My Divorce-Proof Marriage

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Me, trying to pretend I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a husband to sleep

I used to hate sharing a bed with anyone. The few unfortunate sleepovers and vacations I got stuck with strange bedfellows, I ended up with a sore back from trying to sleep as close to the edge as possible.

Then I got married, a choice that left me dependent on my husband for several crucial sleep needs: (1) a personal bed warmer; (2) a back support, especially during pregnancy, when the only way I could sleep was wedged between pillows and my husband; (3) a kind and groggy ear to pretend to listen to my middle-of-the-night ramblings or disturbing nightmares; (4) a monitor of the duration and intensity of my snoring, hitherto unknown before marriage; and (5) someone else for the baby to claw at when he woke at six in the morning.

I cannot sleep well without my husband. This is, of course, a pain when he goes on vacation for a whole week with his college buddies. But it’s the magnet that forces our marriage back together.

Consider: When I get angry at him for something that seems much more important and unfixable at 11:02 PM, and storm out of the bedroom, and declare, “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight!”, it’s only a matter of time before I remember that I can’t actually sleep on the couch tonight without my bed warmer, back support, listener, snore monitor, and baby scratch post. Then I am forced by sheer necessity to slink back to the comfy bed and admit my overreaction.

When another petty midnight argument goes down, and he grabs his pillow to go sleep on the couch, I can go a max of 30 minutes before conceding that I’m not good at the silent treatment between 10:30 PM-6 AM. I slump towards my couch-sleeping husband to make up. I need a warm bed.

When I huffily roll over to my side of the bed, daring to let the sun go down on my anger, I end up huffily rolling back over and begrudgingly admitting to my husband that okay, fine, I love him and can’t live (or sleep) without him and yeah, let’s not try to address outstanding marital issues at two in the morning any longer.

I never get any sleep when he’s away, but at least my marriage is divorce-proofed!

Happy Couples Don’t Give 110%

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No.

It’s one of the most important, life-giving words for marriage, I’m finding.

No, I can’t. No, I don’t want to. No, I don’t like that.

Whenever I wanted to say “no” to anyone, Paul’s words always popped into my mind: As much as it is possible with you, live at peace with everyone. For the past twenty-four years, I interpreted that as a challenge. I would pride myself on my flexibility, on my limitless tolerance, on my 110% giving. It was possible for me to give it all and then some.

When resentment and burn-out poked their heads up (and they did, often, and more often), I took that as a challenge too. I just needed a new perspective. I just needed an attitude adjustment. I just needed to root out whatever sin was causing me to resent the recipients of my love.

How low could I go? Watch me.

It was possible for me to live at peace with everyone, at all times, in all ways. I could be all things to all people. I could swallow my opinions and blur my boundaries and run into another person’s life and fix all their broken pieces for them.

It’s more blessed to give than to receive — but the longer I lived like this, the more the resentment and burn-out drained me. I never felt blessed. I felt used and used up. 

I was missing a key part of love that many Christians don’t recognize: As much as it is possible with you is not just a challenge. It’s an acknowledgement of reality: it’s not possible to live at peace with everyone. There are limits to who you are and what you can give. There are moments when you come to the end of yourself. You max out at 100%. That’s a fact.

I believe that resentment and burn-out are rarely signs that you need a new perspective, an attitude adjustment, or a quick pick-me-up. They are signs that you have reached your limit. They are reminders that you need to say no to whatever is draining you.

Christians are often idealists. I am, at least. I live in light of what I should be doing. But the reality is that I am a broken, finite human. There are things I ought to do but cannot do ever because of the limitations of being human, and there are things I ought to do but cannot do now because of the limitations of being an imperfect human. 

In an ideal world, all things being equal, I as a good Christian wifey should be happy and willing to have sex whenever my husband wants, listen to the intimate details of my husband’s latest Fortnite game, pick up that random thing at the store for him, and take on extra work to give him a break. But can I do that thing on this day, during this period of my life, without reaching the end of what I can give? No, not always, because all things are never equal at any given time.

Like all my other fellow female mortals, I get tired, sick, overwhelmed, scarred, pregnant, preoccupied, burnt out, and other negative adjectives because we are limited persons.

As much as it is possible with you, make your husband happy in the ways he wants. But sometimes it’s not possible. There needs to be space in the marriage for the wife to say no, I don’t want to or no, I can’t. Burn-out and resentment are signs that she’s reached her limit. She needs to say no for her own soul.

And she needs to say no for her marriage. 

We all subconsciously know we have limits. Unacknowledged limits have a way of expressing themselves in destructive ways — like failing to follow through on our yes because really, we wanted to say no. “Yes, of course!” my husband and I will tell each other (I sometimes with an added, “Ugh, do I have to?”) — and then, because we don’t want to, we never do what we agreed to do.

This causes far more harm than if we simply said “no” at the outset. Now we have depended on each other, and we didn’t hold up. We have trusted one another, and that trust is broken. We have relied on each other, and now we’re inconvenienced and scrambling to pick up the ball the other person dropped.

Over time, these little betrayals add up until we don’t feel like we can trust our spouse. My husband has a list of things I said yes to and never intended to get out of. We joke about them, as they’re small things — I promised to play Fornite with him, I said I’d read the book series he really got into, stuff like that, stuff that I thought was little but turned out to be a big deal to him.

We’re left wondering why on earth our spouse keeps falling through — does he not love me anymore? Is something wrong? Is he not telling me something?

And, of course, since we’re too “nice,” and “obligated” to keep saying “yes,” we respond to our spouse’s fears and confrontations with more false promises that we subconsciously don’t intend to keep: “Yeah, I know I should have done that. I’m sorry. I’ll do it after I finish this.”

It affects our own sense of self, too. We beat ourselves up because we don’t understand why we keep falling through on our yeses. We’re just so tired, and burnt out, and busy, and disinterested, and we don’t want to be. We want to do the things we said we’d do. We want to make our spouses happy. And then we can’t, and we wonder what on earth is wrong with us.

Because we’re so busy feeling guilty and resentful and burnt-out by saying yes to things we don’t want to do (whether we do them or not), we don’t have any energy or emotional space to do the things we can and want to do for our spouses, or to work on why we don’t want to or can’t do the things our spouses ask us to do.

A simple starting place for fixing this whole mess is to be honest with ourselves and our spouses: say no when we mean no and say yes when we mean yes. For some of us, this requires more introspection and self-awareness than we normally use, so familiar are we with tuning out our guilt, resentment, and burn-out.

I think a lot of us ignore our limits because acknowledging our limits creates conflict — within ourselves (“It’s just a little thing! I should do it! I’m a horrible person for not wanting to do this one little thing!”) and within our marriages (“He’s going to get mad at me for saying no. I don’t want to hurt his feelings!”).

We often try to head off those conflicts by holding out for our spouse to let us off the hook. I want my husband to notice that I said yes with a long sigh. I’m waiting for him to immediately retract his request: “Don’t worry about, honey! I can see you’re tired and burnt out.” I want him to sense when I’m hovering at zero so that I don’t have to risk disappointing him or hurting his feelings. I want him to mitigate my guilt and take responsibility for my burn-out.

It doesn’t work that way — and now I’ve said I’d do something I don’t want to do and I’m grumpy about my husband’s lack of mind-reading skills.

It’s a huge relief to both of us when I take responsibility for meeting my needs and let go of responsibility for his emotions. He is not responsible for knowing my feelings. I am. And I am not responsible for controlling his reactions. He is. My no may disappoint him, hurt him, or affect him negatively. I can’t change that, and I can’t ignore my limits either, as giving out of nothing means I end up giving him nothing and causing more hurt and resentment.

But saying no has some beautiful affects on marriage that I didn’t believe until I experienced them myself, again and again. As I’ve been listening to my limits and saying no, I’ve felt even more eager and energized to give of myself. A little but significant example: Ever since I’ve set limits on picking up after my husband, I’ve found myself happily clearing away all our plates after dinner just because I know it’ll make him feel good. Before, I would clear the plates to be nice, yes, but also subconsciously hoping he’d catch on to my niceness and reciprocate by picking up after himself since his love tank was now filled — or whatever.

Didn’t work. Result: more resentment.

Empowered to say no, I feel energized to say yes. Now that my no means no, my yes means yes. We trust each other more now that we know the other spouse feels the freedom to say yes or no and mean it. There’s less passive aggressiveness and resentment and fewer unspoken needs now that we encourage each other to take responsibility for our own energy levels instead of hoping the other spouse will notice we’re running on fumes.

The other day, my husband and I had planned to meet at the park after work to fish and spend time as a family. As I was leaving work, he texted me several times to ask if I could pick up some leaders (whatever those were). I checked in with myself. I instantly wanted to say “maybe” and then make up some excuse — sorry, not enough time, work went late — because I really didn’t want to and I didn’t want to him to feel bad.

If I said yes, I’d use up precious family time wandering through the fishing aisle in Meijer and driving an extra ten minutes. I’d feel stressed trying to figure out what leaders were and which ones my husband wanted. I’d feel resentful because of all of those things. I just wanted to get off work and spend time with my family. At the risk of inconveniencing and frustrating him, I texted back: “I don’t want to pick those up today. I’ll see you at the park soon!”

Turns out it was absolutely no big deal. He picked up leaders himself the next day, and we enjoyed a stress- and resentment-free time at the park. (Well, a relatively stress-free time — e.e. did puke all over himself and eat rocks, but, you know.)

It’s important in marriage to give what you can, for sure, even if it inconveniences you.

When it is in your power, don’t withhold good from the one to whom it belongs.

As much as it is possible with you, live at peace with everyone.

But sometimes it’s not in our power to give. Sometimes it’s simply not possible for us to make others happy in the way they want us to. We all have limits. When we acknowledge those limits, we regain the power and the possibility to love freely and sacrificially. 

How Do I Get My Husband to Do Housework?!?! (Part 3: Giving Back Responsibility)

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While being unable to change your husband through your attitude or great communication skills may sound bleak, this doesn’t mean you’re doomed to handle everything by yourself. You still have power and control over your own actions. You can control what you will do and what you will not do. You can decide what you will tolerate and what you won’t tolerate. That is, you can give your husband’s responsibilities back to him, and you can reset your boundaries so that your husband’s irresponsibility hurts you as little as possible.

We can give our husbands back full responsibility for their actions: the mental burden of remembering and thinking about those tasks, the emotional response when it isn’t completed, and the hassle and consequences of dealing with undone tasks.

A great place to start is the responsibility of picking up after oneself. Even the smallest of children are responsible for cleaning up after themselves. It’s absolutely unacceptable for any individual, especially an adult, to delegate this most basic responsibility to someone else. A grown man is responsible for throwing his trash in the garbage, putting his laundry in the laundry basket, cleaning up the messes he makes, placing his dishes in the dishwasher, and putting away the things he takes out.

If you’re doing any of those things, stop picking up after your husband. Release the full mental, emotional, and physical responsibility of picking up to him. Don’t give a flying flip to his mess. Turn a blind eye. It’s his responsibility. Let him be bothered by it if and when he’s bothered by it.

And that’s key: you’re releasing the responsibility to him not as a manipulative move to get him to change but as a gift to yourself. The difference between releasing full responsibility and trying to manipulate him into changing is noted in your emotional response. If you’ve truly released responsibility over his actions, you’ll see the clothes he threw next to the laundry basket, shrug, and step over them. If you’re trying to manipulate him into changing, you’ll see those clothes, get agitated, and scream a long list of grievances at him when he comes home that night.

It’s not that it’s wrong to feel frustrated, embarrassed, maybe even a bit disdainful when you see your husband’s chronic irresponsibility. Feelings are feelings. But it’s a fine line between feeling and expressing legitimate feelings because that’s your emotional response, and feeling and expressing legitimate feelings because you still feel responsible for getting your husband to change.

For some women, it’s difficult to step over piles of laundry or see stacks of unwashed dishes. Those messes affect their emotional balance, or make taking care of their own tasks difficult. In these cases, not picking up after their husbands still leaves wives inconvenienced and suffering the consequences of their husbands’ irresponsibility.

Here’s where you get creative and come up with ways to disentangle yourself from the consequences and inconveniences of your husband’s bad choices. If he leaves trash, dirty dishes, or belongings strewn out in shared spaces and isn’t bothered by them, put them in a place where they will not bother you but will only bother him — his desk, his side of the bed, his lounge chair. If it’s really bad, you might move your belongings to the guest room so that you each have a space of your own to keep or not keep at your choosing without inconveniencing the other person.

This concept of disentangling yourself from your husband’s rightful consequences applies to things other than picking up after oneself. If you’re sick of scheduling your husband’s appointments, reminding him about them, and rescheduling them when he misses them, stop. If he doesn’t care enough about his health, his teeth, or his haircut, that’s sad and unfortunate, but it’s not your job to care for him. If he misses an important meeting because he failed to write it down, keep a planner, or check the planner regularly, that’s frustrating, but it’s his responsibility to face the consequences — whether it’s rescheduling, angering a friend, or missing out on an opportunity.

Does this sound cruel? It can look like cruelty if we’re used to believing the lie that a good wife will bend over backwards to take care of her husband. Our culture promotes the idea that men are helpless; that marriage is designed to make them better; and that good wives exist to do all the things those silly, dear men just plumb forget about.

This is ridiculous. Grown men are capable of doing everything their wives do for them. They may choose not to do everything their wives do for them, but that should be on them.

And on the receiving end, yeah, it certainly doesn’t feel great. But as a Formerly Horrible Homemaker, I can assure you that I only changed into a Fairly Decent Homemaker because my husband stopped picking up after me, and I was the only one living with the consequences of my mess.

Words, emotions, even guilt — none of those things changed my mind the way dealing with the consequences of my undisciplined life did.

Just as I took twenty-four years to feel the effects of my lack of discipline, our husbands have their own journey in becoming aware of their problem, feeling motivated to change, discovering the root of their issues, and finding the tools needed for their transformation. You can’t do any of that for him, and you’re not supposed to. 

We have to let our husbands make mistakes and feel the consequences of their irresponsibility. We have to let them make the journey toward responsibility in their own way and their own time. We can offer insight and support, but trying to change them will only cause us frustration and stall our husbands’ journeys. We also must relinquish the guarantee that our husbands will make the changes needed to be equal partners in household matters. Maybe they will never change. That’s heartbreaking, but it’s 100% their responsibility — which means you don’t have to feel responsible for it.

Obviously, the nature of marriage and living together means that wives will still be affected. Some irresponsibilities are so severe that a wife cannot disentangle herself from the consequences of her husband’s choices without separation. But I’m finding that in my particular circumstances, with a husband who cares about equality and my happiness, just freeing myself from the lies that drive me nuts, figuring out the real reasons why he doesn’t follow through, and giving back his responsibilities to him alone makes a huge difference in our marriage — and the household.

How Do I Get My Husband to Do Housework?!?! (Part 2: Why He’s Not Following Through)

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What with gender roles, enabling parents, uncommunicated expectations, and personal problems, sometimes your husband just doesn’t know what to do or how to do it. And wives aren’t immune to the same flakiness when it comes to certain tasks too.

There’s a lot to hash out when it comes to household responsibilities. These are the conversations I’ve found productive.

Decide what tasks need to be done, when they need to be done, how they need to be done, and who needs to do them. 

There’s often a big disconnect between husbands and wives about what even needs to be done, much less when and how. Your childhood households place emphases on different things. Different levels of tolerance for mess lead to one spouse pulling her hair, while the other doesn’t even notice a problem.

Upbringing makes a huge difference, too. Adults with enabling parents may not know even the first thing about what’s involved in running a home. Spouses who come from homes with gendered roles may be unaware of what’s involved in a “man’s job” or a “woman’s job.”

I used to scoff at the idea of homemaking being a full-time job. Scrub a couple of toilets, wash the dishes, throw in a load of laundry. No big deal. Once I became the full-time homemaker, however, I quickly sang a different tune. It’s not just household tasks. Scheduling appointments, staying on top of communications, finances, planning, organizing, shopping, researching, and learning new skills, as well as keeping up with regular chores, all involved more steps and time than I thought. Just when I thought I’d finally got on top of everything, another bill would come in, something would break, and the realization that I really needed to declutter the hall closet would come crashing down.

Just the mental load alone was enough to drive me batty.

All that to say, if your husband isn’t aware of what needs to be done, he won’t know to do it.

When and how those tasks should be done is another important conversation that involves laying out preferences. In any relationship, somebody is bound to be more bothered than the other about different sorts of things. After I yelled at my husband for being a slob, my visiting sister commented that my personal tolerance for mess would make me difficult to live with. Ouch. Were I living with my sister, would be the slob taking advantage of her neat ways.

It’s all about perspective and preference. There’s nothing intrinsically “worse” about leaving a full bag of recycling by the door for a couple of days if it’s not bothering anybody, and there’s nothing intrinsically “better” about taking out the recycling right away. You could make great arguments for and against those practices. Our differing preferences for what constitutes “clean,” “organized,” and “livable” are not necessarily better or worse than our husbands’.

We have to come up with timelines and standards that work for both spouses. This may involve letting go of some preferences, or agreeing to preferences you don’t really care about.

This solves the exhausting conversation we’ve all had: “I thought we agreed it was your job to take those boxes to storage!”

“I know! I’ll take them out eventually.”

“It’s been two weeks. Gosh, you are so lazy. I’ll just take them out myself.”

It’s not necessarily true that the offender is lazy or will never follow through on his promise — not anymore than we are, with all the things we procrastinate on. It could really be that he’s not bothered by the boxes as much as you are or is prioritizing other things.

If it matters to us when and how tasks get done, we need to communicate those preferences and agree on them. Otherwise, we need to give the other spouse space to take care of his responsibilities in the way and time he chooses — or do it ourselves without complaint.

The final component of this conversation is who does what. Permanent task delegation — transferring the mental and practical burden of doing certain tasks — has made a huge difference. I know exactly what I’m supposed to do, what he’s supposed to do, and what responsibilities we must hash out along the way.

This saves us from vague arguments over feeling like we do everything, as we can pinpoint exactly which task is causing problems, and we don’t exert any emotion or responsibility toward the things the other is supposed to do. If we want help with our task, the other spouse is usually willing to contribute, but the responsibility to delegate specific tasks within that area lies squarely with the person to whom that area belongs.

These sorts of conversations are especially key for stay-at-home moms married to working husbands. Since we’ve been dealing with the home and kids all day, we intimately know the routines, the needs, the finished tasks, and the priorities of the household. When our husbands walk through the door, they may feel out of their depth and uncertain where to begin, just as we would if we walked into their workplaces and were expected to know what, when, and how to do things. Since they haven’t been stepping over the pile of dirty laundry all day, it will likely not occur to them to notice, much less make it an urgent priority.

Even if you’re not a stay-at-home mom, it’s important to make our homes a truly egalitarian environment where you welcome your husband’s preferences as well as his participation. Sometimes I see wives complaining about their husbands’ lack of involvement while making it clear that they view their home as the woman’s domain — insisting on certain decorating styles, criticizing how husbands do things, keeping the home off limits to the husband’s projects, or relegating his “own” space to a den or garage.

If our husbands have no say in how the home looks, operates, or is used, they’re not going to take responsibility. Our husbands can’t feel a sense of ownership if we expect them to do everything we find important on the timetable we find important in the way we think is best, with no room at the table for their preferences. Micromanagement discourages responsibility. 

We all naturally fail to notice or ignore tasks that aren’t our responsibility. Deciding who does what and making space for both of your preferences for when and how those tasks are accomplished eliminates this problem.

Put yourself under the mental load of the other person.

The first breakthrough in my marriage surrounding household tasks was the concept of “the mental load.” The mental load is all the emotion, mental effort, and ultimate responsibility it takes to manage things. It’s not a big deal to physically get in the car, drive to Meijer, and buy things off a shopping list. But making the shopping list? That involves knowing what we have and don’t have; deciding what we want to eat; figuring out the ingredients necessary for those recipes; factoring in diet, nutrition, and picky eaters; perhaps planning around the sales at different stores; writing it all down; and choosing when, where, and who’s going shopping. That’s the mental load.

This is what’s so aggravating when husbands say, “Just tell me what to do! I want to help.” When wives are burnt out, they don’t need help with the physical tasks. They need someone to shoulder the mental load — which is why I think it’s so important to divide up specific tasks and their mental loads between each spouse.

Usually, the mental load of everything falls to the woman, and it’s hard for husbands to even understand what their wives are talking about because they’ve never encountered the pressures and expectations society puts on women.

I explained this concept to my husband multiple times, and it didn’t seem to stick. He still failed to contribute to the household in the ways we agreed, or understand how much his failure stressed me out. I chalked this up to laziness and lack of care for me.

One day, he complained about the mental load he was bearing alone. I almost laughed in his face, but asked him to explain what he meant. He listed a whole bunch of things — mostly related to finances, like investments, savings, planning for large purchases, insurance — for which he alone shouldered the mental burden. He reminded me of the many times he’d asked me to look up something in order to help him make a big decision, and I’d failed to do the research I’d agree to do, or contribute in a meaningful way. He felt overwhelmed, alone, and frustrated with my flakiness.

Finding myself in his shoes as the “lazy, uncaring” spouse, I realized our promises to take responsibility for a task often failed because of the learning curve the task required. We meant well, and we agreed that it was fair to split responsibilities, but the mental load was too overwhelming. It was far easier to face a spouse’s wrath than put in the effort to learn, especially if we knew the other person would cave and do it for us. After all, we didn’t really care about the task in the first place.

When I saw my own tendency to shirk responsibilities with which I was unfamiliar, I gave him the same grace and understanding I wanted him to show me.

It might not be the learning curve that’s holding your husband back from taking responsibility. Maybe it’s perfectionism, depression, discouragement, other marriage or personal issues, or just confusion about what’s involved in the task he agreed to. Continuing to harp on him for failing to follow through without talking about the underlying reasons will be unproductive and frustrating for both of you.

I also realized that communicating preferences, understanding where the other spouse was coming from, and agreeing on a task list would not magically get us to follow through on what we said we would do. It was a necessary start, but the real change came when we put the tasks back on the responsible party.

Check back tomorrow for the last installment of this series!

Meaningless Marriage Advice: “Put God First”

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At every wedding, I hear marriage advice that sounds Christian-y and spiritualish, but makes no intelligible, practical sense.

The advice I hear most often, taking up space somewhere in every Christian wedding ceremony, is this: “Put God first in your marriage.” That, we’re told, is the secret to a lasting, happy marriage.

What the heck does this even mean?

“Putting God first in your marriage” implies a dichotomy, even a competition, between loving God and loving your spouse. Does “putting God first” mean talking to God before talking to your spouse when you start or end the day? Does it mean spending more time with God than with your spouse? Does it mean heeding God’s call to ministry at the expense of your marriage? In what practical way should you “put God first” ahead of your spouse?

Oddly enough, marriage sermons never give specifics on what “putting God first” looks like, other than vaguely “prioritizing” your relationship with God. But it’s one thing to say that your relationship with God impacts your marriage; it’s another thing to imply a conflict between your marriage and your spiritual life. It’s one thing to say that your relationship with God is important; it’s another to say that your relationship with God is the key to a happy, lasting marriage.

I understand the concept of how a strong relationship with God can and does affect your interactions with your spouse. If you find peace, strength, grace, and joy in your relationship with God, you can be peaceful, strong, gracious, and joyful in your relationship with your spouse.

But that is an if. Sometimes the transference of of peace, strength, grace, and joy drawn from your relationship with God runs into a hiccup when applied to marriage with another frustrating human being. Strong Christians still have marital struggles, whether self- or spousal-afflicted. Strong Christians still get divorced or live unhappily together. Some strong Christians are utterly nasty, unloving people, or good people with toxic or dysfunctional relational skills. Prayer, Scriptural study, knowledge of doctrine, good character, and a strong relationship with Jesus don’t always give you a leg up in figuring out sexual dysfunction or communication differences or how to split the chores equally.

Even Christians with an admirable spiritual life have blind spots, wounds, and faulty ideologies that can make marriage difficult. And non-Christians have happy marriages without any relationship with the Christian God whatsoever.

It’s objectively not true that simply having a productive relationship with God guarantees a happy, lasting marriage. It’s objectively not true that you cannot have a happy, lasting marriage without a productive relationship with God. When Dr. John Gottman created scientific studies on happy couples, “putting God first” was not a universal factor among them.

My guess is that the advice of “putting God first” as an almost silver bullet to marriage stems from a simplistic view of spirituality and human need. As I already said above, devotion to God, whether in the form of spiritual disciplines or an emotional connection, can do wonders in transforming the self into a spouse more suited to love and more enduring in inevitable marriage problems.

But just as the Bible does not and cannot give the specific medical advice needed to cure cancer, just as a relationship with God doesn’t guarantee prosperity, just as adherence to Christian principles and spiritual practices doesn’t stave off starvation, “putting God first” (whatever that means to you) does not, cannot, and will not solve marital problems alone. Spirituality may not even be a major component of either the problem or the solution.

There are relational and pyschological wounds that require more technical and marriage-specific help than “putting God first” requires. Acknowledging this doesn’t deny the importance of spirituality or a relationship with God, but it puts more emphasis on identifying the actual issues causing problems in the marriage and thus the solutions to them. Plus, it acknowledges the obnoxious but unavoidable reality that often the faithful suffer and the unfaithful prosper, and that the faithful are imperfect and broken too.

Unless a wedding sermon defines and qualifies “putting God first” with the above conditions, I consider this pithy little phrase just another well-meaning but meaningless bit of marriage advice.

Setting Boundaries with Children

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“Do no harm, take no sh*t.” — my new parenting philosophy, via Kay Bruner

I get stressed over hearing my baby cry or seeing a student upset after I enforce a limit. Am I being cruel and unresponsive, I fret, or am I being the calm, confident leader children need to feel secure?

One way I’ve been processing that question is by thinking in terms of boundaries. In an interview on Parenting Forward with Cindy Wang Brandt, Kay Bruner describes boundaries as “what’s me and what’s not me.”

I personally struggle with taking responsibility for children’s emotions. If my baby cries, I feel guilty. I feel like a failure. I feel like I need to stop his crying since, somehow, I caused the crying. I feel like I need to make the crying stop at any cost, including my sanity. Parenting success means my baby is tear-free as much as possible.

This is an impossible parenting goal. It’s impossible precisely because I am not responsible for my baby’s emotions. 

It’s important that we meet our children’s needs and hear their desires. Not hearing desires or not meeting needs disrespects children. But meeting every desire leads to child-centric homes and frazzled parents. In order to avoid any of those parenting pitfalls, we must distinguish between needs and desires, and even further, identify their specific need.

Take the age-old situation of moms being unable to use the bathroom alone.

When your two-year-old is pounding on the bathroom door screaming for you to let her in, you might determine that her real need has nothing to do with you in the first place; she may be hungry, tired, bored, or upset from you telling her she couldn’t eat pennies.

But maybe she really does need time with Mommy. Nevertheless, her legitimate need for quality time with Mom does not mean you need to fulfill her desire to be with Mom right then in the bathroom in violation of your legitimate desire for privacy.

In this situation, nobody’s desire is “wrong.” It’s okay for you to want to go to the bathroom by yourself. It’s okay for her to want to be in the bathroom with you right then. It’s okay for her to express extreme frustration that she’s not getting what she wants. It’s okay for you to feel annoyed at her for feeling that way.

“What’s me”: holding the limit of using the bathroom by yourself, expressing your emotions in a healthy way, acknowledging and legitimizing her needs and desires, and meeting the correctly identified need once you’re done in the restroom.

“What’s not me”: preventing her from feeling upset, preventing her from expressing that upset, or being responsible for stopping her emotions.

“I’m not letting you come into the bathroom with me. I want privacy,” you tell her through the locked door. “I hear that that makes you upset. It makes you feel like crying and yelling. It’s okay to feel upset. I will come be with you when I am done using the bathroom.”

Maybe she stops crying and tearfully says, “Okay.” Great! Maybe you find her sitting quietly outside the door waiting for you. Awesome.

Or maybe she continues to scream. Maybe she even starts kicking the door in response to your calmly set limit. That’s okay too. All outcomes are parenting successes, because you set the boundary and held to it. You did what you were supposed to do. You were never responsible for making her emotions stop in the first place. 

Janet Lansbury reiterates that our responsibility is usually just listening, accepting, and acknowledging our children’s emotions without fixing them:

Instead of feeling responsible for preventing or fixing crying, we first accept it so that we can understand and accurately address what is being communicated.

Instead of perceiving feelings as a call to action, we work on staying calm and listening so our child can share and feel truly heard. …

Instead of acting out of fear, we lead with trust in our child’s basic competency.

This is why it’s important to set boundaries with our children: without boundaries, we disrespect their basic competency to navigate respectful relationships.

Without boundaries, we model an anxious, exhausting, unsustainable relationship.

Without boundaries, we teach them that it’s other people’s job to prevent their emotions and solve their problems, a textbook lesson in co-dependency.

Without boundaries, we imply that having emotions is undesirable, that a good life involves no tears, no inconveniences, and no disappointments.

It’s not about being a “tough” parent. It’s not even about putting on your own proverbial oxygen mask in order to help your child strap on his. It’s about supporting your child through the hard and necessary process of developing healthy relationships with others and with his own emotions.

In order to teach him respect for others, he needs to respect your needs and desires. In order to teach him respect for himself, he needs to see you respecting your needs and desires.

Of course, relationships are give and take, even parent/child relationships. Sometimes you say, “I’m not reading the Peppa Pig book again tonight because if I read it one more time, I will literally go insane.” And sometimes you read that Peppa Pig book again even though you will literally go insane.

Obviously, children require our support, especially the younger they are. They are more immature and less self-regulated, easily overwhelmed by their needs, desires, and the emotions accompanying them. If we ignore their bids for attention and support, we cripple them emotionally. But children are not helpless, and they rarely need our help in the form of fixing or eliminating their problems.

Yesterday, a student was building a spinner exclusively out of black Brain Flakes. He needed just a few more to complete his spinner, but another friend had the last three black Brain Flakes. She declined to part with them.

“Ugh, I want the black ones!” he cried.

“You could use different colors,” another friend suggested.

“No, I wanted it all black!” He looked to me, hoping I’d use my Magical Teacher Powers to force his friend into sharing the black ones.

I really wanted to. I knew how frustrating and disappointing it was to spend so much time creating something only to have it fall through. I could easily demand that his friend hand over the pieces, getting rid of the problem and his negative emotions in one fell swoop. It might spare me the annoyance of defusing a tantrum, too. But it’s important to me that children share willingly (another type of boundary) and that students not use my authority to coerce their friends into giving them what they want.

Trying to support him through this problem, I said, “That’s too bad that she won’t share with you. You could either use different colors like your friend suggested, or if you want your spinner to be all one color, you could start over with a new color.”

He sighed, visibly upset. Then he perked up and said, “I’m going to make an orange spinner!”

And he did.

Spanking Didn’t Traumatize Me, and I Still Won’t Do It

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I’m just going to say it: spanking goes against everything I believe as a parent, educator, and human being. Even as a kid, I felt in my gut that spanking is unethical, harmful, and a violation of children’s rights.

Oh, great. One of those special snowflakes claiming that spanking traumatizes children. Look, what’s wrong with kids today is that they need a good whipping. None of this time out, trying to reason with them stuff. You can’t reason with kids. The only thing they listen to is a swat on the hiney. My parents spanked me when I was growing up, I spanked my kids, and you know what? None of us were traumatized. In fact, we all grew up to be respectful, well-behaved people. I’m glad I was spanked.  

This is many people’s experience: spanking is either neutral or positive. It didn’t harm them, it didn’t harm their kids, and they credit spanking with their development as decent human beings. Even though the American Psychological Association claims there’s a strong case against any benefits to spanking, these pro-spanking anecdata are compelling enough for many spanked children to grow up and spank their own kids.

And I’ll be frank: I don’t consider myself traumatized from spanking. I view it as unnecessary, ineffective, and deeply hurtful, but not traumatic. I don’t credit spanking with making me who I am today, but I don’t credit spanking for making my adult life problematic.

The thing is, spanking doesn’t need to be traumatic in order for it to be wrong.

The idea of purposefully hitting a child with a hand or an object, the idea of intentionally causing pain, goes against my ethical beliefs. “Do no harm” is a mantra of mine that of course extends to the vulnerable children under my care. Yes, (emotional) pain happens during discipline of any sort, but I believe it is never appropriate to intentionally cause pain, whether emotional or physical, or to leverage pain as punishment.

It’s such a slippery slope. When does spanking become hitting, beating, violence, or abuse? When it leaves a mark? What if you meant well and it leaves a mark accidentally? When it causes too much pain? Why is too much pain bad if pain is the thing that turns your child into a good human? And how do you determine too much pain? When your child cries or begs you to stop? Isn’t the whole point to cause them enough pain to get a strong emotional response so that they never do wrong again?

Spanking advocates often point to the emotional state of the parent as the thing that draws the fine line between appropriate and inappropriate corporal punishment. Never spank in anger is the rule.

Personally, I find it downright chilling that any loving parent could calmly and quietly spank their children, especially if the child is crying out in pain. I find it less disturbing that a parent would strike their child out of anger and frustration, then realize with horror what they did. Instead, with this model, parents make a calculated decision to inflict physical pain upon their children, with no remorse whatsoever.

This isn’t to say that there aren’t loving parents spanking their children. Of course there are. The overwhelming majority of parents spanking their children do so out love and fear for their child’s future, not because they enjoy seeing their child suffer. But that makes it all the worse: their love and empathy, their strong parental instinct to protect their child from harm, gets turned off and replaced with a conviction that physically harming their child is the most loving thing to do. This is one instance where that niggling mom guilt is right on the money.

On a personal note, I am not perfect enough as a mother to have spanking in my discipline arsenal without risking a harmful outburst. I am not always patient, kind, or self-controlled. This is why I cannot have corporal punishment of any kind as an option, even as a last resort. I can’t risk spanking my child in anger, accidentally hitting too hard, or unknowingly harming the innocent party if I misinterpret a negative interaction. Instead of allowing myself the possibility of spanking, I actively work on safer, gentler approaches.

Lauding physical harm as an ethical method of discipline is an anachronism in today’s world. We decry excessive police violence. We are appalled at anyone in a position of authority using their position to physically correct a subordinate. We expect children not to hit their siblings and friends. We don’t beat even convicted criminals.

Yet it’s tolerated and encouraged for parents to hit, thrash, beat, whoop, smack, pinch, whack, swat, or slap their children, their babies, the smallest, most defenseless, most powerless people.

Even if the line between spanking and abuse weren’t so thin, even if the danger of physically or emotionally bruising children weren’t so present, I still wouldn’t spank my children.

There’s another way.

It irks me, actually, when parents say things like, “Spanking is the only way to get them to listen.”

As a teacher, I can’t tap into the instantaneous submission that spanking brings. I must work to gain respect and authority through other, gentler means. It’s tough, but it works.

And I didn’t work with angels all the time. I worked with difficult children. You bet I sometimes stood shaking in frustration, thanking God through gritted teeth that spanking wasn’t allowed or else that kid would be hurting right now. I am not an angel myself.

But if teachers can keep a large class of students in some semblance of order without spanking, parents can handle their handful of children too without resorting to physical harm.

If spanking really were the only way to get to the hardest, most defiant kid to listen, I can understand the parenting philosophy of using spanking as a last resort punishment. But I know from experience that spanking is not the only way, and that it is the very opposite of more effective ways of disciplining.

And if there’s another way, why wouldn’t I choose an option that didn’t involve physically harming my children — even if spanking didn’t cause trauma?

A Definition of Egalitarian Parenting

In interpreting Ephesians 5:21-6:9, egalitarians argue that the gospel erases hierarchical lines between Jew and Gentile, slave and free, male and female. All are equal before Christ. All mutually submit to one another. And this makes sense — what qualitative difference do Jews have over Gentiles to make them spiritually superior? What do men have over women, or one adult over another?

But in the middle of all these adult equals, Paul addresses the parent/child relationship: “Children, obey your parents. Fathers, do not exasperate your children.”

Does the gospel change the nature of the parent/child relationship? Does it, in fact, elevate children to the level of equals, tearing down the authoritative hierarchy between parent and child?

I’ve thought about this. It makes no sense that the gospel would leave the parent/child relationship unaffected and untransformed, but children as equals to their parents? The parent/child relationship is the only relationship out of the three that Paul addresses here where there is a qualitative difference between the two parties.

Adults possess more wisdom and experience, and are explicitly charged with guiding their children. Children eat Tide pods, leave their chores undone, and get caught up in peer pressure. Due to their immaturity, children cannot stand alone as equals in the way a slave or a wife can. How could the gospel break down the hierarchy of parent over child in a way that still allows a parent to fully guide, care, and take responsibility for their children?

After thinking about this, I would argue that egalitarian parenting ought to treat the parent/child relationship how complementarians explain their marriages: equals with different roles, with the parents laying down their lives in service to their children and children receiving the instruction and guidance of their parents, all under the higher guidance of God.

Let me provide a contrasting example first.

A Non-Egalitarian Approach: Authoritarian Parenting

In many so-called “Biblical” parenting paradigms, the point of parenting is maintaining a strict hierarchy — even without using those exact words. Parents are unquestioningly at the top, dispensing their views and desires. Children are unquestioningly at the bottom, obeying their parents’ every word as law and meeting their parents’ every desire.

In this paradigm, the key virtues of childhood are instant, cheerful, unquestioning obedience, and respect and honor toward parents. “Because I said so” is a valid and often-repeated justification for whatever the parent requests. There is no recourse for the child beyond that — no appeal to reason, emotion, or another authority. Parents are further encouraged to make their word law and be consistent, even if their initial demand was unreasonable. After all, the point is maintaining an appearance of control at all costs.

Parents train children to come on command. Defiance or disrespect are the worst of all offenses, punishable by painful and humiliating strikes across the buttocks or other shaming tactics. Parents are encouraged to hit the defiant child until her will breaks. “Talking back,” whining, even trying to explain one’s point of view — any emotion or communication that doesn’t show cheerful compliance — is not allowed, and also qualifies a child for any sort of painful, embarrassing, or harsh punishment the parent deems necessary.

According to this parenting model, children owe parents respect and honor simply because their parents are their parents. No matter how unreasonable, unkind, or even unlawful their parents’ actions may be, children are required to respond with superhuman respect. Natural feelings of frustration, injustice, fear, or hurt are interpreted as disrespect and a threat to the parents’ authority. Maintaining the hierarchical system is what’s important here — the system of parental authority and a child’s compliance is what produces happy, well-regulated, respectful adults, regardless of the way that system is implemented or maintained.

Since the desired outcome of this parenting style is the maintenance and adherence to a strict hierarchical system, parents view their children’s actions as a direct commentary on their parenting. Since controlling another human being is impossible without utterly breaking her spirit, this inspires a constant, fearful insecurity in one’s parenting that shames parents. It also justifies even stronger reactions to their child’s misbehavior, since parents are told that their child’s behavior is something well within a parents’ control.

If their children are for the most part obedient and respectful, they feel that they have succeeded in parenting and take the credit for raising well-behaved kids. If their children struggle with emotional outbursts, defiance, or rebellion (whether real or perceived), parents feel like failures. With their own reputation at stake, parents often find amusement and vindication in seeing their child as embarrassed, disrespected, or hurt as they feel.

Even if parents feel inclined to give themselves or their kids a more generous pass, critics will blame and shame parents when their children throw tantrums in the grocery store or can’t sit still in church. And parents dare not justify these breaches of obedience with reasons like, “She was tired and hungry.” It’s expected that parents keep their children reined in and respectful at all times, no exceptions, no excuses.

It’s no wonder that many children under these hierarchical rules experience abuse of all kinds and sometimes even death. And many parents feel frustrated, defeated, and inadequate due to the impossible demands of breaking the spirit of individual little humans who have their own reasons, opinions, and feelings.

I would argue that this hierarchical structure of parenting is the most predominant understanding of the parent/child relationship today. It might take the more extreme forms of come-when-I-whistle servitude, but it most often appears as “common sense” parenting that interprets most misbehavior as disrespect, which only a strong parental hand (that is, shame, punishment, and spanking) can break.

If you take a look at some of these images, you’ll see what I mean:

This isn’t to say that respect isn’t a virtue or that children shouldn’t listen to their parents. But just as complementarians zero in on “wives, submit to your husbands” and interpret “husbands, love your wives” as authority over their wives, this hierarchical view of parenting is all “children, obey your parents” and no “fathers, do not exasperate your children.”

If we look at child development, we’ll see that many of the underlying assumptions about and responses to children and their (mis)behavior often exasperate children. I’ve used my research into child development and the theology of relationships to craft a new, egalitarian paradigm of parenting.

Toward an Egalitarian Understanding of Parenting

In egalitarian parenting, children are fundamentally human and thus entitled to the same respect, understanding, and influence adults accord to other adults. This is the key difference between authoritarian parenting and respectful parenting: while respectful parents do guide with authority, they do so not to maintain a hierarchy but to help children regulate their emotions and actions in accordance with their own beliefs and interests.

Instead of demanding unquestioning obedience, egalitarian parents foster self-regulation. This is the ultimate virtue of egalitarian parenting: self-regulation. This allows space for children’s questions, explanations, and differing opinions. This allows for parents to be wrong and children to be right about their own experiences and emotions. In short, the pursuit of self-regulation allows children to be independent of their parents rather than reflections or servants of their parents.

Since children intrinsically deserve the same sort of respect that adults do, egalitarian parenting requires the parent to follow every command in Scripture about interacting with other humans: doing unto others as we would have them do to us, responding to anger with gentle words, outdoing one another in showing honor, living with understanding, being patient with the weaker ones among us, responding with blessing when we are wronged instead of revenge.

Egalitarian parenting decriminalizes children’s — and parents’! — misbehavior. The parent/child relationship is a relationship dependent on mutual respect, not on an authoritative system to obey. This means that if a child loses her temper and shouts, “I hate you!” at her mother, the damage is relational and requires a relational — not a punitive — response.

What do we do when an adult loses her cool and says something you know she doesn’t mean? We maintain our cool. We deescalate the situation. We calmly and firmly express our hurt and/or walk away from the situation if we’re getting upset ourselves. We model the kind of behavior we want the other person to emulate, and eventually, ashamed, the other person calms down, apologizes, and the conversation often gets at the heart of what’s really going on. 

And if we do respond back in anger and shout something equally rude? Well, in egalitarian parenting, we’re not trying to maintain an impossible facade of rigid authority. Our authority is maintained by mutual, organic respect, not imposed obedience, which means we can apologize or change our minds if we said something unkind or issued a consequence that isn’t fair, and not worry that our children will lose respect for us.

This relieves a huge burden from the parents’ shoulders: they are not responsible for controlling their children, an impossible task. They are merely responsible for controlling their own behavior and maintaining their own end of the relationship — a powerful, magnetic force that draws wayward children into better ways of behaving. 

Egalitarian parenting isn’t passive parenting, however. In a relationship of equals, personal boundaries are key. Parents are allowed to be human and to set their own boundaries when they’re tired, annoyed, hurt, or inconvenienced. If a toddler continues to hit his mother, the mother is fully within her right to set the toddler down and walk away until he can use gentler hands. If a teenager refuses to be responsible with her tasks, her father is fully within his right to not save her from the consequences — unwashed clothes, a messy room, missed deadlines. But the consequences are natural, not punitive, and not meant to reestablish a parent’s hierarchical authority over their child or shame their child into compliance. 

Again, this is the key difference between authoritarian parenting and egalitarian parenting: any consequence or parental response is meant to aid the child in regulating herself and restoring their relationship, not reminding the child who’s boss and wrestling them into begrudging compliance. In egalitarian parenting, parents are not maintaining a hierarchical system. They are maintaining a mutually respectful relationship where parents seek to serve and build up the child into mature independence. 

In another post, I will break down some typical examples of authoritarian parenting and suggest more egalitarian, respectful ways to firmly and compassionately handle children’s undesirable behavior.

But How Do You Make Decisions?!

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Real-life footage of how we often argue

Complementarians incredulously ask egalitarians, “If someone doesn’t get the final say, how do you make decisions as a couple?”

This question amuses me, because I can’t imagine how else to make decisions than by discussing our opinions on equal footing and coming up with a decision on which we both agree.

It’s not always easy, of course. Sometimes I’ve wished decision-making were as simple as having the husband step in and call the shots. But there’s intimacy and oneness in making a tough decision together, with both spouses equally influencing and fully supporting the outcome. There’s wisdom, too, as two brains are better than one alone.

How do we egalitarians do this magical thing of making decisions together? It’s very similar to how most complementarians make decisions: we discuss, we listen, we look at things from all angles, we try to come to acceptable compromises or alternatives.

The only difference is that when egalitarians reach gridlock, the husband doesn’t say, “Well, looks like we can’t agree. I’m taking it from here.” The only difference between a complementarian couple making a decision and an egalitarian couple making a decision is that egalitarians keep going.

In my experience, and the experience of other egalitarian couples more seasoned in marriage than I, the perfect solution lies just beyond that huge bump in the road where you’re convinced you will never, ever agree.

Okay, but what does it really look like?

It kind of looks like an extended discussion that can span anywhere from a whole day to years, along with much personal reflection that seeks to understand one’s spouse’s position, as well as one’s own, with as much respect, charity, and open-mindedness as possible. 

Joint Decisions

When it comes to joint decisions — decisions that significantly impact both spouses — we generally yield to the person least comfortable with the decision. This isn’t something we decided on in writing; it’s just something we do, and it’s worked for us so far.

Right now, my husband is excited about buying a house. I am not. He would be happy moving this year. I would not be. Our mutual submission to each other looks something like this:

On my part, I listen respectfully when Erich tells me about a new house. I try to show genuine interest and understanding about where he is coming from. I go to showings of houses. I try to remain open-minded. I try to make sure that my objections to moving are reasonable and fair, not about being contrary or getting my own way.

On my husband’s part, he hears me and tries to understand my perspective. He does not drop the discussion or hide his enthusiasm, but he doesn’t push the issue too far so that it comes between us or gets disrespectful. He knows that since I am not comfortable with buying a house right now, we will not be buying a house until I am comfortable. He also knows that I am happy to entertain his thoughts and opinions.

For other joint decisions, sometimes we yield to the person most passionate and/or opinionated on a subject. One of our first arguments was (of course) about Erich leaving the toilet seat up. Unused to sharing bathrooms with boys, I’d tumbled into the toilet bowl a couple of times. It obviously wasn’t fair that I had to put down the toilet seat whenever I wanted to go to the bathroom. The toilet seat must stay down at all times! Then Erich shot back that it wasn’t fair that he had to put the toilet seat up every time, either.

An impasse.

I was so stunned with this excellent point that I’ve been putting down the toilet seat ever since.

Now that I think about it, Erich is much more opinionated about smaller household decisions — which brand to use, what foods to eat or not eat, how to fold socks — and since I don’t care, or don’t care as much, I shrug and do it his way. Why not?

For joint decisions that require more expertise, we generally delegate to the person more capable, interested, and/or available.

For instance, Erich handles long-term financial issues (retirement savings, the budget, investments, etc.), and I handle issues surrounding childcare and education. We do research, we come up with plans, and we present those options to the other spouse. The final decision still lies in both of our hands, but the mental load of sifting through the millions of different options rests on only one person’s shoulders. The more expert party might ask the other spouse to research a particular point or familiarize themselves with basic principles in order to make a more informed decision, but only one spouse does the mental heavy-lifting.

It’s kind of like the Congressional/Presidential relationship: one spouse is Congress, debating the options and presenting the final legislation; the other is the President, who gets veto power and can send the legislation back to Congress for further review.

That’s for joint decisions.

Personal Decisions

When it comes to personal decisions, we strive for “transparent independence.”

It’s difficult to have a truly “personal” decision in a marriage; our personal lives directly and indirectly affect the other spouse. But Erich and I agree that while it’s important to run personal choices past the other spouse, the responsibility for making some decisions lies with the person it most affects. 

We firmly believe it’s important to maintain individual autonomy in these matters. We need opportunities to fail, succeed, change, and respond to our own personal needs and desires within a supportive relationship. Exercising authority over the spouse, no matter how benevolent (as in complementarianism) or informal (as in constantly nitpicking and henpecking), is disrespectful and unnecessary in a relationship between two adults.

Further, we need opportunities to see, understand, and respect that other people can do things differently than we do. It’s not necessary to be uniform in order to be united! [1]

Issues about how we spend our free time, how we spend smaller amounts of money, how we parent, how we practice our faith, how and when we perform our household duties, what job we get, etc., all fall under “personal decisions” to us.

We’ve always run everything past each other, even if it’s not technically the other spouse’s decision or doesn’t affect them that much. “Do you mind if I spend the evening playing games with my friends?” “Would you care if I bought some snacks during the grocery run?” “I’m spending over a hundred dollars on this particular thing. Is that okay with you?”

This isn’t about permission. It’s about transparency and accountability, and an acknowledgement that our personal decisions do affect the other spouse. Normally I’m happy for Erich to play games with his friends, but maybe that particular day I’m worn out from being a stay-at-home mom and want him to watch Emmerich while I nap. Normally Erich doesn’t care about what I buy at the store, but maybe he wants to point out that I’ve been eating too much junk food or am constantly going over-budget. Of course, we trust each other’s judgment on larger purchases, but maybe we feel the money would be better spent or saved in another way.

Even with big personal decisions that hugely affect the family, we try to give each other as much autonomy as possible.

With parenting, for instance, we split along traditional mom/dad divides: I am more nurturing and cautious, Erich plays rougher and rowdier. I don’t always like how Erich parents (and vice versa!), but after saying my piece, I give him space to be the dad he thinks Emmerich should have. (And normally Emmerich giggles over whatever crazy game his daddy comes up with — even the ones that give Mommy a heart attack!)

An Important Reminder

This is what works for our particular relationship. None of this is formula for all marriages.

We’ve been egalitarian from the start, so we don’t have to deal with any latent authoritative male headship issues that might require a wife to be more assertive. We’ve never dealt with infidelity, substance abuse, or addiction, which might require one spouse to set boundaries stricter than appropriate in a healthier marriage.

And even in our own marriage, individual situations require a slightly different approach or end up with a slightly different outcome. Sometimes one of us changes our mind, sometimes we reach a compromise, and sometimes we hit upon a completely different third way. We just never know until we get there!

I firmly believe that there is no one way to reach a united outcome. It’s not about a wife yielding to her husband all the time, or a husband yielding to his wife all the time, or a wife asserting herself all the time, or a husband asserting himself all the time. It’s a dance of submission and assertion, of staying silent and speaking up, of changing one’s own mind and challenging the other’s. 

But the common denominator in of all of these variables is that we never close the discussion or make a decision unless both of us are happy with the outcome. While some decisions seem more impossible than others at the time, we’ve always found a satisfactory conclusion to our disagreements.

And let me say again: this way of decision-making is not always easy. Whether from selfishness or simply difference, becoming a united front is daunting. The decision-making process surrounding family faith and parenting, for instance, started at the beginning of our dating relationship and only reached an acceptable compromise sometime during our first year of marriage. That’s around four years of debate, frustration, discomfort, tears, and despair.

But as hellish as that time was, the outcome has been amazing. There is no resentment, no feeling that we weren’t heard or understood, no frustration about having to do things the other person’s way — only unity and understanding we never thought possible at the time.

[1] Dr. John Gottman, a prominent researcher on marital health, says that even in happy marriages, the majority of disagreements remain unsolvable. It’s important to pick your battles and give lots of grace and understanding!

For the Wife Who Married Wrong

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Women, find yourself before you decide to go find a man.

I didn’t do it this way and a lot of us didn’t…doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.

But a confident woman who knows who she is actually knows what she is looking for in a partner. She isn’t looking to validate herself with a good looking lover. She knows what her deal breakers are and so she easily rules out any companions who do not fit.

She knows she is valuable and unique. She understands herself well enough to have an idea when someone isn’t compatible with her.

Lastly, she loves herself already so when she does find a partner and God confirms, she is able to love out of an overflow of a healed heart. She isn’t trying to soothe the wounds of the past with sex and lust… And who knows…maybe once she is whole she realizes the gift of singleness is grand.

Whenever I see good dating advice, I feel regret.

Regret because I didn’t follow the good advice. Regret because I made huge mistakes. Regret because I ignored things that should have been addressed. Regret because I never gave myself the option of breaking up or waiting for something different. Regret because I feared to be unloved. Regret because I feel like I got married too soon, too young, too naive — and I didn’t realize any of this until after I got married.

It’s funny to say that out loud: I regret getting married when I did, I regret dating the way I did, I regret the choices that I made and where I ended up. All of those things are true, but once the eternal covenant is made, there’s no Plan B, no what if, no way to turn back time and try again.

But I need to say the regret out loud. I need to name mistakes as mistakes, bad decisions as bad decisions, if not for my own benefit then for the benefit of others.

I didn’t do the dating thing right.

I was verbally abusive and manipulative.

People were right to tell him to break up with me.

I was far too insecure to know what I wanted out of life or marriage.

Marrying during a catastrophic existential crisis was a terrible idea.

And it hurts — it kills — to say “I shouldn’t have” and “I wish I’d done,” especially when other couples are happy, and not in therapy, and still madly in love with each other, and telling everybody that marriage is the best thing that ever happened to them.

*

Saying those things, it feels like a betrayal of the one you love most, but it’s not. I love my husband. I’m in love with my husband.

Love doesn’t make it any easier.

It makes it more confusing, because you don’t regret marrying him, but you do, in a way, but not because you regret him, even if you sometimes do. You recognize that it’s not his fault, not even when you yell at him that it is. You recognize that it’s not the marriage’s fault, either, even though it’s so dang difficult every day. (“If you’re in a relationship, sometimes you probably feel like you’re fighting a caged death-match with an invisible spider monkey. And the monkey is rabid. And you don’t have any legs. And then a buffalo jumps in there and starts head-butting everything and your face catches on fire and there is a general atmosphere of chaos.”)

It’s a you problem, and always has been, even if the marriage exacerbates the problem and salts the wound you’re trying to heal.

Marrying before you’re ready, before you’re healed, it’s like trying to bench press 250 on a broken arm, all while trying to smile for the camera the whole time. Maybe marriage would be easier, maybe life would be easier, if I knew who I was and what I’d believed, and had the courage to be that way instead of melting down into existential angst.

I keep telling myself, I thought marriage was for broken people?

Isn’t it?

Maybe I’m a different kind of broken.

*

It feels like there’s a textbook brokenness that marriage only strengthens — and I didn’t have that textbook brokenness. I didn’t have textbook anything — an ENFJ marrying an ISTP; a recovering fundamentalist marrying a cradle Catholic; a narrative, empathetic soul marrying a facts and figures brain.

Even now, writing this, I’m giddy over him and who he is and how different we are and how that makes me laugh and challenges me — but that doesn’t take away the regret, and it doesn’t take away the fear that because we weren’t a textbook case, we’re doomed.

I’m a rule follower. Life ends if the rules aren’t followed. I have no imagination beyond the rules. I have no idea what to anticipate, so I don’t know how to react. I have no skillset for improvising life or trailblazing my own path.

When your story doesn’t follow the rules, doesn’t make a neat equation (do x to get y), when it goes completely off the rails into uncharted, unadvised territory, it makes you want to stop dreaming, trying, and hoping.

This is how I think: I broke the dating rules, and now I face the consequences.

*

This was all weighing on my shoulders, unconsciously, when Amber Picota shared the block quote of advice. Everything, everything about her advice is spot on, everything I didn’t do and didn’t understand and should have.

But for the first time, I didn’t feel only regret. I felt hope.

This good advice wasn’t, for once, in the context of the woman who followed all the dating rules and ended up with the marriage of her dreams. It was in the context of, well, having broken the rules — regret, journey, mess, change, the sensibility that only comes from doing it wrong the first time.

“I didn’t do it this way,” she can admit. “A lot of us didn’t.” (Raising my hand.) “Doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

Oh, thank God. 

And this is the hope, this is the challenge, this is what I grit my teeth to do every day: My marriage, my life will look different and messy and atypical and never the poster child for good Christian anything…but it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.

Maybe it’ll even be interesting, for once.

*

“You mean,” said Lucy rather faintly, “that it would have turned out all right – somehow? But how? Please, Aslan! Am I not to know?”

“To know what would have happened, child?” said Aslan. “No. Nobody is ever told that.”

“Oh dear,” said Lucy.

“But anyone can find out what will happen,” said Aslan.

I have lost the opportunity to know what would have happened had I waited, and healed, and collected my confidence and self-knowledge, but I can still find out what will happen now that I choose to heal, grow, and stabilize with a good, loving man.

That is still a choice I can make well, and not regret.

NB: I discovered this in my drafts folder. I wrote this a year ago, right at the end of the Seven Months of Marriage Hell where I felt on the brink of separation. I’m really happy to see that my conclusion proved true so far, and our marriage is doing fabulous!