Space

One of the benefits of the Ogre and I being apart for six weeks is that we have neither the time nor the inclination to fight at the moment. We often find ourselves fighting when we are back around both our families for any length of time. I have many theories on why this is, the most prevalent being that we tend to slip into younger, less-mature versions of ourselves when we spend any length of time around our parents…versions of ourselves that began this marriage, the ones who made the early years of our marriage the stormy and tempestuous time they were.

When we’re not fighting, when we’re at peace with each other and with ourselves, I gain a little clarity about myself that I don’t have when I’m in the thick of things.

Last night, we started watching a show called The Unit. I cannot recommend this show enough. It’s about a special forces unit, the missions they undertake, and the lives of their wives back on the base. It is a great show for a husband and wife to watch together, because it has the action and adventure of the missions for the men, and the drama, intrigue and human interest of the lives of the unit wives for the women. (Gah, I hate that I have to say this, but the men may very well enjoy the stuff about the wives, and the women may enjoy the stuff about the missions. I do. I’m just saying, there’s a lot there to interest both sexes, so please, nobody jump down my throat for being sexist.)

There is a particular episode when the newest member of the unit is having a tough day and one of the older, more experienced unit wives says to the wife of the new man, “When mine is like that, he usually needs some space.”

I thought to myself, how profound. And, at the same time, what a terribly difficult thing to give a man.

The wives in this show are amazing. They go to the mat for their husbands in a million different ways, from living on a paltry, unconscionable salary so their husbands can fight for what they believe in to taking the fall in a psych evaluation when one of the unit men panics and shoots a mirror after a mission. They are strong, brave and they live every day not knowing where their husbands are or when, or if, they’ll come home.

But it was that one line, “he needs some space,” that struck me the most.

When the Ogre is upset, whether he’s upset with me or upset with the world, space is the last thing he gets. I pepper him with questions, asking what I can do, how I can help, what he needs. Almost always, what he needs is peace and quiet. Space in which to think things over, work things out. I’m the one who doesn’t usually need space. I like someone to fix things for me, to swoop in and rescue me. He likes to sit quietly in a dark room and sift through things.

Worst of all is when we fight. I have an absolute inability to let things go. I’ll continue the fight ad nauseum just to see it through to some sort of satisfactory conclusion. I’ll come back, again and again, even when he says “Calah, I need some time to thing things over. I need some space.” I stay right in his face, demanding an answer, a solution, a compromise, an apology from him or an acceptance of my apology. There are all kinds of reasons I’ve given him for this ridiculous behavior, but ultimately, what it boils down to is this: I don’t like to be unhappy.

I don’t. I don’t like being unhappy or uncomfortable, so when we have a fight, I immediately begin pushing for a resolution so that I can go back to feeling secure and at peace with my world. I’ve always noticed that this tendency of mine infuriates the Ogre, but I’ve put it down to him being unreasonable or wanting to hold a grudge. In truth, most of the time the immediate solution is not always the best solution. The Ogre needs space. He needs to think things through, to work them out. On the rare occasions when I’ve given up and gone to bed and left him to actually think things out, the next day a compromise or a resolution is reached painlessly and relatively peacefully.

Once again, all this comes back to my own self-centerdness. How I expect and even demand what I need or want while refusing to do the same for others.

I don’t have any answers or pithy conclusions. Just the realization that maybe the best way to fight fairly from now on is to give my husband the space he needs. To take on the discomfort, the awkwardness, the tension and the heavy weight that I feel when we argue instead of trying to escape those feelings. To bear it a little longer than I’d like as an act of love, even in the midst of anger, for my husband.