Marital Debt Should Not Convey

I entered my current relationship with plenty of debt – both literal and figurative. When Brock and I first started dating, I was seriously limited by the financial repercussions of the divorce and was still hamstrung by the emotional fallout. It was impossible for those encumbrances to have no effect on my new relationship: I wasn’t able to contribute as much money towards dates and activities as I would have liked and I was still working through the impact of betrayal and abandonment.

Even though it impacted him, at no point did either one of us assign him the liability for the outstanding tab.

Because marital debt should not convey.

Of course, that’s easier said than done.

On the money front, it has been difficult at times when Brock and I have different financial standpoints. Until just two months ago, almost a fifth of every one of my paychecks went to my ex’s debt. And that was on top of everything I had already paid (literally a third of my pre-tax income in the last five years). I would get frustrated sometimes, not that Brock had more leeway with money, but that I was still so limited.

There were times those frustrations would come out, my anger towards my ex mixing with my irritation at not being able to afford something I needed with a dash of fear about my financial future. And he’s always been awesome – giving me money to buy clothes last winter, never making me feel guilty about not paying my full share on trips or dinners (or being able to cosign on the house) and always letting me know that he has my back.

But the reality is that the martial debt was mine to pay. My burden. My responsibility. And now, it’s my job to work to build up my savings and my credit.

Because marital debt should not convey.

In some ways, the financial debt is easier to work with. It’s clear what it is and where it comes from. Whereas the emotional encumbrance? Yeah, not so easy to catch.

I was really careful with one area of emotional debt. I knew I was sensitive to infidelity and lies. It would have been very easy for me to enter in to a new relationship and punish my new partner for the sins of the old – questioning every phone call, peeking at every text, growing suspicious at every night away for business. But all that is going to do is drive away the new partner. My sensitivities and insecurities were my problem to address. Not his.

Other debts were not so clear. I can easily (over)respond because some past situation is triggered. Don’t believe me? Read this. It’s embarrassing to me now after this has been the outcome. At times like those, I have a more difficult time not shifting the debt; I’m flooded and scared and the line between past and present sometimes becomes blurry.

And in those moments, Brock can definitely help. He helps me feel safe while also letting me know that I’m not being fair to him. He can help me heal but ultimately, the work is mine to do.

Because marital debt should not convey.

If you start a new relationship burdened by the debris of the old, you are weighing it down before it ever has a chance to grow. Instead of placing the weight of your former marriage on the shoulders of your new partner, do the work yourself of breaking through the burden until it no longer has to be shouldered by anyone.

Because marital debt should not convey.

Unless of course, you want a repeat of the end of the first marriage.

 

 

The Problem With Arousal

We tend to see arousal in a relationship as a positive attribute.

We correlate it with the abdominal butterflies of the early dates and the heady rush of the first kiss. We enjoy the tunnel vision of young love and the electric nerve endings primed with anticipation. Untold books are written about difficulties with a lack of arousal and how a deficit in excitement can lead to a marital dead bedroom when a partner fails to elicit a response in the other.

That’s a limited view of a complex biological mechanism.

Arousal is a physiological state where the autonomous nervous and endocrine systems are turned on and ready to go. The increased heart rate, blood pressure and alertness makes us ready to fight, flee or, in the case of a potential mate, maybe another “f” word. It’s an evolutionary response that downshifts our brains into basic survival mode, the instinct to protect self and offspring prevailing over all other thoughts.  The vision field literally narrows to limit distractions and focus attention on the task at hand. The body is primed to attack or run as blood flows into the limbs. In a true survival situation, a heightened state of arousal is key.

Most situations are not truly about survival. 

Several years ago, my now-husband and I were walking Tiger on a trail along the river. A car suddenly veered from the road onto the path, dramatically splintering a fence, before coming to a stop mere feet in front of us. I immediately felt my heart accelerate and my body begin to shake. I remember feeling a need to act, to move, yet feeling unsure what to do. I looked over at Brock and was surprised to see him calm and unmoving, visually assessing the situation and making an action plan. Unflustered, he handed me the leash and instructed me to move Tiger out of the way into an adjacent field.

Brock’s years of medic training had taught him how to mitigate his body’s arousal system. Whereas my brain was sent into the panic of high alert, he was able to maintain a lower level of arousal that still allowed him to think rationally, process stimuli and act logically.

Too much arousal is as detrimental to a relationship as too little.

Not every situation is as dramatic as a car crashing through a fence. In fact, sometimes it can be as subtle as a particular phrase or echo of a memory that awakens our survival-brain. Primed for fears of abandonment, whenever Brock used to express displeasure or disappointment with me, my body would respond with an all-out flood of neurotransmitters. Through that heightened lens, every word, every movement was a threat to my survival.

In that state, I could not respond rationally. I could not see the bigger picture. I could not problem solve or make connections. And I could not risk showing any vulnerabilities, as my brain was convinced that everything was a threat. Communication is impossible when one or both partners are flooded with emotion. And if one or both people continually respond in a heightened state? Every discussion becomes a battlefield.

Affection is a dangerous antidote to hyper-arousal.

Cesar Milan often works with dogs that are in the “red zone,” the canine equivalent of fight or flight. He cautions the owners from providing affection when their dog is in that heightened state because it is rewarding the animal for being in the red zone. Instead, he waits until the dogs are relaxed and only then does he try to train or reward them.

Humans are no different. As an introvert (shown to be more sensitive to stimuli) geared towards anxious, I am naturally prone to an excess of arousal. Throughout my first marriage, my then-husband used to respond to my alertness by soothing me, using affection and attention to lower my excitement levels. It worked in the moments, but it also did nothing to discourage those moments from reoccurring.

Your arousal levels are not fixed; you can train your body to respond differently.

Nowhere is the brain’s ability to regulate arousal more apparent than in sniper training. These men and women learn how to lower their heart and respiratory rates to extremely low levels, make complex calculations and perform detailed fine motor movements all while in potentially dangerous situations.

We can outsmart our reptilian brains through mindfulness and practice. We can use the power of our rational minds when we are not in the red zone to change how we respond when faced with a perceived threat. It takes persistence, practice and patience. But you can retrain your brain.

Learning to control your arousal state is critical to relationship success.

The Gottman Institute has studied arousal states in couples and has determined that a lower level of arousal during conflict is positively correlated with marital longevity and happiness.  It makes sense. Learning to take responsibility for your own actions and overreactions is a key in mature and balanced partnerships. When you hold your own fuse, you are able to limit the potential of a conversational conflagration.

In the bedroom, by all means turn it up. But in the rest of your marriage, you may be better served by turning it down.

 

 

At Some Point, It’s No Longer About the Nail

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In the beginning, I made it all about him.

What he did.

Why he did it.

How he did it.

Where he was.

Who he was.

 

It was an escape of a sort. A distraction. If I stayed focused on him, I didn’t have to think about me.

 

What I was going to do now that my life was washed away.

Why this happened to me.

How I was going to survive and rebuild.

Where I was going to live.

And who I was without him.

 

But at some point, I had to decide to make it all about me. To turn my energies towards what I could change rather than curse what I could not.

Because no matter how much attention I turned towards him, it wasn’t going to help me feel any better.

 

When you first step upon a nail, the sharp steel tearing through tender flesh, it is prudent to focus on the nail. First by removing the offending stake and then by examining it for any signs of rust or fragments left behind.

And then at some point, the nail no longer matters.

Only the wound is of consequence. And your attentions must turn to the ministrations of puncture care, ensuring that it heals fully without infection to poison the blood.

 

A difficult divorce is much the same. Once the distressing person has been removed, focus on them only leaves your wounds unattended.

Because at some point, the nail no longer matters.

Only you do.

 

Learn more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is Your Divorce Malignant? Here’s How to Survive

When I was going through my divorce, others often felt the need to tell me about their own divorces. I heard stories of couples signing the paperwork and then going to have coffee. Some spoke of marriages that quietly faded and negotiations that barely sullied the mediator’s desk. I encountered women at the gym who whispered over sweaty shoulders, “Just wait until you get his money; it’ll all be worth it then,” as though a divorce was some get-rich-quick scheme I entered willingly. And all of this was years before the advent of “conscious uncoupling;” I think if I had caught wind of that phrase, I would have run off to some desert island where there are no lawyers.

If you’re facing a malignant divorce, see my eleven tips to help you survive on The Good Men Project.

I Feel Scared

Until my divorce, I thought I had a plan for my life.

I thought I had a loving husband.

I thought I had a savings account.

I thought I knew my future.

And then, with one text, it was all gone.

And in some ways, it was the most freeing moment of my life.

Because I faced my greatest fear.

And survived.

 

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Not only is divorce itself scary, it has a way of triggering childhood fears as well. If you’re feeling anxious and scared after divorce, these posts are for you:

Are you having trouble sleeping? Are you easily triggered? Do you have flashbacks that immediately take you back? Then you will relate to the idea of PTSD after divorce.

 

If you have been betrayed, this piece will help you understand how your thinking changes. Once you see a zebra…

 

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Healing isn’t linear. Days and even months of okay can be followed by a no good, very bad, horrible day.

 

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Do you find that triggers seem to attack when you least expect? Are you tired of overreacting to situations?

 

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The best news? You can retrain your brain. Every bad moment is an opportunity to respond differently.

 

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Often we cannot face things until we feel safe. Ready, set, face.

 

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