Stuck In a Bad Marriage? These Are Your Three Choices

Posted on by stilllearning2b
bad marriage

I had someone come to me last week for advice. His relationship with a woman – a married woman – recently ended and he was reeling from the breakup and associated revelations.

“I don’t understand,” he wrote, “How can she tell me her marriage is so bad and then choose to stay in it?”

I groaned. I couldn’t help it. I have never heard from anyone who had a relationship with a married partner who was not told that the marriage was bad. In fact, I think that pronouncement is a prerequisite for infidelity.

And it drives me crazy.

First, I see this as an excuse. It’s a convenient way to lessen guilt and shift blame to the unsuspecting spouse. It’s basically saying, “I’m not cheating because I’m a bad person; I’m cheating because you’re a bad person.” By painting the marriage as bad, regardless of the veracity of the claim, the actions become justified.

I also read these statements as a cry of insecurity. In essence, “My husband/wife never appreciates me so I need you to fill in the void.” But when we seek validation outside of ourselves, it’s never enough.

The assertion of a bad marriage to an affair partner is also manipulative. It’s a sob story that can used to spur rescuing behavior. “I’ve tried so hard to be a good spouse but I’m a victim of my spouse’s actions.”

Ugh. Just no.

If you’re on the receiving end of these stories, listen between the claims. Watch actions, not words. Think about what this person has to gain by telling you about their bad marriage.

And realize that reality may be very different than the picture they are trying to paint. After all, most people that have affairs claim that they are happy in their marriages.

Yet they say otherwise.

Now of course, marriages can go bad. Some had signs of mold from their inception while others slowly rot over time. If you’re in a souring marriage, you have three choices:

Fix It

Not by changing your spouse. But by changing yourself and your reactions. Instead of blaming your responses on your partner’s actions, dig deeper to uncover why you are upset. What is being triggered? Address that.

How To Release Your Triggers

Accept It

Your spouse isn’t perfect. And neither are you. Marriages have seasons of growth and periods of drought. Are you looking to your spouse to fill a void within yourself? Are you expecting your marriage to magically heal your childhood wounds? Are you assuming that your partner should meet all of your needs?

Why I Don’t Want a Perfect Marriage

End It

And if the defects are fatal? End it. There’s no reason to keep a marriage on life support forever.

12 Things to Consider Before Ending Your Marriage

Choosing to stay in the marriage while complaining about it is a form of passive acceptance. Yet it’s an acceptance that will keep you (and your marriage) miserable.

7 Reasons People Withdraw in Relationships

It’s really that simple.

Three choices – fix it, accept it or end it.

Make one.

Don’t Feed the Outliers

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I taught a lesson about statistics towards the end of the year. It was one of those rare lessons in our curriculum where the material directly and easily relates to the real world.

I introduced the term “outlier” to the students and explained how data points far removed from the rest of the information can skew the results. As an example, I shared with them the startling (at least to me) figure I had read that morning – the average U.S. wedding now costs upwards of $28,000. Gulp.

We discussed selection bias; the survey was administered on wedding websites, already narrowing the selection pool to people more likely to invest in a pricey wedding. Then, we analyzed the impact of the Kim Kardashians of the wedding world, who reportedly spent 12 million on her last wedding.

The students immediately saw how those rare but insanely weddings not only inflate the national average, but also garner more attention and consideration than the more mundane affairs. The median wedding cost, which is far more resistant to outliers, is closer to $15,000. Still not cheap, but certainly much more attainable.

We naturally pay attention to outliers. The unusual captures our gaze out of a sea of familiar. The stand outs demand consideration in both awareness and response.

And by diverting our attention to the unusual rather than the ordinary, we may inadvertently be feeding the outliers.

Sometimes that extra attention is meritorious, nurturing rarity that excels in some way, much like the process of natural selection. If your partner rarely acknowledges your birthday in a way you prefer, by all means make a big deal out of the time when he/she got it right. By attending to these interactions, you may be able to increase their frequency, thus nudging the average towards the ideal.

But sometimes the outlying characteristics do not deserve the extra regard, and the wooing of them only serves to form a false perspective and a skewed response. If your partner is normally responsive and is overly dismissive one week, it may serve you better to be patient rather than to focus on the unusual behavior. Of course, some behavior is so outside the accepted spread, that it requires immediate reaction.

In a reductionistic stance, relationships can be distilled into a series of data points, comprised of interactions and responses. When considering your relationships, be careful not to put too much emphasis on the outliers. The patterns are much more important than the occasional point off the beaten path.

And if any of you ever plan a 12 million dollar wedding, please send an invite. I’d love to experience that outlier for one day! 🙂

10 Struggles Anybody Who Has Been Divorced Will Understand

Posted on by stilllearning2b
divorced

1) “Getting to Know You” Conversations Can Become Awkward

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“So, what brought you to Atlanta?”

I hate it when I get that question. Because the true answer is, “My ex-husband’s job.” But I don’t always want to go there, especially in a professional setting. So sometimes this perfectly innocuous question leads to conversational gymnastics to try to avoid the more salacious aspects of my life. And that’s not the only potentially tricky question. Once you’ve been married to somebody, your life stories intertwine and it can be difficult to tell yours without including unwanted information about your former spouse.

2) You Find Yourself Referencing Your “Other Life”

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Once the divorce is final and in the rear view mirror, it feels like it happened to somebody else. Like that chapter was a whole other life. Even though your friends and family may see a contiguous you, you know otherwise. There was the person before the divorce and the person after. Thus, the “other life.”

3) Some Things Are Still Under Your Former Married Name

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Changing your name is no easy feat. And after the emotional and financial upheaval of divorce? It’s almost an impossibility to gather enough energy to do it completely. I still have my old name on my car insurance (only because their demands mean I would have to visit the courthouse for additional documentation) and most of my classroom supplies are branded with the former moniker (When my students inquire about the name, I simply say, “She is a woman I used to know“). And, of course, I still receive credit card offers and advertisements under my old name. I guess they’re not aware she doesn’t exist anymore.

4) Your Blood Pressure Rises When You Have to Indicate “Marital Status” On Some Form

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This is the worst while you’re in the process of divorcing: Technically you’re married, but you certainly don’t feel it. You’re not quite divorced yet, and you silently wonder if checking that box will speed up the legal process. You’re not single, but you’re slowly learning to be on your own. Nor are you widowed, although you may wish your spouse was dead. Here’s the box I would like to have placed on intake forms.

5) Weddings Become Bittersweet Events

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The first wedding I attended was my cousin’s, two years after my divorce.  I sat in the pew, my then-boyfriend now-husband by my side, and I tried to hold back the tears. I was happy for her. Excited for this new chapter in her life. But I was also sad for me, remembering back to the day when I possessed that certainty and unbridled excitement for the future. And I was scared for her. I wanted her happiness to last, untouched by divorce. Weddings are beginnings. And after divorce, you become acutely aware that sometimes they lead to premature endings.

6) You Learn That Missing Someone and Hating Someone Are Not Mutually Exclusive

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Continue to read the rest.

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Why I Don’t Want a Perfect Marriage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I became a bit incredulous yesterday when a woman on Twitter proclaimed that her marriage was “perfect” once she found a compatible partner. You see, not only do I not believe in perfection (except in the obvious exception of the first sip of hot coffee on a cold morning), I don’t trust it.

Sometimes perfection is a cover.

In many ways, my first marriage was perfect: we rarely disagreed, we shared many views and ideas and we worked together seamlessly. But underneath that facade was a husband who was playing a role and a wife too afraid to turn on the stage lights.

Sometimes perfection is a phase.

In the early stages of a relationship, it is completely normal to place your partner on a pedestal and to casually whitewash over any red flags (or even areas of discord). It’s easy to be perfect when reality hasn’t had time to intrude upon fantasy.

Sometimes perfection is boring.

There’s a reason that artists add a jarring element to their work and writers give their protagonists a flaw. Perfection isn’t interesting. It doesn’t hold our attention or stimulate our thoughts. It demands nothing of us and offers little contrast to prompt gratitude and attention.

And sometimes perfection is protection.

It’s scary to truly accept your partner as an individual with his or her own views, perceptions and decisions. It’s terrifying to see that no marriage, no matter how seemingly perfect, is infallible. It’s much nicer to see your vessel as sink-proof rather than acknowledge the weakness inherent in its construction.

Perfection is illusion.

None of us are perfect in our own right. And when you join two together in a day-to-day venture with long-reaching goals? That imperfection can easily be amplified. Marriage is not a fairy tale. Happily ever after is not a conclusion; it is a choice.

Relationships are not easy.

But that doesn’t mean that they should be a source of constant struggle or endless fear.

There is a wide span between dysfunctional and perfect.

A world between bad and flawless.

Aim to be there.

Finding a compatible (and healthy) partner is important.

But that’s not the end game.

It’s just the beginning of a relationship that requires intention, attention and adaptation.

I don’t want a perfect marriage.

I want a marriage that encourages two imperfect people to become better.

I don’t want a husband that always agrees with me.

Sure, it’s nice to hear that you’re right. It’s validating to have somebody echo your perspectives and pat you on the back for your insight. But it’s also limiting. If you surround yourself with “yes men,” you will never have your assumptions challenged or be forced to confront your own incorrect beliefs and conclusions.

I want to be called out on my B.S. Not because it feels good, but because it forces me to face it. I want to have to defend my thoughts. Not because I always seek debate, but because it requires that I think about a topic rationally and thoroughly. I want to hear other perspectives. Not because I always agree, but because seeing all sides of a thing adds to understanding.

I want a husband that always believes in me.

Although I don’t want a husband that is a sycophantic parrot who agrees with my every utterance, I do want a spouse that believes in me. That sees my potential even when he disagrees with my approach. That trusts that my intentions are sound even when my tactics may be less than ideal. That sees past the noise of the moment and sees the person beneath.

I want a husband that believes in me even though I am far from perfect and that believes in our marriage even when that marriage requires work.

I don’t want a partner to complete me.

I am whole on my own, thank you very much. One of the ironies of a good relationship is that it starts when neither partner needs the other. I’ve lived the life where I experienced a constant fear of losing my spouse. And I don’t want to ever live that again.

I don’t want a person that molds to my every weakness, filling in the areas where I lack. I don’t want somebody that always takes over when I am lacking, shifting all of the burden onto his shoulders. I don’t want dependence. I want interdependence.

I want a partner that complements me.

I want a partner who shares a life vision and philosophy with me. Who has the same overall goals even when the approach may differ. I want my husband to model ways of improving my weaknesses and act as a cheerleader and coach to help me strengthen those areas. I want to do the same for my spouse, not enabling but encouraging.

I want a partner that does the jobs I don’t enjoy or that don’t match my skills. But I also want my partner to teach me how to do them. Even if I never excel, at least I know that I am capable.

I don’t want a relationship that always makes me feel comfortable.

It’s nice to be comfortable. There’s a reason most of us live in conditioned spaces furnished with upholstered pieces. It’s relaxing. But it’s also limiting. Because when you are too comfortable, you become afraid of change.

And change is inevitable.

Growth is optional.

Our adult relationships are often the place where we play out and hopefully resolve the wounds of our childhoods. Common themes of abandonment, codependency and addiction often follow us into our marriages, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths.

We don’t learn when we’re comfortable. But we also don’t learn when we’re panicked.

I want a relationship that makes me feel safe.

I want a relationship where I feel safe. Not just physically, but emotionally. Where I feel like I won’t be shunned for stating my feelings and I feel able to express my emotions. Where it is understood that a disagreement does not mark the end and that a different view does not represent a different intention.

I want a relationship that may not always be the upholstered chair but that is always a sanctuary to return to. Where I know I’m okay even though I may be a little uncomfortable.

I don’t want a partnership where I never have to compromise my choices.

It’s unrealistic to believe that two people can coexist without some compromise. Whether it be the color on the walls or the number of children, there will be times when one or both partners have to adjust their desires. When the good of the marriage is more important than the good of the individual.

I want a partnership where sometimes my spouse caves in to my desires. And when sometimes I have to subdue mine for his sake. Part of playing nicely is learning how to share.

I want a partnership where I never compromise my core self and values.

But I also want a partnership where I feel at peace and connected to myself. Where I hold true to my values and basic beliefs. Where I am not lost under the weight of the marriage, but serve as one of the foundations of it.

I don’t want a marriage that is perfect.

I don’t want a perfect marriage. A perfect marriage doesn’t have the ability to grow and change as life changes around it. It doesn’t serve to challenge its participants and teach them how to improve. A perfect marriage is a risky marriage; there is no practice in facing adversity from within. When a perfect marriage fails to be perfect, it fails.

I want a marriage that accepts imperfections and grows and adapts. And that encourages me to do the same.

I want a marriage that accepts me as I am. I want a marriage that challenges me. I want a marriage that is exciting and a little uncertain. I want a marriage that requires attention to grow. I want a marriage that looks different in ten years than it does today. I want a marriage that adapts and keeps me on my toes.

I want a marriage that is real.

And real is rarely perfect.

As for the woman on Twitter with the perfect marriage?

I ended the conversation by saying that I am happy for her.

And I am.

I just hope that she doesn’t get cut too deeply if that perfections shatters.

Three Lies We All Tell Ourselves

Posted on by stilllearning2b

“I Would Never Do That”

“If you were in a survival situation, you would not only eat meat, you would crave it,” declared my husband in a conversation about choices made in life-or-death circumstances.

Intellectually, I knew he was right. The body’s drive for survival easily overrides any normal aversion I have towards animal flesh. Yet even though I know my instincts would temper my usual loathing for meat, I still struggle with the idea of willingly eating something that I view with disgust. But of course, I’m trying to imagine survival when both my stomach and pantry are full.

Just because we have trouble imagining something, does not mean that it cannot happen.

From a safe distance, it’s easy to judge. To think in terms of absolutes, always and nevers. It’s easier to declare something is impossible than to take the uncomfortable mental road of contemplating precursors that may lead to you doing the seemingly impossible.

So what’s the problem with these black-and-white declarations?

When we think in terms of absolutes, we both judge others and leave ourselves vulnerable to sliding into bad decisions.

Consider the common proclamation of, “I could never cheat on my spouse.” It’s an easy statement to make and an agreeable position to believe in.

Yet in taking that headstrong stance, you inevitably judge others that commit adultery. You view them as somehow weak or lacking in character. You take the moral high ground and shove them into a cesspool occupied by those who fail to live up to your standards. Instead of listening to and learning from the mistakes that led to their downfall, you judge their choices while insisting that you could not make the same miscalculations regardless of the circumstances.

I am by no means defending those who have chosen to be unfaithful. I find the behavior reprehensible and unbelievably damaging to everybody in its path. Yet I also see it as part of human fallibility. Not inevitable, but not entirely avoidable on a societal level.

But even though I can’t imagine ever committing adultery, I will not claim that I could never do it. From my current perspective, it is as unfathomable to me as choosing to eat meat. Yet, I cannot claim that a change in situation would not lead to a change in perspective.

If I believed that I could never stray, I would be more likely to slide into infidelity, unaware and unwilling to recognize warning signs and precursors.

So rather than say that, “I would never,” I find it more honest to say, “I never want to” and then make sure that my choices align with that intention.

“I Can’t Help the Way I Feel”

I shake my head every time I read about the every-increasing trigger warnings added to college syllabi and work presentations. On the one hand, I do think it is considerate to prepare somebody ahead of time for something that they may find difficult (I’m thinking of NPR’s habit of a brief warning for parents before broadcasting a story with language or content that may be inappropriate for children). On the other hand, the expectation of trigger warnings sends the message to the triggered that the responsibility for their well-being and mental comfort lies with others.

And that’s where I disagree.

We all have a right to our emotional reactions. We have a right to feel the way we feel and to respond to external stimulus as we choose. But we don’t have a right to demand that other people act in a certain way in order to regulate our emotions.

That’s an inside job.

If somebody does or says something that upsets you, you ultimately have two choices: learn to adjust your response or decide to avoid the person.

And that’s not easy.

It’s something I face on an ongoing basis with my fear of abandonment. There are so many innocuous things that my husband can do or say that can trigger this fear in me. My first instinct is always to shift that responsibility on him, to request that he refrain from the words or actions that make me respond in this way. I want to declare that my reactions are a direct response to his actions and that my fear is an inevitable response.

But that’s not true and that’s not fair.

Because I can help the way I feel.

Not easily and not all at once.

But the only way that I’ll learn to temper my fear of abandonment is by addressing it, not by asking others to protect me from it.

“I’m Right; You’re Wrong”

“Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.” Stephen Covey

Most of us enter into discussions and encounters with the assumption that we are right and we require substantial evidence and persuasion in order to change our minds. We lead with the belief that our perspective is the correct one, our moral code is the superior one and our understanding is the penultimate one.

It’s a limiting view as confirmation bias simply feeds the perspective that we carry rather than challenging us to see something new.

When you enter a conversation with the conviction that you are right, your energy is expended on defending your position. Rather than listen, you grow defensive. Rather than question, you attack alternative viewpoints. Rather than engage in conversation, you end up participating in a debate, complete with scoring.

I know I have a tendency to feel threatened when my views are criticized. My inclination is to respond defensively, enumerating the reasons that my thoughts are right. I can easily interpret an attack on my beliefs as an attack on me.

And maybe you are right. But that doesn’t necessarily mean the other person is wrong. Perhaps they have a different perspective born of different experiences. Maybe they are just at a different point of understanding and they need more time to gain clarity.

And maybe you are wrong. And by allowing the acceptance of that, you can begin to see another perspective.

Because after all, we are all human. Imperfect and messy.

No matter what we tell ourselves.