I came into our relationship with at least two serious problems when it comes to being present with anyone. First, my mother was always present. By the time my siblings were all gone and I was old enough to have much to say - my mom was usually saying it all, over and over. So, I developed the skill of "listening" without hearing. You know how that goes. Yes and no or uh huh every now and then, listening for my name, etc. In other words, I was not really present.
Second, while reading books on the subject of ADHD to help diagnose a client, both Gayle and I realized the books were describing me and many of my behaviors. I finally understood some of the difficulties I have always had being truly present for anyone.
So what are my top 5 ways to be truly present for Gayle? They are:
5. Look at her when she talks to me (except when driving, of course.) Making eye contact ensures my presence and minimizes distractions.
4. Spend the first 30 minutes of the day drinking coffee and planning the day with her.
3. Don't start asking questions or trying to make plans with her just as she finishes with her last client of the day.
2. Get away from the phones, tvs, and computers and have quiet time together.
And my number 1 way to be truly present for Gayle:
1. Don't interrupt when she's talking.
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Is It Magic or Bait And Switch? (By Ron)
I often hear clients and others talking about how marriage destroys good relationships. I believe that is totally wrong. Marriage is usually just the next step for couples who wish to formalize their already good relationship. So, what's with the belief about marriage destroying good relationships?
Let me answer with a story. Several years ago I counseled with a young couple who had been married two years and were having severe problems in their marriage. The sexual relationship was almost non-existent. They argued about money. There was little or no conversation between them. She complained that he was almost never home, and more.
They had met at work. He was an executive and she was a departmental manager. They didn't work closely together so the company had no problem with them dating. They began to spend more and more time with each other and finally moved in together about a year before they married. They both said they had a great relationship. They went out often, had lots of friends and were together almost all of the time they were not at work.
The relationship continued to be very good for about three months after the wedding and then problems began. It took several sessions before we were able to pinpoint the causes. As is often the case in counseling we danced around for a while before finally uncovering the source. For purposes of this blog I will skip those weeks and go right to the discoveries.
He had regularly traveled for business before they started dating. That dropped off dramatically while they dated and began to pick up again a couple of months after the marriage. Also, they began to drive to work separately because he was working later and later each day and he usually worked at least one day on the weekend. Their social life dwindled away and she spent most of her free time around the house watching television and reading.
It wasn't that they didn't know what was happening. They had discussed how hard he was working. He said he was doing it to move up in the company so she could quit work and they could start a family. She said it was because he was no longer interested in her. Then she asked why he was willing to spend so much time together while they were dating but not since they married.
He didn't have an answer. She asked the same question another way. He still didn't have an answer. Finally, I asked why he was having such a hard time answering that simple question and he made a comment about not wanting to hurt her feelings. When I explained how it was already too late to avoid that he looked directly at her and said "you should have known that was dating behavior." In his mind, now that they were married he could go back to his normal behavior.
In other blogs I've talked about it being ok to be selfish. His type of selfishness is not ok. His wife was devastated. She told him she felt like a trophy, a prize he had won by being good and now he no longer had to be good. She made it clear that his behavior was not acceptable and they would have to compromise about their time together if the marriage was to survive. He couldn't and the marriage ended a few months later.
So, did you get what you thought you were getting in your relationship? If you are married do you blame that for problems? Each of you is still the same person you were when you met. A little older and wiser, maybe, but still the same. I have also heard so often that "he/she will change once we are married." Don't count on that. It rarely happens without a lot of help and serious commitment. "What you see is what you get" should be your mantra as you enter into any relationship.
It's behavior, not marriage that destroys relationships. When "dating behavior" and "married behavior" don't match, marriages often end. It feels like "bait and switch" and that is not a good basis for any relationship. When the behaviors match, however, that's where the magic happens.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Selfishness always gets a bad rap! WDIHTC - Part 3 (by Ron)
Imagine my shock when realized I was indeed a hypocrite. I really didn’t love her the way she was and often would tell her so when I was angry. With the 15 extra years of wisdom, I knew I was right. Heck – I didn’t need the 15 years for vindication, but it was shame to waste such good justification! On the other hand, I rarely let her know what I needed from her when I wasn’t angry. As a result, it was hard to make my case when all I was doing was pointing my finger and blaming. I still didn’t understand relationships (even with 15 years of extra/excess wisdom!) I still didn’t understand give and take. I still didn’t understand that it was OK to be angry but not OK to be blaming. Our age difference wasn’t the cause of my unhappiness – I was.
It’s not really important to know the result of James’ and Judy’s counseling. What’s important is to know how to answer when you ask yourself that question. So, here it is – it goes for Decembers, Mays, and anyone else in a primary relationship. Here’s the answer to “why do I have to change?” It’s simple. You change so that you can have your way! You change so that you can get what you want! Does that sound selfish? Of course it does. How often have you gotten what you want by not being selfish? Selfishness has always gotten a bad rap. The question is - are you willing to be selfish enough to make your marriage work? (more to follow...)
It’s not really important to know the result of James’ and Judy’s counseling. What’s important is to know how to answer when you ask yourself that question. So, here it is – it goes for Decembers, Mays, and anyone else in a primary relationship. Here’s the answer to “why do I have to change?” It’s simple. You change so that you can have your way! You change so that you can get what you want! Does that sound selfish? Of course it does. How often have you gotten what you want by not being selfish? Selfishness has always gotten a bad rap. The question is - are you willing to be selfish enough to make your marriage work? (more to follow...)
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The Plot Thickens - WDIHTC Part 2 (by Ron)
Then I met Gayle! She was something totally new. I was a country boy. She was a city girl. I was a child of the fifties. She grew up in the sixties. Our age gap is almost 15 years. We were like oil and water (May-December) and as you know, oil and water don’t mix. But she surely was exciting and lo and behold, we eventually married. If you have ever ridden a really high and fast roller coaster with lots of climbs and drops you know about the first few years of our marriage.
One day I was sitting in my office with a couple I was counseling. We’ll call them James and Judy. They had been married for nine years and had two children. James had been raised by a father like me who was a product of the innocent age when everyone knew their job and place in life. Judy had been raised by younger parents who were products of the sixties and seventies.
“Why do I have to change?” James was asking. “I’m coming home from work earlier. I’m drinking less. I’m trying to be better about yelling at the kids. I’ve done so many things I’ve never done before and it’s still not enough! She’s still after me to make more changes! Why do I have to be the one to change and not her? Why can’t she just accept me the way I am?”
I couldn’t recall how many times I had heard that question from both men and women in couples counseling, but it was a lot. It continues to be one of the questions I am asked most often as a marriage counselor.
I don’t remember the first time I asked the same question but I know I did. I’m not even sure I said it out loud but I was certainly yelling it in my head. “What more does she want? When will I be enough for her? When will I finally be doing what she wants or not doing what she doesn’t want? Why do I have to be the one to change even more? Why can’t she accept me the way I am? The next thought or verbalization was often; “I love her the way she is, why can’t she love me the same way?” But was I being a hypocrite? (more to follow...)
One day I was sitting in my office with a couple I was counseling. We’ll call them James and Judy. They had been married for nine years and had two children. James had been raised by a father like me who was a product of the innocent age when everyone knew their job and place in life. Judy had been raised by younger parents who were products of the sixties and seventies.
“Why do I have to change?” James was asking. “I’m coming home from work earlier. I’m drinking less. I’m trying to be better about yelling at the kids. I’ve done so many things I’ve never done before and it’s still not enough! She’s still after me to make more changes! Why do I have to be the one to change and not her? Why can’t she just accept me the way I am?”
I couldn’t recall how many times I had heard that question from both men and women in couples counseling, but it was a lot. It continues to be one of the questions I am asked most often as a marriage counselor.
I don’t remember the first time I asked the same question but I know I did. I’m not even sure I said it out loud but I was certainly yelling it in my head. “What more does she want? When will I be enough for her? When will I finally be doing what she wants or not doing what she doesn’t want? Why do I have to be the one to change even more? Why can’t she accept me the way I am? The next thought or verbalization was often; “I love her the way she is, why can’t she love me the same way?” But was I being a hypocrite? (more to follow...)
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Silverlocks and the 3 (well more than that) Hairs (by Gayle)
I recently read that the single most important invention responsible for us looking younger longer is hair color. With all the other advances (Botox, nips, tucks, lifts, potions, lotions, and peels) in “anti-aging”, I was surprised by this statement. Hair color has been around forever. Then I pondered its impact in my own life.
My mother - Goldie Luster (not her nickname) had silver locks by the time I was born 2 months and 3 days after her 40th birthday. It was 1957. Not an era in which women were typically choosing to wait until midlife to give birth to children. In fact, my mother hadn’t waited. She had given birth 16 years earlier to a son who survived for 3 fleeting days. My parents continued to want a child in the years to come, but evidently I wasn’t ready to be here yet. They were preparing to start the adoption process when I came bounding into their lives.
When I was 5, dad commissioned an artist to paint a portrait of my mother and me. At 45, her silver locks shone like a precious metal highly polished. My father adored her hair color. I know he loved me, but I think the painting was really meant to capture the beauty of her hair for all time.
By the time I was 6, the kids at school thought my mother was my grandmother. They didn’t understand the beauty of her silver locks. Neither did I. I was embarrassed by the color of her hair. I begged her to get her hair dyed. My dad did not consent. It was my mother’s head, but in those days dad was THE head of our house. No hair was changing color unless he agreed.
It wasn’t until I was 8 that my wish finally came true. My little 3 year old cousin Jody was able to reach my mom where I had failed. Jody’s favorite book was full of illustrated nursery rhymes. Jody seemed obsessed with The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe. She was constantly saying “there was an old woman who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn’t know what to do” in our presence. She dragged the book toward my mom. Mom thought Jody was bringing the book to her to read out loud. But when Jody got next to mom she opened the book and pointed to the old woman who lived in the shoe . Obviously the old woman didn’t have a flat iron, styling products, or much time to tend to her silver locks – her hair was standing on end looking frazzled.
Sweet little Jody looked at my mom and pointed to the picture. My mom got it – we didn’t - yet. Thankfully my mother’s sense of humor was much better developed that her sense of vanity. Mom started laughing and asked Jody if she (my mom) looked liked the old woman who lived in the shoe. Jody nodded innocently. That was the day my mother became THE head of her own head. Within weeks Silverlocks was gone never to be seen again.
More than 40 years later, no one had to read a nursery rhyme to prompt me get my hair colored. The first time the gray started persistently peeking at me, I sought help! Now every six weeks you’ll find Ron and faithfully tending to the ritual of highlighting and coloring gray at the salon. We visit our stylist on the same day and share an appointment so to speak. I arrive 30 minutes before him to get highlighting foils and color applied. While I’m “baking”, our stylist put highlighting foils in Ron’s hair. Yes Ron gets highlights. After too much “Sun-In” one summer, he decided to get professional help (remember, I told you we get outside assistance when we need it!) To read more about his hair coloring history click here.
For years in this May-December relationship our age difference was not much of a visual issue. People could tell he was ambiguously older than me, but no one was calling CPS. Only lately has the difference become more noticeable. In recent years we’ve had a couple of encounters where it was assumed that Ron was my father. That’s a story for another blog, but suffice it to say I didn’t like it. I think Ron took it much better than me. His pride didn’t appear wounded. I reeled silently.
Actually, I think it bothered Little Gayle, just like she didn’t want people thinking her mother was her grandmother, she didn’t want people thinking her husband was her father (ick). So I began wondering if I should grow my hair to it’s natural color. My stylist strongly objected. She said it would age me prematurely (wasn’t that the point) and that the color would look awful (no beautiful Silverlocks for me!) Coincidentally, Ron started wondering what he would look like if he let his hair grow out to its natural color (did I mention that Ron’s son also has beautiful Silverlocks.)
So there I am with a major boundary dilemma. It was Ron’s head, but I didn’t want him to change it. I struggled with what to do or not do. Finally I decided to try the enlightened (not highlightened) path and tell him about my feelings and my confusion. I explained from where my anxieties were coming and told him that I knew what he did with his hair was ultimately his decision. In Ron's typically laid back fashion he replied with a nonchalant shrug and said “No problem - I was just wonderin.” I spend (waste) a whole lot more energy worrying that he does!
And that was that. Once we (Little Gayle and I) got heard and understood the anxiety dissipated. Ron and I still get highlightened and I have ALL my gray covered too. Now I get devilish pleasure when I see confusion in someone’s eyes about our age difference. I better enjoy their perplexity while it lasts. Who knows how long it will be before my hair color isn’t enough to throw them off track! Whether or not Silverlocks ever comes to visit the heads of Lambert-Luster household remains to be seen.
My mother - Goldie Luster (not her nickname) had silver locks by the time I was born 2 months and 3 days after her 40th birthday. It was 1957. Not an era in which women were typically choosing to wait until midlife to give birth to children. In fact, my mother hadn’t waited. She had given birth 16 years earlier to a son who survived for 3 fleeting days. My parents continued to want a child in the years to come, but evidently I wasn’t ready to be here yet. They were preparing to start the adoption process when I came bounding into their lives.
When I was 5, dad commissioned an artist to paint a portrait of my mother and me. At 45, her silver locks shone like a precious metal highly polished. My father adored her hair color. I know he loved me, but I think the painting was really meant to capture the beauty of her hair for all time.
By the time I was 6, the kids at school thought my mother was my grandmother. They didn’t understand the beauty of her silver locks. Neither did I. I was embarrassed by the color of her hair. I begged her to get her hair dyed. My dad did not consent. It was my mother’s head, but in those days dad was THE head of our house. No hair was changing color unless he agreed.
It wasn’t until I was 8 that my wish finally came true. My little 3 year old cousin Jody was able to reach my mom where I had failed. Jody’s favorite book was full of illustrated nursery rhymes. Jody seemed obsessed with The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe. She was constantly saying “there was an old woman who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn’t know what to do” in our presence. She dragged the book toward my mom. Mom thought Jody was bringing the book to her to read out loud. But when Jody got next to mom she opened the book and pointed to the old woman who lived in the shoe . Obviously the old woman didn’t have a flat iron, styling products, or much time to tend to her silver locks – her hair was standing on end looking frazzled.
Sweet little Jody looked at my mom and pointed to the picture. My mom got it – we didn’t - yet. Thankfully my mother’s sense of humor was much better developed that her sense of vanity. Mom started laughing and asked Jody if she (my mom) looked liked the old woman who lived in the shoe. Jody nodded innocently. That was the day my mother became THE head of her own head. Within weeks Silverlocks was gone never to be seen again.
More than 40 years later, no one had to read a nursery rhyme to prompt me get my hair colored. The first time the gray started persistently peeking at me, I sought help! Now every six weeks you’ll find Ron and faithfully tending to the ritual of highlighting and coloring gray at the salon. We visit our stylist on the same day and share an appointment so to speak. I arrive 30 minutes before him to get highlighting foils and color applied. While I’m “baking”, our stylist put highlighting foils in Ron’s hair. Yes Ron gets highlights. After too much “Sun-In” one summer, he decided to get professional help (remember, I told you we get outside assistance when we need it!) To read more about his hair coloring history click here.
For years in this May-December relationship our age difference was not much of a visual issue. People could tell he was ambiguously older than me, but no one was calling CPS. Only lately has the difference become more noticeable. In recent years we’ve had a couple of encounters where it was assumed that Ron was my father. That’s a story for another blog, but suffice it to say I didn’t like it. I think Ron took it much better than me. His pride didn’t appear wounded. I reeled silently.
Actually, I think it bothered Little Gayle, just like she didn’t want people thinking her mother was her grandmother, she didn’t want people thinking her husband was her father (ick). So I began wondering if I should grow my hair to it’s natural color. My stylist strongly objected. She said it would age me prematurely (wasn’t that the point) and that the color would look awful (no beautiful Silverlocks for me!) Coincidentally, Ron started wondering what he would look like if he let his hair grow out to its natural color (did I mention that Ron’s son also has beautiful Silverlocks.)
So there I am with a major boundary dilemma. It was Ron’s head, but I didn’t want him to change it. I struggled with what to do or not do. Finally I decided to try the enlightened (not highlightened) path and tell him about my feelings and my confusion. I explained from where my anxieties were coming and told him that I knew what he did with his hair was ultimately his decision. In Ron's typically laid back fashion he replied with a nonchalant shrug and said “No problem - I was just wonderin.” I spend (waste) a whole lot more energy worrying that he does!
And that was that. Once we (Little Gayle and I) got heard and understood the anxiety dissipated. Ron and I still get highlightened and I have ALL my gray covered too. Now I get devilish pleasure when I see confusion in someone’s eyes about our age difference. I better enjoy their perplexity while it lasts. Who knows how long it will be before my hair color isn’t enough to throw them off track! Whether or not Silverlocks ever comes to visit the heads of Lambert-Luster household remains to be seen.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Pooling Around (by Gayle)
Spring doesn't last long here in our part of Texas. It already feels like summer, but I'm frustrated because our pool isn't ready for swimming. I've been practicing pool chemisty for 9 years now and I still can't quite get it right. Today Ron and I made one of our numerous summer treks to the pool store. I wish we had gone sooner. Today would have been a great day to get in the water.
One more time, we show up with a bottle of pool water in hand begging for HELP! A pool connoisseur is going to have to show us how to fix this mess. Again I learn something new about pool water chemistry. I continue to be amazed at how much there is discover about this subject and wonder if that's what they were teaching the day I skipped chemistry class in my senior year.
We return home with list of detailed instructions. We have pool homework! Add a little of this, wait a few hours, put in a dash of that, wait a bit more, and top it off with a skosh of something else. Sleep on it and the pool should be good to go in the morning.
During 21 years of swimming in the same pool with Ron - so to speak, we've made treks all over the country (including the Barnes and Noble right down the street) to get expert advice for our marriage. In some instances, more desperately than in others. Keeping the waters of our marriage swimable is an ongoing process and a delicate balance. Some days I need a little extra togetherness. On others, I "vant to be left alone". Ron isn't a mind a reader and I don't come with one of those nifty chemical test kits to help him figure out exactly how much of what I need and when.
One of the things we know for absolutely positively sure about each other is that we don't know anything for absolutely positively sure about each other (an exaggeration - our genders have remained the same throughout the years give or take a little estrogen and testosterone). When our water gets murky, we try to figure it on our own. If it doesn't clear up after awhile, we get help. We've learned that getting help is NOT a sign of failure, it's a part of our committment to staying "in love". We don't wait to ask for assistance nearly as long as we used to. We want the waters swimable as much as possible.
We also discovered that sometimes we have to sleep on it and we'll be good to go in the morning!
One more time, we show up with a bottle of pool water in hand begging for HELP! A pool connoisseur is going to have to show us how to fix this mess. Again I learn something new about pool water chemistry. I continue to be amazed at how much there is discover about this subject and wonder if that's what they were teaching the day I skipped chemistry class in my senior year.
We return home with list of detailed instructions. We have pool homework! Add a little of this, wait a few hours, put in a dash of that, wait a bit more, and top it off with a skosh of something else. Sleep on it and the pool should be good to go in the morning.
During 21 years of swimming in the same pool with Ron - so to speak, we've made treks all over the country (including the Barnes and Noble right down the street) to get expert advice for our marriage. In some instances, more desperately than in others. Keeping the waters of our marriage swimable is an ongoing process and a delicate balance. Some days I need a little extra togetherness. On others, I "vant to be left alone". Ron isn't a mind a reader and I don't come with one of those nifty chemical test kits to help him figure out exactly how much of what I need and when.
One of the things we know for absolutely positively sure about each other is that we don't know anything for absolutely positively sure about each other (an exaggeration - our genders have remained the same throughout the years give or take a little estrogen and testosterone). When our water gets murky, we try to figure it on our own. If it doesn't clear up after awhile, we get help. We've learned that getting help is NOT a sign of failure, it's a part of our committment to staying "in love". We don't wait to ask for assistance nearly as long as we used to. We want the waters swimable as much as possible.
We also discovered that sometimes we have to sleep on it and we'll be good to go in the morning!
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