Communication Problems in Marriage Part II

And again I was responding to one of the reader's comments and it came out too long, so I might as well publish my thoughts as a separate post to continue with the "communication problems" topic.

Here's the similar experience of another struggling wife:

"I wish I could get my husband to have one of those "productive hearty talks." *sigh* It's been a week since our last fight (my husband sounds a lot like yours--a small spark and he erupts) He yelled at me until he suddenly retreated to his room and hasn't spoken to me since. So, even though I agree that having no communication this week has kept us from having a fight, it gets to a point where I feel a need to talk about what happened (Without him yelling at me). My husband just keeps things inside until he has forgotten about them enough that one day, magically, he acts like the past week (or month) has never happened. "


Big sigh in return... It's all too familiar. Just last Saturday my husband got upset with me about something, said a few harsh things and rushed out of the house without breakfast, as if he couldn’t bear to stay there with me another second. I was beating myself the whole day trying to think what I did wrong. I was considering calling him up to confront him what exactly made him so unhappy but I sensed he would evade the answers. I felt down as well as guilty – just didn’t know what for. But then I thought – his reaction is his problem. It’s still the same me, I am not a bad person and even if I did do something wrong, it wasn’t of the magnitude enough for someone to start despising me. There isn’t less of me even if someone's attitude implied otherwise. And I didn't become "unworthy" even though I almost felt the inclination to feel so. But I fought the negative thoughts and I carried on as usual, with my chin lifted, and my dignity, slightly dented, by all in all intact.

Maybe your husband can sense your urge to talk and deliberately avoids it because of that? Or maybe he needs time and space to cool off? Regardless his intentions and reasons, try to protect yourself first. Think of your arguments and best way to present them, in case he is ready to talk soon. But also think of the ways to distract yourself if he isn’t. Keep busy with other things. Right now you play by his terms but you can absolutely reverse that. Tell yourself that you are beautiful, smart and loveable, and no one can take it from you. And then act like it. I don’t mean arrogant, more like friendly but with dignity. Men are often like kids – trying out different reactions to test your limits. And sometimes they charge their ego on your neediness, which every fight emphasizes even more. Being the same cool you no matter what will discourage them to experiment too much.

We also have a lot of “buried” arguments, that are forgotten without being resolved. Sometimes we want different things so I accept his reluctance to talk and don’t push it. But I do have a “discussion” in my head, where I get to state all my reasons and then make the imaginary "court" declare me 100% right and “clear me of all the charges”. And knowing that I was right makes me feel better and more lenient towards the defeated side ;)

Thank you so much for your comment, it's always interesting to learn about couples having similar issues and how they are dealing with them.

Communication Problems in Marriage

I don’t know about you, but we keep most of our thoughts to ourselves. As much as they (marriage counselors) advise communication to keep your relationship functioning, to us it tends to backfire. It’s like living in the highly-flammable atmosphere and one spark is enough to set off a blast. And neither of us like dealing with the aftermath. It’s hard to say why communicating isn’t always working for us. Maybe we are too different and operate in frequencies that have little in common. Or maybe we are too alike: two stubborn mules that refuse to accept that the other is right. And probably there isn’t enough room for both of our over-sized egos. Even when we try to talk out whatever problems we have, we end up fighting. And what’s really frustrating is that neither of really attempts to listen, to hear the other side: we choose to presume that the “other’s” perspective cannot coexist with “mine”.

So I felt more and more convinced that silence can be a helpful device, for our relationship in particular. I even wrote a post on that last week, just didn’t have time to edit and publish it. And I am glad I didn’t because yesterday we had one of those productive hearty talks that brought the long-sought relief to both of us. It concerned raising our son: he felt too alienated from the process, I felt too overburdened, like he left me to deal with it alone and I wasn’t always successful. He showed me his side of things and how deep his pain was, and I showed him mine. There was no equilibrium and everyone suffered, just in the opposite way. And this mutual suffering, when heard out and acknowledged, made us even. We were both victims and we were both guilty of doing things the wrong way, which made us realize that we are not enemies. We are in the same boat and it takes everyone’s effort to keep the balance and make it float.

It’s always easier to withdraw, to avoid intense discussions because we believe that it’s the best way to avoid pain. But those unanswered questions and unexpressed concerns only pile up inside. They make you angry, the kind of subconscious anger you no longer know the roots of, because you let things clutter for too long. I know that sometimes I have to force myself to communicate, and many times I fail, but the benefit of clearing things cannot compare to hiding them deep inside, hoping that they will resolve on their own.

Happy Married Days

Sometimes we have those cloudless days of close-to-absolute happiness. I don’t know if it has to do with the warm spring weather and blossoming trees, or maybe those are fortunate for love days from the astrological point of view, or maybe our acts of goodness (and more importantly acts of patience) granted us enough good karma to enjoy these days of peace. The reasons could be beyond my understanding – all I know is these moments do happen, and we are both so gentle, and agreeable, and patient (not the usual forced kind of patience though), and effortlessly forgiving. We are almost in love like in those early days when love was such a source of novelty, surprise and endless bliss; back then we viewed every other aspect of life through a thin layer of love we shared, love was omnipresent.

So these peaceful days create a noticeable contrast to the busy, even mindless life we have, as well as to the dark days that occur in our relationship now and then. And it’s probably the contrast that makes you more appreciative of these rare moments of shared happiness, which takes you to a different level than plain old everyday content. You relax with your words and actions. You are calmer and kinder. And you are definitely more confident, because at least temporarily you can put to rest all that doubt and self-questioning, but feel desired and very attractive for a change.

Some can exclaim - what the hack is she talking about? That’s what a normal marriage should be like. Every day. But it is not for me. Mine is a crazy roller coaster. I acknowledge when we hit the bottom so it would only be fair to acknowledge when we reach the top. And try to prolong our stay there. It will be of great help to guide us though the time when we are going down instead of up. So when the serene days are over and the usual problems creep in, memories will last long enough to remind us that we are not together for nothing. And for that I am sincerely grateful.

Movie Night

As it is we went to the movies. 8 years later we went to the movies together for the first time. Till the last moment I thought he will bail out of it, but he did come with us. Though he did jump on the work-related call just as we parked the car and were all in the let-the-fun-begin mood. He hated the theater (it did smell kind of nasty). He didn’t like the idea of wearing the glasses even though you can’t watch a 3D movie without them. I volunteered to go get popcorn which he barely touched. And of course of all the people he had the “luck” to sit in front of the boy who kept kicking on his chair, but instead of asking him to stop he just sat there slowly filling up on disdain and anger. And the movie itself was too boring and naïve for his taste. He did laugh a couple of times at odd places. But mostly I just sensed his tension which spread onto me so I couldn’t enjoy a rather enjoyable movie either. I noticed all the annoying things that I successfully ignored before: babies crying, loud ladies with too loud laughter, snacks being unwrapped wits rustle. Then he started checking his phone – I saw no missed calls on the screen. Yet he asked what time the movie ends. Then he suddenly had enough – he walked out in the middle of it saying he will wait for us in the car. I will never believe that sitting in the car can be more enjoyable than sitting in the movie. Yet it was a relief when he left as though he took all the tension with him. I finally got into the movie as I should have from the start and felt the familiar pleasure of being carried away, into another world, another reality.

He barely spoke in the car, though he did ask how we liked the movie. I barely spoke too struggling to accept, embrace, make peace with the fact that I share my life with someone who doesn’t know how to enjoy anything. Dry. Spiteful. Impatient. Always cranky. What I didn’t want to see or fully acknowledge was presented to me in a most bold form. I don’t complain. I probably don’t even have regrets. It is what it is no matter how annoying the phrase is.

I do want to ask – why? And why me? And if there’s hope? And will it change? For now I’m just trying to deflate a little that big balloon of hurt, minimize its effect and, as another beaten-up phrase suggests, focus on the positive. Is wanting to share my unshared life too much to wish for?

Broken Pieces

I broke a plate this morning and it felt good to smash it on the floor, to feel a morbid satisfaction from seeing it breaking into pieces (for a fraction of a second I thought it wouldn’t break). It was a moment of culmination that brought us back to our senses and stopped the fight when it barely started. Too bad it happened to be a plate from a brand new set so the remorse lingers: why I couldn’t I have picked out some old cracked bowl?!

I’ve broken enough plates in this relationship and the act always brings relief, inexplicable redemption; it’s like a period at the end of a long and confusing sentence when you run out of places to put commas. A timely explosion, a rather welcoming meltdown that prevents something bigger from breaking: it’s buried inside, so fragile and weak, but you’d rather break a brand new plate than let the fury in, than expose yourself to its demolishing power.

He said, “All your life is broken…” but in a calm voice now, since the crashing sound abruptly made screaming irrelevant for both of us. And he busied himself with cleaning the mess, which showed clearly that he took the blame. Unleashed anger can do more damage than we possibly imagine when blind rage sends only one command to your brain, “fight!” And before you know it, it’s too late and the words yelled out will be carved in both your memories forever and no amount of good make-up acts can erase them or help you pretend they were never said.

But he got it all wrong: broken plates do not symbolize my broken life or crushed hopes for happiness. I break them so as to stop us from breaking more important unfixable things. For a long time I considered it a coping method of mine but it does us both a service. It makes us both stop before we cross the line, it helps us go on unbroken. And maybe one day I will discover a less savage way of keeping us sane when we are about to lose it. But this morning the broken plate was the necessary sacrifice that saved both our faces.

"Leave My House" or My Reponse to a Comment

I got an emotional yet thought-provoking comment to my post "Stick With Reality" from one of the readers. I wrote such a long response that I might as well publish it as a separate post.


Hi Layla
I am not an avid blogger but started the day hoping to find some opinions that would guide my dead marriage.Its good to know that you are ready to unlock mysteries hidden inside your "someday good,someday bad" husband. I strongly believe that people tend to drag such relationship because they fail to see a better life outside.I am now married for 9yrs and have a lovely 7 yrs old boy. Its easy to say that I waited so long because I wanted to give my child a normal environment to grow. But the fights are becoming too frequent,many a times right in front of my son. After every fight my husband will succeed in pulling him in his side by way of taking him out or buying him expensive gifts. I know the poor child needs to be diverted from domestic hatred that is brewing among us adult but this has caused a big gap between me and him. He wants to be with his dad and sometimes when he is angry he even tells me to leave the house(the way his dad says) and that he wants to be with dad and not me.All these years I waited for him to grow....like this?
Still I would have thought of continuing,had there been a life of little dignity.
He doesn't want to talk..recently I begged him to talk but he shouted" I don't Value you" so no need to talk. "Get out","Go to your dad's house","leave my house"...these words are regular. I don't know,how am I going to do it...I know right now there is nothing better outside....but after many painful and sleepless nights,I have come to the decision to give my life a chance to live with dignity.

I am not a marriage counselor, I just share my own experience, but as a person who's been there I would like to respond to you.

I've heard things like "Pack your things and leave!" a number of times, I've been cursed at a number of times. I do not respond to any of that, I immerse myself into silence - not the "I'm-not-talking-to-you" type of silence, but the one that shows that I am ready to talk but only in a civilized way. Rudeness automatically turns on my "deafness" and "muteness" and that's the way to preserve my dignity and cool down his overheated temper. It's a waste of time to respond to these empty threats (if he truly wanted you to leave, he would personally pack your bags and put them outside the front door), but he uses them because it's a way to hurt you since you obviously still let these things get to you.

I devote so much of my time and attention to our son: reading to him, inventing games, helping with homework, watching kids movies together. And my husband just takes him to Toys R Us once every 3 months and it goes like "take whatever you want, son!" And immediately the scale shift to his benefit. So that's also familiar. But I know that in a matter of days all those cool toys will be scattered around totally forgotten. They will not be the central piece of his childhood memories when he grows up, but your love, attention, and shared experience will be.

The dangerous part is when your son begins mimicking his father and treats you without respect. In these situations I usually tell my son firmly, "I will only talk to you when you calm down and go back to being polite". I know he will outgrow it: for now it's nothing but a childish way to express negative emotions by copying the way adults do it. But I dread that one day he will treat his wife poorly so I do everything in my power to emphasize the cruelness of maltreatment - whether it's bullying at school, or husband yelling at his wife. I know that my stories and examples will root deeper than the impression caused by all the toys and games combined. Children grow up and the veil falls from their eyes: then they can judge everything for themselves and all the manipulative practices used on them in childhood come to the surface. And when it comes to my side of the parenting job I have no worries: I never attempt to buy love, I just give it unconditionally and it will be fully appreciated if not now then in a number of years.

I know your pain far too well because those are all familiar hurts. But not everybody has it the easy way. And I don’t encourage you to ignore the problems, just on the contrary make sure to have a “room” in your heart, where you store all the unfairness, the ill treatment, the abuse moments you experience in your marriage. This way you keep your eyes open and don’t pretend that things are fine. But make sure it’s not the only room or the biggest room. Make sure you preserve self-respect and communicate that you still have it in abundance. And sometimes it really helps to close up so that your husband’s poisonous “arrows” hit the wall and do no harm: when he can’t hurt you he may lose any interest in trying.

Feeling Hopeless In Marriage

I have my dark days. And when these days come, nothing that I do can help elevate the gruesome feeling of hopelessness and resentment. Then my thoughts begin to spin in circle: that’s not what I signed up for! I deserve better! It’s not fair! The inner storm escalates to a point where I beg for a sign pointing to the exit, something that says “escape is that way”, which I will follow without hesitation out of fear to explode. But there isn’t always escape, nor do I end up exploding with indignation. I plunge into deep mental work of sorting myself out, sorting us both out, letting the storm subside so that I can breathe normally again.

There are really two paths that I may choose to take: the dark and the happy one. And I’ve set down the dark path many times, always reaching the point when I knew I had to turn back, give it another chance. It’s the path of negative emotions, finding faults, blaming, hating and non-talking. Something you could rightfully call the “cold war” for no missiles are launched (such as filing for divorce) but the anticipation of the breakup is in the air. It’s when you do nasty things to each other to hurt back for all the past, present and future wounds, when all your actions are aimed at expressing contempt, even disgust. But you don't leave. Yet.

I’ve never walked down that road for more than a few days, a couple of weeks at maximum for the fear of destructive consequences this approach has on my soul. I would become a bitter scornful woman, get soaked with disdain. I would darken the already thick darkness. So I always chose to come back and initiate appeasement. But many people live in the state of cold war for years. And even as they head for divorce, the resentment lingers long afterward. No enemy left to fight but the fighting habit remains. And whole years are to be erased from you memory.

I don’t know how things will end for me. And I become even more clueless in my dark days. All I know is that I am not capable of choosing the path of hatred, I value my life and my dignity higher than that. Letting someone destroy you is as good as choosing to destroy yourself. So I will always choose the path of love and forgiveness, even knowing that this love is undeserved and unappreciated. Regardless the outcome, I want to be able to look back and see myself not losing dignity, rising above the hurt feelings. There’s always some light in our married days, weeks, years – our experience, our growth up to the point of complete transformation, all the wisdom that we acquire along the way. It’s just up to us whether we choose to see it or ditch these years as a complete waste of time.