Tricking Your Battles

Posted by fxckfeelings on October 30, 2014

War might be hell, but the decision whether or not to take on a fight can make you feel, at the very least, like you’re Satan’s upstairs neighbor. Sometimes you want to avoid taking necessary action in order to avoid (marital) bloodshed, and other times, even if you’re not in American government, you’re eager to take on a fight without realizing there’s no hope for real victory. In any case, never let anger or fear get in the way of your own analysis of the facts behind the conflict. Keeping the peace may mean that you have to stand up for an opposing point of view or just feel angry, but a little personal purgatory still beats the alternative.
–Dr. Lastname

My wife and I never argued about money until recently, when she retired and started spending large amounts on her new hobbies. We have more than enough to live on, thanks to the money I got when I sold my company, but I can’t help resenting the way she spends large sums without talking it over or checking to see how much we have left. If I share my resentment, she’ll feel I’m trying to control her, but I just want her to control her credit card. My goal is to get a handle on our finances without starting a fight that will just cause us both to feel bad and then probably prompt more spending.

Talking to your spouse about her spending is as difficult as talking about her drinking or eating, or even her skipping and gum-chewing. This is because, at the heart of it, trying to talk to someone about their actions sounds a lot like you’re trying to tell them what to do. And nobody outside of the military or the bowels of Craigslist’s sex ads wants to be told what to do, especially by the person who’s supposed to be on their side.

Because they feel like scoldings, discussions like this immediately create a quasi-parent/child dynamic, which is why things quickly devolve into eye-rolling, finger-pointing, name-calling. Ultimately, if you’re lucky, your shared tantrum will result in temporary cutbacks, resentment, and the beginning of a running, perhaps-infinite “I told you so” contest that no one will ever win.

So never communicate money worries until first reviewing your anticipated income, expenses, assets, and areas of control. Consult an accountant or a simple book or website on budgeting. Pretend you’re a corporate manager who must find out how much your department—not just this one employee—can spend next year without depleting your assets, and how much will be left after covering necessities.

Then compose a memo describing your conclusions, decisions about the spending you control, and recommendations about the spending you don’t. Edit out criticism, fear, or defensiveness; your job is to provide good information and solid decisions that reflect your values and your family’s shared need for a financial plan, not to make your wife happy.

Before sharing your report, prepare for unfair personal criticism by composing positive, fact-filled answers. If you’re accused of being a control freak, invite her to offer better solutions that don’t break the budget. Regret the fact that you can’t always agree on priorities, but don’t budge from the facts, and avoid getting emotional.

It’s too bad that you and your wife’s spending instincts are not as naturally compatible as they have been, but it’s not unusual to have disagreements when life enters a new phase. You may not be able to make her happy or end those disagreements, but you can come up with a budget you believe in, refuse to let the disagreement become personal, and stay positive about the future security you’re creating by endorsing spending limits, even when she doesn’t agree.

If you sit down to talk about the nuts and bolts of your finances, not to take apart her spending habits, you can have a real discussion that could result in a budget instead of a brawl.

STATEMENT:
“I hate for my wife to feel deprived or over-ruled, but I will not express fears or argue about spending until I’ve put together a budget and tried to engage her positively in defining what’s necessary and making tough decisions. We may not wind up agreeing, but I will keep our differences to a minimum and not express fear or personal criticism.”

When my son decided to leave for college, we all thought he’d have a great time because he’s gregarious, likeable, and well motivated. Unfortunately, he somehow got depressed almost immediately upon starting school, and the whole year was a struggle with grades that were OK, but a disappointment. Then, after coming home and immediately feeling like his old self, he decided he had the problem licked and would have no trouble going back. After returning to school and another two months of depression, however, he’s ready to call it quits and transfer to another college. I don’t like the idea of his quitting and wasting time, but I can’t talk him out of it. I’m angry, which just means he doesn’t listen to me. My goal is to give him advice he will listen to and save him from making a mistake.

Assuming you’re right about your son’s depression, and that he can’t help it, you have more reason to be proud of his efforts to make school work than you have to be ashamed of his desire to quit and come back home. After all, you don’t see him as fundamentally immature or dependent, just prone to an away-from-home depression that he can’t shake. That doesn’t mean that college has to be torturous for him, even if it can’t be an average experience.

Homesick-triggered depression doesn’t seem to have been studied objectively, but it happens to some very solid kids and is just one of those problems that usually gets better as we get older. It shouldn’t be surprising that some people have reflexes in their brains that keep them at home, at least when they’re younger, and some are born to go roving; genes are probably important and, in a Darwinian process, circumstances sometimes favor the survival of the stay-at-homes and sometimes the wanderers.

In any case, the fact that your son finds himself burdened and partially impaired by homesickness doesn’t mean he has failed or that he has to leave home, unless leaving home is really necessary, which it does not appear to be.

Instead of assuming that he needs to complete his studies at Homesickness U., ask him to consider the pros and cons of transferring to a local college by leading him through the risk/benefit analysis. Ask him to find out what transfers are possible and whether transferring will cost him any course credits or special opportunities.

Ignore his expression of disappointment and regret over how much better he could have done if he hadn’t gotten depressed; tell him that depression isn’t something you control and that it often happens in this situation. He’s been enrolled in Depression 101, a mandatory part of the Core Curriculum, and from your point of view, he’s done well with it.

Meanwhile, if it hasn’t happened already, ask you son whether therapy with a good, positive coach could help him fight the negative thoughts that depression puts in his head and whether, if it’s impairing his ability to learn, he should see a psychiatrist and try medication.

You’re sorry he had to go through this painful experience, but remind him and yourself that he went to college to learn, not necessarily to be happy, and you’re impressed that he’s learning a lot.

STATEMENT:
“I hate to see my son feel like a loser, but he’s done nothing to make himself depressed and he’s learning how to manage it. I’ll keep on coaching him through this experience.”