Talk Thursday – Mea Culpa November 5, 2009

As a woman who grew up in Utah in the Mormon culture, I learned that everything is a woman’s fault.  Awesome.  I am the kind of person who feels responsible for almost everything and everyone.  I am the kind of person that takes responsibility for things that are not my fault.  I’d like to change this.  

When I was married, everything was my fault.  Why?  Because everything was my responsibility.  

When Ex went missing, I came back to find him after making sure Little Guy was somewhere safe.  I could have called the Sheriff’s office and told them I had a hunch, and would they please go and check it out.  But I didn’t.  It didn’t even cross my mind that day.  I know that Ex wanted ME to find him, and that I would, and that I would take care of everything, like always.  And I am.  

Last night when I was putting Little Guy to bed, Y&H came upstairs to tell me that he had to make our bed.  ”Oh yeah,” I said.  ”Sorry.  I washed the sheets.”  

Wait.

Sorry for what?  I have been moving by myself to the new house this week, cleaning the new house, and cooking dinner every night, and I’m sorry that I didn’t get around to putting the sheets back on the bed?  For not doing everything?  No!

I went to bed where Y&H was already asleep, exhausted from walking 15 miles that day during his Elk hunting.  I tossed and turned a bit thinking about how I had gotten myself into the same relationship that I had experienced before with Ex.

But wait.  This one’s different.  I can talk to Y&H.  So, I vowed to talk to him this morning before he left in his day-glow orange suit.  

When we woke up, he asked what time I came to bed.  I told him 9:20 p.m., after I had fallen asleep twice with Little Guy, then I couldn’t sleep because of my thought about our relationship.  

“What were you thinking about?” he asked.

I took a breath and felt anxiety in my belly.  ”Was it a big deal that you had to make the bed last night?” I asked him as he put his clothes on. 

“No.  Did you think it was?” he asked.  

“Yeah.”

“Why?” he asked.  

“I’m just a little sensitive to that.  It would have been a big deal to Ex.  I had to do everything,” I said.

“I’m nothing like him, except for one day every three months,” he said.  (He has a bad day about that often.)  He sat on the bed and leaned over me so we could see each other’s faces outlined in the pre-dawn light.  ”I told you.  I cook.  I clean.  It doesn’t bother me.  I was just letting you know that I made the bed,” he said.   

“Oh, good!” I said with relief.  ”I thought I had gone and done it again just when I was thinking that this one (relationship) would really work.”

We kissed goodbye and had a laugh.  Whew, for once it’s NOT my fault.  If I had kept that silly wondering inside and let it harbor and breed resentment toward Y&H, that would be my fault.