For years I hid from my marriage, saying everything was great, while it was falling apart underneath and I just wanted to run. Somehow we stayed. Now I'm looking at the cracks and working on fixing them, one at a time. I write so other people might see themselves in it too.
Your honesty heals. As it happens this is exactly what I have been thinking about this morning. The house, and the foundation. Wanting a house AND a stronger foundation. Like so many joint projects, one looks at the foundation and says, "those cracks, they worry me. I swear the house isn't settling properly and that is going to affect so many things upstairs. Can we fix them before they get worse?" The other says, "it's fine, it's expensive to fix" (and secretly says to self: "I don't know the first thing about fixing them; this whole conversation makes me nervous."). That unresolved tension. It can be so hard to live with ... and as usual, you name it so well.
Rebecca, this means so much. And your version of it, the cracks, the "it's fine, it's expensive," the secret fear underneath the dismissal, that is so precisely the same tension, just in your own house. I think that's the part nobody talks about enough. It's rarely that one person doesn't care. It's that one person is ready to look and the other isn't sure they'll survive what they find. Sending you so much love as you sit with your own foundation. Thank you for trusting me with it.
I write these so others can see their own life through mine. When I was struggling, I didn't know what to do. If I had read something like this back then, maybe it would have helped me start the conversation with my husband sooner. That's who I'm writing for now.
My husband and I are trying to move the mountain as well. It’s a little different from what you and your husband are going through, but I can really relate to the concept of it feeling so overwhelming when you look at all of it at once. We have to break it down into small chunks and work on small pieces at a time.
Congratulations Katie for looking at the mountain and breaking it down into small chunks. I did not even know my husband and I had a mountain of things to work through. Now I think how could I have missed these. When everything looks good on the outside, it does not make sense to dig to find what is going on below the surface. Now I understand this is our new relationship. And I am excited about where it will take us.
This is so honest and vulnerable. Having the courage to question the way things are is already a win.
For years I hid from my marriage, saying everything was great, while it was falling apart underneath and I just wanted to run. Somehow we stayed. Now I'm looking at the cracks and working on fixing them, one at a time. I write so other people might see themselves in it too.
Your honesty heals. As it happens this is exactly what I have been thinking about this morning. The house, and the foundation. Wanting a house AND a stronger foundation. Like so many joint projects, one looks at the foundation and says, "those cracks, they worry me. I swear the house isn't settling properly and that is going to affect so many things upstairs. Can we fix them before they get worse?" The other says, "it's fine, it's expensive to fix" (and secretly says to self: "I don't know the first thing about fixing them; this whole conversation makes me nervous."). That unresolved tension. It can be so hard to live with ... and as usual, you name it so well.
Rebecca, this means so much. And your version of it, the cracks, the "it's fine, it's expensive," the secret fear underneath the dismissal, that is so precisely the same tension, just in your own house. I think that's the part nobody talks about enough. It's rarely that one person doesn't care. It's that one person is ready to look and the other isn't sure they'll survive what they find. Sending you so much love as you sit with your own foundation. Thank you for trusting me with it.
Thank you for being so vulnerable 🙏🏽
I write these so others can see their own life through mine. When I was struggling, I didn't know what to do. If I had read something like this back then, maybe it would have helped me start the conversation with my husband sooner. That's who I'm writing for now.
My husband and I are trying to move the mountain as well. It’s a little different from what you and your husband are going through, but I can really relate to the concept of it feeling so overwhelming when you look at all of it at once. We have to break it down into small chunks and work on small pieces at a time.
Congratulations Katie for looking at the mountain and breaking it down into small chunks. I did not even know my husband and I had a mountain of things to work through. Now I think how could I have missed these. When everything looks good on the outside, it does not make sense to dig to find what is going on below the surface. Now I understand this is our new relationship. And I am excited about where it will take us.