Twice this week, I spoke with a friend who wanted my opinion on a marital issue. I’ve been told I’m good at that stuff: providing sage, honest, and tender relationship advice. I try to remind people that I’m single (as in not very successful in this domain) and maybe not as wise as they think.
This friend also wanted to know more about my trip. She says I’m living the life she wants to live. She said she imagines it’s a lot of fun but also might be better with a travel companion. She has a lot of thoughts on the type of person who would make a good companion for me.
I don’t know how to respond to these statements. Yes the journey is and has been fun… but also challenging. Living on the road takes some getting used to. I think a companion would have made it more fun, more interesting, and, at times, more challenging. I told my friend a companion can certainly enhance these things (I think one of my dating profiles says I’m looking for an adventure buddy) – but that’s not where I’m at in life and I don’t want to hold back and wait for someone to come along. Being able to travel well together seems like a good indicator on how two people might mesh. At this point in my life, I’ve done far more solo travel than I have couples travel.
That, the meshing, seems to be the issue in the marriage. Free spirit vs. reliable and predictable. Orderly vs. disorderly. His stuff and life and needs vs. her stuff and life and needs. In such circumstances (because it’s almost always about “this person doesn’t even get me”), I usually ask if the two can be complimentary instead of being oppositional. Are you seeking in this person something that balances you? If so, you can’t fault them for being different in those areas. If so, you have an opportunity to re-frame your thinking: you can say I chose this person because they bring a different dimension to me and to this relationship. That was something I learned in couples therapy – that the things that most attracted me to my partner were some of the very things that triggered, worried, or aggravated me. I think couples with a growth mindset understand and expect to challenge each other in good and healthy ways. They see most things, even the setbacks, as opportunities to understand each other better.
My friend and I had long conversations. She’s frustrated that she can’t talk to her husband as freely. I challenged her on the word can’t. She can, but it’ll take practice… and maybe he’s not the right person to provide those types of conversations. Maybe she needs to get her spiritual fix, her friendship fix, her advice fix from a friend, a yogi, a counselor. As someone who has relied heavily on my partners for my social and emotional needs, I’ve come to recognize that we are multifaceted beings who seem to function better with multiple inputs and outputs. Sourcing all of one’s needs from their partner is a lot of pressure. Of course we want our partners to be our best friends, our confidantes, our sources of inspiration, our got-my-backsters. Knowing each other’s capacities seems to be the type of wisdom and vernacular that successful couples build. They learn the delicate dance of turning inward, turning towards each other, and turning to the outside world at the appropriate times and in ways that don’t threaten the individual or the relationship. Vonnegut talked a little bit about this:
OK, now let’s have some fun. Let’s talk about sex. Let’s talk about women. Freud said he didn’t know what women wanted. I know what women want. They want a whole lot of people to talk to. What do they want to talk about? They want to talk about everything.
What do men want? They want a lot of pals, and they wish people wouldn’t get so mad at them.
Why are so many people getting divorced today? It’s because most of us don’t have extended families anymore. It used to be that when a man and a woman got married, the bride got a lot more people to talk to about everything. The groom got a lot more pals to tell dumb jokes to.
A few Americans, but very few, still have extended families. The Navahos. The Kennedys.
But most of us, if we get married nowadays, are just one more person for the other person. The groom gets one more pal, but it’s a woman. The woman gets one more person to talk to about everything, but it’s a man.
When a couple has an argument, they may think it’s about money or power or sex, or how to raise the kids, or whatever. What they’re really saying to each other, though, without realizing it, is this:
-Kurt Vonnegut
“You are not enough people!”
To my friend, I suggested that maybe, like most of us, she needs more people. I also reminded her that it’s often easier to talk more freely with strangers – because when you share something (a fear, a concern, a hope) with the person with whom you’re most intimate… you risk rejection or misunderstanding or ridicule and scoffing. Not only are the stakes higher, but we’re hyper-sensitive to how what we’re sharing is being received. At our worst, we’re testing each other and keeping score…. “that one time, when I said this, you rolled your eyes – that proves you don’t care about me or my needs.” But, with practice, I think two people can learn to trust each other, can learn to let go of the ledger, can learn to disarm themselves of the warheads stacked in the closets. They can learn to talk about things without getting defensive. It’s a lot easier to have difficult conversations if you know that you’ll both still be good and kind with and to each other afterwards. If you can say in the moment, this sucks, but I’m not going anywhere.
In the course of these conversations, my friend will often tell me that I seem to “get this stuff” more than most guys. If I do, it’s because it’s important to me. If I do, it’s because I’ve read about how to have healthy relationships, listened to podcasts on the subject, and tried to learn from the times when I wasn’t so good at it. She’ll tell me she doesn’t understand how I’m still single. Not that I need one, but I don’t have a particularly great explanation for that. I genuinely thought my engagement five years ago was going to be the one, and I haven’t tried very hard since then. It’s been a combination of not wanting to hurt someone (by not being ready), waiting for this person to come around (at least early on), and resignation/acceptance (maybe that was it). In an effort to reassure me, she’ll tell me that I’m super easy to talk to and get along with… but the thing is, I don’t really need that type of reassurance. I don’t lack confidence. I usually lack enthusiasm. Being easy to talk to is only part of the equation – and it feels like it’s the easy part. Chemistry is the part that’s either there or isn’t.
I don’t know if I was able to provide the good, sage, and kind advice she needed. In the end, I said the two of them first have to get back to basics and agree that this (their relationship) is where they want to put their efforts. If they can agree on that, then they have a direction and a commitment. If they can agree on that, the things that they fight over can become opportunities to learn about each other on deeper levels.
I’m a day-and-a-half away from ending this road trip. On Monday, I’ll drive from Monterey to San Francisco. While my focus will shift from exploring and experiencing to finding a place to live and getting a job, the relationship thing is there too. A big reason for moving was to put myself in a place where I would have more opportunities (for jobs, for inspiration, for a connection). My friend asked if I knew what I was looking for. It’s a tricky question. I know what those rare connections feel like when they happen. I think I know what it takes to sustain them. For me, I think the baseline is that magical start – the date you never want to end. Followed by more dates that you don’t want to end. Followed by an unending level of curiosity about and commitment to this other person that is strong enough to outlast the dumb things we tend to argue over. I think I’m looking for what I had before, but easier, softer. To quote a few lines from a poem I recently read, “The Year of No Grudges, or Instead of Writing a Furious Text, I Try a Poem” by Andrea Gibson:
“I know most people try hard / to do good and find out too late / they should have tried softer”
and…
“because where I come from / beauty is in the eye of anyone who sees / what’s missing but can’t stop pointing // to what’s still there. / If there’s no definition of love yet – / I think that’s a good one.”
and…
“…I love you / because we have both showed up // to kindness tryouts / with notes from the school nurse / that said we were too hurt to participate. // But we learned how wrong we were, / and weren’t those the best days? / The days we learned how wrong we were // and so got to grow / into our goodness, throwing / the peach pits of our old selves // into the garden to grow sweetness.”
I want to try softer. I want to see what’s missing and point to what’s still there. I want us to show up to kindness tryouts knowing that one or both of us might not always be able to participate. I want to learn how wrong we can be and still grow into the garden of our goodness and sweetness.