was not welcome or that I was possessed, I walked away from the church structure.  I walked away from what I had always thought God to be and into an experience with grace so profound it would forever change my perception of God.

During one of the darkest and most insane times of my life God promised me I would have an encounter with grace, and it would leave me in possession of its relevance over religion.  Some time later I was standing on the edge of the continent watching the Arctic Ocean, angry and black as waves reached so high they seemed to touch the edge of the horizon as they rolled out.  The starkness of Barrow, Alaska, with the fall wind blowing in, and the grayness of the landscape gave me a sense of the awesomeness of nature and how very small and insignificant I was in it all.  And I was afraid.

It was then grace settled on me like a soft snow fall. I felt calmed and serene in the midst of the natural violence I was experiencing. I realized that no matter how bleak my storm, no matter how big or distant God seems to me, nothing can take me away from his grace, and that grace exists because of his love for me.  From that point forward, my ideas about who God was changed drastically.  He was no longer God to me but Abba, which is the Hebrew for father or daddy.    I finally understood that my role in the world was not to count how many times I entered the church doors, how many souls I managed to herd to heaven, or even how many of the rules I managed to keep.  My role in the world was very simple just as my walk with him was to be.  My role was to love others, while loving Abba with all my body, mind, soul, and spirit.  I was not to walk in fear or condemnation, which is so often the hinge for following rules and for pious religion.

I walk in hope, not by my sight or what others say is my walk.  I listen for Abba's leading in my life and I endeavor to follow.  I know I fail, but that is what grace for.  Now, please understand, I am not against church or going.  I believe in a place to worship Abba, but I am not tied to it any longer through guilt, obligation, and legalism.  I walk in freedom and the knowledge that my job is simple...I am to love my neighbor...And I am open to whatever it takes to accomplish that.  I figure it will take a lifetime and more to achieve that task.

Church has not saved me, because it cannot.  It is a structure filled with other human beings, and in mind, often focused on producing rather than loving.  Religion has not saved me, because it cannot.  It is a cage that can easily trap the weary soul looking for answers.  Grace saved me, because it can.  Grace is the extension of Abba's love that covers, comforts, endorses, and pardons.  Got grace?

L

The List Thing

One of the things I have noticed about turning 40 is that people take stock.  Then they make "to do" lists.  While I appreciate the concept, I confess I have never been a big resolution person.  Some people are good at such things, even center blogs around their lists.  But while I am a list person (going to Walmart without a list means becoming lost for hours in commercial hell, only to emerge several hours later with four carts of junk and a yak), I do not find it helpful to create life lists.  For one thing stuff happens.  Invariably, the moment I have myself psychologically primed to lose some weight, I am invited to a five star dinner with chocolate as the main course.

I have discovered over the years that I must look at change in my life with baby steps in mind and with a long term view.  Once I decided I wanted to begin losing weight I realized I had to make a life change that incorporated a new way of living, not an achievement I would cross off a list and move on.  So, over the past ten years I have lost 90 pounds.  It has been very slow, and there have been steps back, but I have learned about my body, mind, and how it all fits together in terms of being healthy.  I would have liked to have achieved my desired weight goal by 40 but that isn't happening.  Instead I gained (along with 5 pounds) a husband, two boys, two dogs, a house, and a new car.  So, I just remind myself that I'm a work in process and I move forward.

I'm a big fan of positive psychology.  I have done a lot of work with it over the years, and I have seen how taking a situation an reframing it by looking at it from a different angle helps make it more manageable and more positive.  I think that if one is bent on making lists there needs to be an element of the reframe involved, so that when that goal isn't achieved and nothing can be crossed off the list, there isn't a total derail.  Often what happens when a person makes a "to do" life list, they end up focusing so much on getting it done they forget why they are doing it in the first place.  The need to accomplish the list is often overshadowed by the failure to do so, and there is no connection to why it was being done in the first place. 

John C.  Maxwell wrote a book called "Failing Forward".  I have become a big fan of the ideology.  Life is not about not failing.  Everyone fails.  It's about knowing you will fail and choosing to fail forward so that failure creates successes.  When I fail, rather than look at it as my screwing things up again, I must look at the situation as part of a journey to becoming a better me.  Sounds like a pat answer I know, so here is an example:

I have decided I need to not be so direct when dealing with my husband.  I know that when I do I can say things that hurt his feelings, pinpoint assumptions that are inaccurate, and create issue that might simply dissipate if I were to keep my mouth shut instead.  I fail on this every day.  I continue to spew when I should contain.  That last sentence provides the logistics of my failure, but I have found something interesting through the process, a benefit to continually failing.  I am getting better at saying those three little works..."I am sorry."  I am learning to say them more quickly too.  I have, in the past, taken much time to work up to that short little sentence.  I am failing forward.  I am procuring something good from what seems like continual failure. 

Now don't get me wrong...I would love to not fail at anything...Seriously?  That's just not realistic, and the truth be known, I don't make lists because I can get hung up on one thing for quite some time.  I don't need the pressure of a list of things that herald my lack of accomplish and my continual failures to accommodate...failing forward or not. 

So, to kick off my forties, there will be no lists.  There will be life modifications that exist for the sole purpose of improving me as a human being.  There will be failures that cause me to move forward in all areas, because if I'm gonna fail, I'd rather it be forward.  There will be maintaining of that which benefits, an exit of that which does not benefit, and additions that edify.

Hmmm....Looks a bit like a list...
L

The New 20

If you have read my profile you have perceived this blog has changed from what it was.  I have a background in psychology and one in mental illness, though one is much more invasive than the other.  I write for a magazine called Everyday Health, and my focus there deals with mental health.  I work with families who have a loved one dealing with bipolar disorder, but I also teach basic mental health skills.  It is difficult to be healthy, mind and body, in an age where we are moving faster than our little legs can carry us.  So I help equip people...From those coping with mental illness and the crisis of mental illness to those just trying to navigate life in the healthiest way possible.  As a person who has lived with severe mental illness for the majority of her life, I know what it takes to get healthy mentally.  Now, however, after years of working to become healthy, I find myself in pretty good shape and in a whole new set of circumstances.  It is a new day for me.

I met my husband, Chris, when I was a child.  We were in kindergarten, first grade, and second grade.  We attended the same church, rode the same school bus, and later, graduated from the same high school.  We were never friends.  I remember him from that time, vaguely, and he remembers me, but we never ran in the same circles.  Our paths crossed continually.  We knew the same people, and yet, we never connected.

Fast forward through many years of mental illness and broken relationships for me, a marriage, divorce, and two children for him, and we arrive at two years ago (albeit through many big leaps).  Two years ago he found me on Facebook.  Good old Facebook.  He began to read the blogs I wrote for Everyday Health, and we become good friends through discussions about mental health, God, and life in general.  At the time he was in a relationship, and so was I, but over the next couple of years we were to see both those relationships dissolve, leaving us alone on the stage with our really great friendship.

We began to spend a bit more time chatting and texting, until one day we decided we wanted to make a bit more of a commitment.  We started video Skyping, and made an effort to actually spend time together in the same physical location.  He came to see me, and it was after that that we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.  From there things moved quickly.  Trips back and forth were expensive, and we were tired of being apart.  We decided we wanted to get married, so we set a date for late July, but in April, when I took a load of stuff down to drop off, we decided to just elope.  It was a logical or realistic solution to the expense an separation that had been too big a factor in our situation.

Now, I am a psychologist, so I am not one who does not consider ramifications of actions.  I knew the adjustment would be huge, but I also tend to act when I know what I want, as does Chris.  I figured we would just work through things one day at a time.  I knew the boys would have quite and adjustment, as would Chris.  I knew I would struggle, having left my home, way of life, and my cat (the new men in my life are allergic to cats).  I knew it would all be a major adjustment, but I had no idea just how much it would really impact me.

You see, I have been single my whole life...That's 40 years for anyone who may have missed the blog title.  I have had lots of relationships (most of them crap), and have been engaged several times.  But I have never been married.  I have done what I wanted, when I wanted to.  I have not worried about giving account of my spending habits, and I have not had to pick up so many pairs of socks and wet towels up from off the floor in my life!  I would love to say I am gracious and adaptable, but truthfully, I am not very flexible.  I am middle aged!

I say that more as a reminder to myself that I am the age I am than to anyone else.  I am just always amazed when I read my birth date on my driver's license.  And when I see people on the street I find I'm easily confused when I am asked to assess how old I think a particular person might be.  Actually, I'm nonplussed, because I really can't tell how old I look or feel most of the time, and I compare others' ages to my own.  When I lived in my hometown I would see women I went to high school with and ask my mom, "Do I really look as old as she does?"  My mom rarely commented...Why is that?

So how does one reconcile with where he or she is at in life?  It is not that I am discontented.  On the contrary...I am overwhelmed!  I have all these lovely things, things I always wanted (though my husband may not appreciate being called a thing), but they didn't quite show up the way I expected them to.

Ever see the move "Under the Tuscan Sun"?  Francis is a woman on the edge after buying a large house to fill with things like a wedding, a family, and babies, but finding she is alone in it instead.  At the end of the movie, through a series of events (of course), her friend points our to her that she got all the things she asked for...There is a wedding taking place in her house.  Her best friend is there with her baby, and there is a large mass of friends who have become Francis' family.  She acknowledges that she did get all she asked for.  It just didn't happen the way she expected.

For me, the story is poignant.  I expected to get married, but in my twenties, not at 40.  I expected to have children, but to give birth to them not have them inserted into my life at 11 and 17.  I expected to have an education, but to not be financially stagnant while finishing a doctorate...

So, I am revamping.  I am reassessing.  I am reviving.  Life never goes the way we plan does it?  For some that's a good thing, and for some it's not so good.  For some life tends to change because of the choices of others, and, frankly, it is bloody unfair.  I have things I would have preferred to be different.  But I do not have yesterday any longer.  It is over...done.  And though vestiges still sometimes cling to me in today, like yesterday's dust on today's mantle, I refuse to be stifled by what I missed, the time spent, and what didn't go right.  I wouldn't trade the option of having the rest of my life with my husband for any day in my twenties.  And quite honestly, I like myself much better at 40 than 20...and I think he would too.


So here is to revitalizing, reevaluating, and reinventing...The new 20 :)

L

Tags: marriage after 40 
         the new 20
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