My Spouse’s Feelings, Myself

Posted by fxckfeelings on February 1, 2010

Nobody likes to see their partner suffer (well, some people do, but that’s their own perversion), especially when that suffering isn’t just out of your control, but their control, as well. We all want the people we care the most about to be happy, but, as we’ve said many times, ensuring happiness of any kind is impossible, no matter where you live, how likeable you are, or where you went to college. In the almost-words of another (recently departed) Harvard alum, “love means never having to say I’m sorry (that you feel like shit, leave it to me to fix it).”
–Dr. Lastname

About 10 years into our marriage, my husband and I got inspired by a trip down the Snake River in Idaho and decided we should move there as soon as we could afford it. Something about the wilderness eased our hearts and made us feel safer and more grounded than we ever did in the city. Well, now it’s 15 years later, and we made the move to a beautiful house with a breath-taking view and no visible neighbors, and I found a way to telecommute to a job, but my husband still has to fly back and forth every couple weeks and spend at least half his time in our old city. The problem is that I can tell my husband’s not doing so well; he complains about feeling lonely when he’s on his own, and he’s restless when he’s with us, and then he blames me and claims the marriage lacks “spark,” and I can see the wheels going in his head, wondering whether he’s ever going to be happy. My goal is to get my husband to enjoy our new life as much as the rest of the family does.

The danger of any moment of happiness or inspiration is feeling responsible for making it happen again.

You got inspired by going to Idaho, so you think it’s yours to recapture whenever you want, forgetting about all the usual shit that you don’t control. So you plan for years and finally make the big move, and your husband’s “inspired” to wonder what happened to the big pay-off.

His mistake is making it his goal to be happy; be it from buying a house in a natural heaven or adopting as many cats as your house can hold, this goal will mess you up every time. Nature is just the setting; there’s too much he doesn’t control about what really counts, which is what always counts.

Remember, nature really isn’t any more meaningful than the rest of life’s shit. One day, you’ve got beautiful sunshine, steaks on the fire, and thrilling sex in a tent. The next you’ve got rain, insects, and accusations about who lost the toilet paper.

On a good day, there’s nothing like nature, but after a couple years, the kids have gone and it’s you and your husband trying to make a living, keep busy, and get along with one another, same as usual, but with a beautiful view.

Except now, you and he have the same control over these things; if anything, you have less control, because you’re aging and you don’t know whether your kids and their spouses will have the time to visit your off-the-beaten-air-routes hideaway.

So encourage your husband (and yourself) to take no unrealistic responsibility for your move-related happiness. You moved for good reason and did it well, but you knew there were many things, including his work-transition, that might ruin it for one or both of you, at least temporarily.

Remind him, and yourself, that it can never be a failure because you’ve done a good job, and that’s true whether or not it works out. Human nature, like any other kind of nature, is unreliable. And the view isn’t nearly as good.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a statement to support good migrations regardless of their results. “I love this place and think moving here will be worth the sacrifice, but I know you’re making the bigger sacrifice by commuting. I respect the unhappiness and loneliness that you’re putting up with to try to make this experiment work. Whether it works or not, we’re doing a good job of trying.”

My wife and I are a little odd; being nerds is a big part of our connection. When she had our first son, she stopped working, and hasn’t gone back (and hasn’t needed to, because my tech job supports us quite well, and she never liked her job that much, anyway). She loves being a mother, but, without a workplace to socialize in, most of the adults she meets are our sons’ mothers, and, seeing as my wife is a nerd like me, a lot of them don’t really get her, and so I can tell she’s feeling a little isolated. Recently, though, she’s had a rough time because the group of fashionable PTA mothers who thought she was cool and befriended her decided she was too standoffish and dumped her, and now she’s feeling like a social failure. She’s really a polite and thoughtful person, and there’s nothing wrong with her social skills other than that she’s an intellectual weirdo, like me, and her erstwhile friends are like a nasty high school clique. I know that she’s lonely and easily depressed, and I don’t want her to feel so alone. My goal is to help my wife find friends and happiness outside our home.

When you’re a weirdo, as you probably know, you gotta get used to a certain amount of loneliness (which you might remember as, the years before you met your wife).

The alternative is worse: trying to fit in with people who aren’t really your friends and then feeling like a bigger loser.

It’s not a choice, it’s not a calling; if you’re weird, you’re weird, and sometimes that means you can’t be happy. Not that “normal” people are happy all the time. But sometimes, they’re happier than you are, for no particular reason, and that’s the way it is.

For the time being, she can’t be happy and you can’t make her so, and expecting otherwise will make you both feel like failures. Just feeling like a geek is so much easier. Geek comes from the Inuit word meaning “he who eats different fish and is unpopular and unhappy but does nothing wrong.”

So remind her that it’s not easy being different, or green. But you like her that way and think that her weirdness, and yours, are part of what make you good friends and parents, even if you sometimes feel isolated.

Remind her how much you respect the way you are. Recite “Monty Python” lines to each other, reread some Terry Pratchett, and find comfort in nerd pride and each other.

STATEMENT:
Write a proud statement. “I love your weird style and think it’s a big part of our being a good, solid family, but it’s not a style that everyone will like or understand, so there will always be some lonely times and rejections, just as there have been in the past, that will have nothing to do with making mistakes or saying the wrong thing. The good news is that you’ve done nothing wrong. The bad news is that there’s no mistake to correct, so this pain is unavoidable. Bummer.”