Cully Perlman explains that, in his marriage, mending requires paying mindful and constant attention to improving himself.
___
A funny thing happened when I started writing this post. Instead of saving a document called “The Good Men Project,” I accidentally saved it as “The Good Mend Project.” Subconscious attempt at something?
I knew it was a serendipitous typo. What I had planned to write was absolutely related to “mending” or “fixing” or “improving”, at the very least, a particular aspect of my marriage.
♦◊♦
I met my wife eight plus years ago in Seattle. Over those years, we courted, nearly separated, moved across the country, bought a house, got a dog, and had a beautiful baby girl who is now almost two. All good stuff. Like most—should I dare to guess all?—marriages and relationships, we’ve had our ups and downs, but never really anything in the past few years that I’d call a breaking point, anything that would lead to divorce.
When I’m trying to work or write or read, someone breathing too loud in the other room can set me off. I’m serious—I’ve lost my shit because someone was breathing too loud.
|
I love my wife. My wife, as far as I can tell, loves me. We have goals, aspirations, passions, things we help each other achieve. And we use humor to brighten our days, usually very inappropriate humor.
My wife’s Korean while I am, for lack of a cooler definition, a Puerto Rican Jew. I’ll let you imagine the brutality such backgrounds can provide, humor-wise.
◊♦◊
What troubles our marriage, or what I believe creates tension, has nothing to do with my wife but everything to do with me. Perhaps when I was younger, maybe I would have skirted responsibility, but I’m forty-one now and I’m able to own my shit. I’m able to realize who the problem is—who causes the disagreements, shouting matches or silence that lasts more than a few hours—and I’m usually able to step back, analyze, and more importantly, vocalize why I created or steered us into a conflict. After the fire burns itself out, I’m also able to apologize, which maybe doesn’t go down so well at the moment. Sooner or later, it’s is part of the healing and mending process.
And for me, it’s the mending that helps. My wife, at least in our relationship, is the steady one, the lighthouse, the voice of reason. I have issues. I blow up. The littlest thing can throw me off balance, raise my blood pressure, make me lose my cool. Really, when I’m trying to work or write or read, someone breathing too loud in the other room can set me off. I’m serious—I’ve lost my shit because someone was breathing too loud.
My wife is like the lion tamer, the horse whisperer or dog whisperer. She’s Dr. Frankenstein while I’m the hideous, erratic creature. In fits of rage, I’m always burning down cottages. And my wife, she’s always there to put my fires out. But she’s also improved the man I am, given me life just as Dr. Frankenstein has given his creature life.
♦◊♦
But back to the concept of mending. I’m “mending” my relationship with my wife all the time. I mean, each and every day, in some form or fashion, in noticeable and not no noticeable ways, that’s what I’m doing. This — what you’re reading right now — is part of the mending. It’s my writing down exactly how important my wife is to me, how she makes me want to improve the type of husband I am, how she makes me understand that saying “sorry” isn’t always good enough.
Actually, I don’t think it ever really is.
Mending the little damages I do all the time—being inconsiderate, erratic, selfish, self-centered, hypocritical, critical, demeaning, narcissistic, impatient…you name it, I’ve been it—means working twice as much at the complete opposite of those things. It means being considerate to the best of my ability. It means creating some sense of consistency and stability. It means being generous—with my time, my understanding, my ability to empathize, see her feelings, needs and the things important to her. It means having patience when maybe patience is the thing I’m most lacking at a particular moment. It means being a human being to another human being in every way imaginable.
So I say sweet things to my wife. I send her emails. I send texts. Sometimes I send flowers (really, I need to do it more often). When I’m traveling abroad, like I am now, I think of her. I think, My wife, she’d like this knick knack, this shirt, this bag, this hot chocolate, this view of the castle, this whatever.
Mending, for me, isn’t about reacting to one particular wrong. Instead, mending is a continual process of improving, of bettering, not only the big, in-your-face, grievous wrongs, but also the little wrongs I do daily, all the missteps I make throughout the year.
It’s for the times she’s left me to my work rather than asking me to go to the store or to watch our daughter so that she can have a break too. It’s for the times she’s come home and cooked dinner and not even asked if maybe I could cook for a change. It’s for every little thing she does because she loves me and always thinks about us, not just herself.
I’m not perfect. My wife’s not perfect. We struggle with family, with bills, with the mundane tasks of everyday life — who doesn’t? My wife, though, struggles better. I’m thankful for that. I’m appreciative for that. And I’ll never take it for granted. I’ll never stop trying to catch up to her. In a way, that’s me showing my love for her. It’s how I mend the little things that are always breaking.
Image Credit: klynslis/Flickr
Thanks, Steve.
Appreciate it!
Cully
Excellent article, Cully. I enjoyed the raw honesty and ownership.
It takes a strong man to see it, admit it, write it, work on it, and keep moving forward. I’m sure your wife expects the same from herself. What a pair you make!
Hi Cully, I thought you piece was beautifully and mindfully done, and that being said I was left feeling sad. Sad for the ways we women try to make our men tap dance, try to make them prove that they love us and continue to raise the bar on what we want. I see too many good men doing back flips to make their wive’s happy when the truth is, the woman isn’t happy on the inside. Yes there are assholes out there, just like their are terrible women, and yes we all screw up and I love that you… Read more »
Hi Tamara, Sorry to hear you were left feeling sad–definitely not my intention. Clearly I can’t speak for every man–but in voicing my own experience here, I try to show, at least partially, what my experience being married is, and how I deal with it–I hope, and assume, every marriage has commonalities, but probably just as many if not more differences. As I wrote, I’m not perfect, and neither is my wife. I don’t tap dance well–but I do try, at least sometimes, to put my cheek against my wife’s, and let her know what she means to me, which… Read more »
I’m so glad you wrote back. No more sadness at my keyboard. 🙂 You are a man met in the middle and she is a woman met in the middle. That is what we all hope for. A dance of hearts.
My pleasure, Tamara. And yes–I like to think we have met in the middle. My best to you in your relationship adventures.
Cully
Wow, great article!!! You get it, you really get it!!! Lol
I can feel the love you have for that great wife of yours, your other half. But I agree with D.A., is this in your head/writing cause that can be dangerous…You are such a passionate writer, it scary sometimes how much you understand he human condition but is it in your head only??!!
I guess ‘mending’ is your road from head to heart! Your wife is lucky to have you…you guys are lucky to have each other…
Thanks!
And some of it is in my head, and most of it is in my writing. Hopefully the good bits.
A great piece. My temper has died down over the years but what also helps me is remain mindful of a single question before I take action. What am I creating in the world?
Thanks, Mark. My temper has died down, but not gone away–I’ve just learned how to control it and channel the energy into positive things–and the question “What am I creating?” is definitely where my “excess” energy goes.
Very interesting piece, and I enjoyed reading it. I’m curious about something. You refer to “… the little damages I do all the time—being inconsiderate, erratic, selfish, self-centered, hypocritical, critical, demeaning, narcissistic, impatient…you name it, I’ve been it…” Would she agree with your assessment of you? Is this assessment always in some way to do with writing – because you’re writing in your head (or on paper or on a device)? Or is it in other areas of your relationship? I got a good chuckle out of your description of losing it over loud breathing. I deal with the need… Read more »
Hey D.A., Thanks for reading. When my wife read the piece today on the site, she emailed me and told me she loved me, so yes, I think she would agree with my assessment of myself–if she didn’t, she would have let me know exactly what struck her as off base, inaccurate, or just plain wrong. And yes, the assessment, I’m both proud and ashamed to say, is always in some way related to my writing, or becomes about my writing, because, in the end, I’m a pretty simple man. Bills aren’t paid? It means I have to make more… Read more »