The Right Way

Before I got married, I had heard a great deal about how difficult it is to merge two very different people from different backgrounds into a harmonious team. I thought I was pretty ready for it; we discussed money, kids, where and how we'd spend our holidays, all the basic stuff, and I thought we had pretty well reached agreement.

Then, I got married, and I got used to living with another human and making joint decisions. I felt accomplished. I read (fairly obsessively) everything I could find on marriage, divorce, gender differences and the like, and I felt even more accomplished. I got this!

Of course, real life is messy, and you end up encountering things that you never imagined existed.

After we'd been married for years, had kids, bought a home, negotiated all kinds of marriage stuff together, we were having a familiar argument. It was one of those "you or me" situations - you know, "Either you have to do this or I have to." Those things are things like who'll deal with a misbehaving child, take out the trash, cook a meal, make reservations - a job that must be done by one of the two parents in the house. The same principle applies in situations like when you'll have sex, or where you'll go for the holidays - in general, one person will get their way, and one won't, because chances are, you'll never feel exactly the same about it.

(Before you split hairs, and say things like, "You could hire someone to do that for you," or tell me that one partner could seek out someone else to have sex with, let's establish that the parameters of what's acceptable or possible in our marriage have already been set, by us. There's no money for professional cooks, housekeepers, nannies etc., and adultery is bad.)

My husband said, in irritation, "It's not all about you, you know."

I just couldn't believe that he'd chosen an argument that I thought was guaranteed to make him look bad. "Every once in a blue moon, it should be about me. Choose any method of measurement that you want, and any time frame at all - hours in a day, days in a week or in a month, months in a year - and tell me how often we do things your way and how often we do them my way. I have completely given up on ever having anything that resembles 50/50, but every once in a while, in order to keep things from being ridiculously, unhealthily lopsided, it needs to be about me."

He stared at me astonished, as if this thought had never occurred to him. He's a bright guy, my husband, so I was in turn amazed that he apparently had never considered this.

It was obviously still bothering him two or three days later, because he said, apropos of nothing, "I don't know where you get this whole 50/50 thing."

I thought, "Really?" Again, he's a bright guy. How was this new information? I said, slowly and carefully, "Because there's two of us. That means that things should be divided roughly in half. 50% of the time we should do it your way, and 50% of the time we should do it my way." How was it possible that this was not completely obvious?

I don't advocate a complete tit-for-tat exact accounting of every dollar spent ("OK, you spent $10, so I get to spend $10"), or having each partner take out the trash an equal number of times. That sort of system is an unworkable exercise in insanity in my book. It makes complete sense to have one partner do some things more often than the other. I do 99% of the laundry in our house, 100% of the bill paying and gardening, and about 75% of the cooking. My husband does 100% of the auto repair and maintenance, as well as the computer and appliance repair and trouble shooting. (Trust me, you do not want to hand either of those jobs to me, ever.) But in some very important areas, there needs to be something resembling equality, or things head south in a handbasket very quickly. If only one partner can make decisions in the bedroom, for example, that's deeply unhealthy. And don't even get me started on the fury I feel when men refer to taking care of their own children as "babysitting." It's not babysitting when their mother looks after them; it's most assuredly not babysitting when their father looks after them.

This was not the way my husband saw the world. "His" way, he explained, had "nothing to do" with him, personally, or his opinions on any subject. It was just "the right way" to do things.

Holy cow. Major lightbulb over the head moment. This explained SO MUCH! Suddenly, virtually every argument we'd ever had made sense. Good gravy!

Why hadn't he explained to me that this was his world view, I wanted to know. He was puzzled as to why I had asked. It had not occurred to him that there was another way to view things. He hadn't explained for the same reason he'd never told me that socks go on before shoes. Wasn't this something that everyone knew?

I, on the other hand, had never considered this way of thinking. There are so many right ways to do things, and so few wrong ones. Any judgement of "wrong" should be saved for matters of grave importance and moral judgement, or simple physics. Even then, realize that others may not agree. I know people for whom the Biblical injunction "Thou shalt not kill" necessitates catching insects, spiders, mice, scorpions and anything else that might invade your home and releasing them back into the wild somewhere safe. It means eating no meat and wearing no leather. For me, it means "Thou shalt not commit murder;" in other words, never decide that your wishes and aims are more important than someone else's life. There are times, however, in which it is perfectly acceptable to kill for food, clothing, shelter or self defense - and self defense includes having intruders invade my home. I will squash a bug or shoot a burglar and feel fine about it. I think that people in both camps (and everywhere inbetween) need to back off and allow each other clear exercise of their own conscience.

I grew up hearing, "There's more than one way to skin a cat," and, "All roads lead to Rome," being told over and over that there was always more than one way to accomplish any goal. I also heard "Consider the source," meaning that you needed to take people's motivation and/or abilities into consideration when making a judgement on someone's actions or words. If they meant well, or were just dim, you had to cut them some slack. The idea that there was only one "right" way to do anything was not part of my daily reality.

I was now having flashbacks to instance after instance in which my husband and I had been on completely separate pages. When we first got married, for instance, how I ate and/or cooked my food could send him into a tailspin. I remembered him insisting, completely distraught, "You cannot go on eating your sandwiches that way!" What? It was my sandwich, and I liked it. When I would tell him that, he would huff and roll his eyes, or worse, tell me, "That's irrelevant." How could the way I liked my sandwiches be irrelevant to me? I wasn't making his sandwiches that way and asking him to eat them, I was just feeding myself. Does not compute!

(His beef with my sandwiches, in case you wondered, is that I put only butter and cheese on my grilled cheese. "They have no taste!")

Other times had made even less sense to me. For instance, I cannot stand it when he wakes me by grabbing my feet. The foot of our bed, of course, has always faced the door of our room, no matter where we've lived. It makes me insane when he wakes me by grabbing my feet. I wake up in a blind panic; I cannot imagine any legitimate reason for that behavior. I would rather have someone clamp a hand over my mouth than grab my feet (or ankles or calves). When I would tell him that, he'd say, "It doesn't bother me."

"Then I'll feel free to wake you that way. But I hate it, so please don't do it. Walk the few extra steps to the side of the bed."

This was usually met with some comment about my being "controlling." And, the next time he was in too much of a hurry to take three extra steps, he'd grab my feet. Every time, I got angrier, because I'd told him, very clearly, that I hated it. Every time, he'd be more surprised, because he had been clear that it didn't bother him. So, it's controlling to allow for individual likes and dislikes, but not controlling to insist that everyone has to be the same? Really? How can that be?

To me, it seemed obvious - I should treat him the way he wanted to be treated, and he should treat me the way I wanted to be treated. To him, it looked entirely different, but just as obvious; there was one right way to handle this, and we should both conform to that right way.

Other people suddenly made more sense, as well. I remembered going round and round with certain relatives about the planning of my wedding. They'd ask me something about our colors or flowers or some such, and I'd tell them what we'd chosen. I expected, "Oh, that'll be nice," or just "OK," but most of the time, I'd get, "Have you considered X?" When I would say yes, we'd considered it but decided against it, or no, we hadn't considered it because we didn't like X, I thought that the discussion was over. Instead, these individuals would bring the same things up, over and over, and I'd end up saying "no" over and over until tempers frayed. Then I'd get more of those comments about being "controlling" and "selfish."

"So, it's controlling of me to want to plan my own wedding, but it's not controlling of you to want to plan someone else's wedding?" I'd ask, and get no response that made any sense. Usually it was some variation of, "I just want to help," or, "I just want it to be nice." Please note, people: if you want to help, you ask what the bride wants, and then do that thing. You don't try to take over, especially if you say things that translate to, "It will be awful if we do it your way." Someone else's wedding is not about you and what you want.

Again, I was functioning under the assumption that every person needed to make and act on their own decisions, and other people were thinking that things had to be done "the right way," and if I was doing it "wrong," I needed corrected. I'd never really understood why people got frustrated when I didn't change my mind to mirror their opinions. I wasn't losing my mind because they hadn't ditched their opinions in favor of mine.

Mommy Wars - stay at home vs. employed elsewhere, breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding - and various other public battles made more sense now, too. Everyone thought there was only one right way, and it was their duty to enlighten others. Oh, my goodness. No wonder I didn't understand a great deal of common social interactions!

I now understood ridiculous, repetitive, circular conversations, as well. I've always made certain assumptions about conversation in general; I tend to assume that they're an exchange of information. You tell me how you feel, I tell you how I feel, and then we'll understand each other. I never understood, then, why conversations tended to go over the same ground again and again.

I'd say, for instance, "I like A." The other person would say, "I've always liked B better." The way I saw things, we now had enough information to understand each other's behavior and choices, and that was the point. I'd go on my merry way, wondering why the other person would belabor the point. "There are just so many advantages to B," they'd say. "B is just terrific. You really should try B."

"I have. I like A better," I'd say, wondering why we were going over this again. I would get totally baffled when they'd bring it up again and again. It also made no sense to me when they said, and they often did, "Most people prefer B." I could not understand the relevance. It was like injecting, "The capitol of California is Sacramento," into the conversation. It may be true, but I couldn't imagine what it had to do with anything. If they liked B, more power to them. I liked A. That's why there are choices. It turns out, though, that a great many people's idea of "right" is tied to consensus. Whatever the majority thinks becomes "right." Pointing out the majority opinion was their "subtle" way of trying to get me to see the error of my ways, and change my mind.

This is a bad idea on so many levels. One, I do not generally understand subtlety. It passes me right by. Two, the concepts of "right" and "wrong" are, for me, morality and religion based. Therefore, there really is no "wrong" way to serve food, or wear your clothes, or plan a vacation, or choose a paint color. This is why I have no interest in fashion. Don't tell me I'm wearing the "wrong" shoes or pants or colors or whatever. It's hardly possible for it to be "wrong." (My only clothing rules for my kids were that their clothes had to meet health and morality standards.) Also, in 5 or 10 or 20 years, everyone will have changed their minds about it. (Do you see anyone in MC Hammer pants and a mullet walking down the street any more?) Three, let's think about all of the things that have been accepted by a majority in the past (or present). Are all of them scientifically correct or morally acceptable? No. Therefore, pointing out to me what the majority thinks has very little effect.

This could be why these same people viewed me as "stubborn," "self centered," and, yet again, "controlling." (I'll cop to "stubborn." ;D) I still have a hard time understanding how these terms are applicable to someone who figured that everyone should go their own way, and not applicable to someone who was trying to badger others into changing their minds.

Sometimes, someone will accuse me of promoting chaos, or of being too wishy washy to take a stand. I think they're missing the point. While I may have a high tolerance for chaos, as a religious person I'm usually accused of being too rigid, with too many rules. I do, in fact, have very firm ideas about what is morally right and wrong, and I believe that one day, each of us will stand before God to account for our actions. The thing is, I am not God, and neither is anyone else on Earth, so we don't account to each other. Since we don't have to justify our actions to each other in big stuff, stuff of moral significance, how could it possibly be that we need to stand in judgement over each other for petty things, like our food and clothing choices?

There are so many right ways to do anything, and so few wrong ones. Give everybody a break.

After so many years, my husband and I have figured each other out, to a large extent. We will still occasionally look at each other and think, or say, "Huh?" That's because we're human. Still, we do pretty well, I think.

And now I'm going to exercise come of that controlling personality to tell you what I think you should do. You should make your own choices without needing a majority rule to tell you that you're right. You should let everyone else make their choices.

After all, there's more than one way to skin a cat.