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Blender regulars will know that I'm about winding up a marriage. Mo and
I had been "shacked up" since early 1998, we got married in min-2001, and then
things fell apart last Autumn...went to divorce court this April, but the
thing won't be finalized 'til August 7. We did some couples therapy, but.
oddly, by the time Mo suggested doing that it was already moot; she had moved on,
though she hadn't admitted it. Still we went, and I also had a few follow-up
sessions more recently, on my own.
The therapist mentioned one author, Terrence Real. He's written two books, "I Don't Want to Talk About It: Overcoming the Secret Legacy of Male Depression" and "How Can I Get Through To You? Closing the Intimacy Gap Between Men and Women". I wasn't feeling particularly depressed, at least not more than circumstances warranted, and I really hoped to have a better understanding of what went on between me and Mo, so I chose the latter. And dang if this book didn't read like an autopsy report for our relationship. His basic idea is we're pretty unequipped for the roles we find ourselves; in our culture men are taught to disconnect from others, be independent. And women find themselves needing more from their partner, but they often won't ask for it because either they haven't clearly recognized the need in enough detail, or they don't want to sound like a nag. He describes a world where feminism has changed expectations for men and women--in a very positive way--but where the upbringing we get hasn't received the same kind of upgrade, so we end up lacking the necessary tools to make sense of it all. And just realizing that there's a problem is a problem, especially for men: For us, particularly for men, the first step lies in understanding that we need skills at all, that while falling in love is primarily about spontaneity, staying in love demands craftsmanship. And craftsmanship must be learned.that sums up one of the most fundamental problems. though there's a ton to be done even once you've reached that point. The one thing I'll always have a difficult time forgiving Mo for is her not bringing up the level of frustration she was feeling in a way that we could work with it. She thinks to some extent it didn't matter, either I wouldn't have had the power to make the kind of change she needed, or it would be too much to ask, or something; I'm more a believer in the ability to make positive change (especially when the stakes are so high) than she is. And I loved her enough to try almost anything. In any case, it's far too late now, it was already too late whe she finally brought herself to having "the conversation". Spilled water under the bridge. I don't know what the solution could have been. While she feels she tried to reach out to me in a lot of ways, I was never aware of how important the issues were to her, never reached back to actively work on sharing interests and more time. I even tried to set up a time and "safe space" for that kind of conversation, every year on our anniversary getting together and having a "State Of Our Union" talk. Well, we got to have one, and all I got was a then-reassuring, now-menacing "things are going pretty well" response. That was the way I tried to reach out to her; for future relationships, I know I have to reach harder. There's a great soundclip from the show "Farscape": "Look Aeryn, all men are stupid, OK? Men stupid! If you want them to know something you got to tell them." Take that to heart, ladies: talk to us. In English. There are some things more important than not sounding like a nag. And guys, don't just listen, proactively work to delve in what's there. Don't get paranoid, but dig. (There's some line from "Women Who Run With Wolves" about asking a woman what her inner wild woman wants, and then what it really wants.) I've learned a lot from this book. Unlike some guys, I have almost no sense of privacy; and for a long time I mistook that for having a well-developed sense of intimacy, and that's just not the case. I think I tended to clam up about some things, how I felt about Mo (I tend to see saying I Love You as kind of a manipulative thing; you show love by your actions, the words can be faked) and when things were bad at work (I didn't want to rub her face in the way how, other than being vaguely supportive, she was helpless to make that situation better.) Anyway, I guess I'm not doing this book justice, it's chock full of "case studies" where he gives the dialog that has gone on in his office as he counseled various couples; I could really relate to where a lot of them were at. Also, it's hard not to like a book that can come up with a passage like this: I object when people, especially therapists, talk about "resolving grief," as if grief could ever be so compliant. We humans don't "resolve" grief; we live with it. The pain of our losses recedes, over time, and we get on with our lives. But periodically one may well find the chill hand on the heart--what we miss, our mortality--its sudden grip like a sharp intake of breath. It is important for us to recall in such moments that we still remain. Grief washes over us and we are left standing. It's okay. Nothing's wrong. It's just a natural part of things. Dead leaves underfoot. A clear autumn evening, the black sky like a vault, the vapor of our own breath in the air, a surprise. "Oh," we say. "It will be winter again soon. It's grown dark so early." And we burrow deep into our clothes for a moment, glad to be heading home.I'd recommend this book to anybody in a relationship. (I guess it mostly applies to straight relationships; I think homosexual pairings (yay Massachusetts!) will have issues as well, some related to the upbringing stuff, some that straight people never have to wrestle with.) There's so much we can do better. I have to be optimistic that someday I'll find someone to give it another go with and maybe things can work out. |