By Elly Mullins
“Do you want to be right, or do you want to be married?”
Sometimes my therapist would ask me, after I shared about a conflict with my husband: “Do you want to be right, or do you want to be married?” Some weeks when he asked this, and I’d respond that marriage was over-rated. And other times, I would think deeply about my need to be right, and realize that my pride was overrated. It’s a rhetorical question; but it’s a good way to think about what matters: your ego or your relationships with others? When is it worth standing your ground, and when is it worth letting an issue go?
As a wife, partner, and parent, I constantly thought about the needs of my family, the needs of my husband, and most importantly, the needs of my son. As a teacher, mentor, and active member of my community, I constantly thought about the needs of my school, my students, and my neighbors. The personal principles that I adhered to prioritized my role as a helper and caretaker in service to others, and I felt deeply accomplished in my commitments to these people and places I cherished. I was someone who people could depend on, I was quick to say “yes,” and I felt great satisfaction in being so flexible and accommodating that I could meet so many people’s needs on a regular basis.
Yet, this was a serious point of contention in my marriage. My husband would remind me that I should take breaks. That I was not responsible for taking care of others. And that it was healthy to say, “No.” He would urge me to put aside work on weekends to have friends over or go on a weekend trip. When our son was born, he suggested that my work-life balance needed some adjustments, or I would burn out. That our family would burn out. That I would never be able to live up to the standards that I set for myself as a teacher or parent or partner. And I insisted he was wrong. I could do it all – and as a woman in the 21st century, I should be able to do it all.
Man, was that exhausting. Everyday trying to prove myself. Everyday trying to convince my husband that he was wrong. That he didn’t understand me. That I was capable of more than he was giving me credit for.
But I knew he was right. And we were married. It was important that I listen to my partner, or I was going to fail to live up to any of the expectations I had set for myself, never mind all of them. I needed to make changes, and it seemed that my family needed me to make those changes as well.
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The first change I made was to add myself to the list of people for whom I was responsible. I was busy placing everyone else’s needs first, and it seemed I had lost touch with my own. I thought about the present and the future, and I realized that my career path had limitations, and I wanted to explore other options within my field.
I also started to notice a pattern in my relationships with certain friends. I felt good that they could lean on me for support, but they were often not around whenever I reached out. I decided that I would have to address this with my friends, and I knew it would feel uncomfortable.
Over time, the changes helped me feel more peace. I found ways that I could be involved in the community and with work, but I began to establish boundaries. I heard my husband’s pleas, and I quit my job to stay home with our son while he was still young – and I returned to school. My husband would make plans with friends, and I would participate regardless of how much work I still needed to finish. In making some of the changes, I made huge sacrifices personally and professionally, but I felt a transformation occurring within myself based on my willingness to think differently.
The most significant change that I made was the last decision I made as a married person. At the time, I did not know this was the case. But having added my own needs to the top of the list of people to care for, I started to realize that while I was making decisions to prioritize my family, my husband was not doing the same for me. He was asking so much of me, knowing that I was trying to be more flexible in my thinking; but when I asked the same of him, he responded with resistance and anger, not an open mind like I had hoped. My efforts to stay married had made me too flexible, and it wasn’t until I asked the same of him and he refused that I could see this.
Relationships – whether they are between friends, lovers, colleagues, or parents and children – require both sides to be able to listen to each other and show flexibility in thinking. Learning to become less rigid was a challenge for me; I needed someone else to point out that my way wasn’t the only way, or even the best way. And I learned to be okay with this. But I also learned to be that person for others – to ask questions and raise concerns and examine the myriad of solutions to problems. I am not right all the time, but my relationships with others are stronger. I am not married, and I’m only sometimes right. But I am so much stronger.
Photo by Aleksandra Mazur on Unsplash
