One Hurdle at a Time

Today when my husband got home I had left him a letter. In the letter I explained to him that through the years I have continued to show him my most embarrassing, shameful, intimate pieces, and he had yet to show me but a few of his own. I requested that before we embark on this new chapter of our life, with me going to off to start a career, we have a much needed conversation; uncomfortable as it may be.

I told him that I want to help him heal, but that I can’t heal him. I wasted so many years waiting for him to heal me, but it took me taking charge and working the issues out myself to have any effect. I told myself I was trying to fix him, when in reality I was too broken myself to do much good, and looking selfishly, with honest intent, for outer validation.

It was only when I stopped seeing everything he did or said, or did not do or say personal that I was able to grow. It’s much less of a battle today, but I still have my battles.

Far too often I would get angry and upset at various behaviors, rather than understand the past and what had created them in him. Once I got better at understanding him I was able to accept him where he is and change myself. Boy does that take a long fucking time. Insecurity and fear can gain strongholds you would not imagine.

You’re never going to change another person. They have to own their own experiences, dig up their own roots, fight their own battles, but you can be by their side through it all. I am grateful that I was able to make the first move. He has been hurt far more than I. He has lost so much more than I could ever fathom. It had to be me first. I wasted so much time waiting for him to fix it, never realizing he was far more broken than I, and couldn’t even fix himself.

He hates to talk religion. Our experience with it was much harder on him than on me. He was raised in the church and absorbed in god is love, but also just. I can remember various things he’s mentioned over the years that showed me how much shame he felt for things he shouldn’t be ashamed of. I know that religion is the root of much of it, but I don’t want to force him. So I seldom talk about it.

He still believes and says that the bible was just twisted by man, and I shouldn’t read so much stuff on the internet. He is not comfortable enough to watch the documentaries and view the sources I have yet. His cognitive dissonance remains strong.

In the letter I told him that I will love him always, and that even if he believes in god forever I am not going anywhere. Even if he goes back to church I will be here and love him, so long as he doesn’t try to force it back onto me, and does not involve our children.

However, I do want to discuss my plans to be more involved because I would like his support as well. He believes but is not fundamental in the least, and agrees it should not be in government; so we do have common ground. I want to donate to American Atheists, and go to the meet ups. I want to start a secular student alliance.

There were some things mentioned about time spent with others versus the lack of time he spends with me. I was nice and genuine and real in the letter. It still upset him because rather than play the games with me like I asked he remained silent and pulled up a software game he plays from time-to-time. At first I got angry. I came downstairs and changed all the passwords on our accounts, so he could not play them. I took his action personal, rather than as the uncomfortable reaction it was.

I realized the reason he was acting that way was not because I was wrong, he doesn’t love me, or I wasn’t good enough. He was acting that way because he was uncomfortable. I was right back into the emotional trap of taking shit personal. I was being immature and backpedaling. So I swallowed some pride, changed the passwords back, and went to him.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, and poured my heart to him. I told him he is a wonderful man, smart, funny, intelligent, and real. In fact, it was small things he has said to me during our time together that forced me to dig deeper and change. How easy it is for us to say the words.

I gave him examples of specific conversations we have had, of how I always saw his side, dug up my roots, and changed according to what he needed. I told him out loud with certainty that even if he believed in god forever I was his. I told him that I wish he could let go of it because the way he believes makes him feel shame for things he should not be ashamed of. I told him that choosing to ignore the symptoms he was resisting change. I told him to think about the sharing, growing, changing we'd already done. The trust that has built.

Before I even finished he grabbed me, took me in his arms, and kissed me like he hasn’t kissed me in ages. Our tears mixing together as they ran down our cheeks. 

And TMI or not, we made the most passionate love we’ve made in ages. We don’t have a bad intimate life in the least, but there is something different, special, and unique in that kind of vulnerable love making.

Had I allowed myself to continue to take it personal this night would have gone very differently. It does not matter to me that he did not make the move. I know why he didn't, and it isn't because he don't love me, or feel I am worth it. Sometimes we have to make the first move. We have to trust in ourselves enough to handle whatever outcome there is.

We had a nice family dinner of chicken fajitas and laughter. After wards I hung with my kids while he was in our room jamming to you tube videos. He played a song for me when I went up there: Billy Joel, A Matter of Trust. There is a line in the song where Billy sings “You can’t go the distance with too much resistance.” I chuckled and said, “Hey, that’s what I was saying earlier!” He smiled, nodded his head, and agreed.

So here is to break throughs...