DrBennaIsIn -- Let's Talk!

Can you see me now?

 

Leslie was sharing with her best friend, Natalie, the painful details of last night’s fight with Arnie. Her red-rimmed eyes held tears, her lip quivered, her voice quavered, and her nose was starting to redden.

Natalie reached across the table, careful not to bump the teacups, and covered her friend’s hand with her own. “Poor sweetie. This must have been a bad one; you look so upset.”

For some reason this comment made Leslie break down completely and cry outright.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

Through sobs and hiccups, Natalie was finally able to understand that Leslie had said, “It’s as if he doesn’t even see me, Nat, when we fight. You take one look at me and you know how I’m feeling. He seems to look straight through me. Nat, does that mean that he doesn’t care? Does it mean that he doesn’t love me?” Leslie just sobbed harder. Natalie was holding both her hands now and murmuring soothing words and sounds.

When Leslie’s crying quieted down to the occasional hiccup, Natalie thought it might be a good time for her to start to talk.

“Les, I’ve known you and Arnie a long time now. I know without doubt that he loves you. And I know too that he cares about you.”

“You do, really? How do you know?” Leslie’s lip was quivering again. She was desperate for reassurance. She’d always been confident about and secure in Arnie’s affection and commitment. The only times she doubted them were during and after fights. It was as if he just went away emotionally when they fought, as if he were indifferent to her feelings just when they were so overwhelming to her.

“For one thing, Les, when the two of you aren’t having a fight he treats you like his princess. He’s attentive to you, thoughtful, and generous. He speaks about you to others with such love and affection. He’s clearly devoted to you.”

Leslie sniffled, sipped her now lukewarm tea, and said, in a more normal voice, “So who’s the guy who stands in for him when we fight? That guy seems totally disconnected from me just when I’m at my most emotional and needing him the most to reach toward me. Is that his stunt double?” Leslie finally cracked a smile, albeit a wobbly one.

Natalie, relieved to see that Leslie’s crying had apparently passed, at least for the moment, smiled back at her.

Natalie, who was doing some post-graduate study in gender differences, thought that Leslie had calmed down enough now to hear some of the research that Natalie had recently read about.

“You’re more on target than you know, Les. It sort of IS his stunt double.” Leslie looked up from her teacup and said, “What? What do you mean?” Her curiosity was aroused now and was overtaking her distress.

“There’s some pretty new research on how men and women react differently during times of conflictual arousal, meaning during fights. They’ve done studies with brain imaging. The parts of the brain that work to facilitate observation of faces and emotions work differently in men and women during fights. In men those parts become less coordinated. That means that they have less perception of emotion, which leads to less empathy. Sometimes it even leads to men withdrawing emotionally from their partners during the fight.”

Leslie was wide-eyed. “That’s exactly what it feels like!” Natalie nodded. “But, Nat, that’s not what a fight is like for me. I don’t want to withdraw. I’m fighting to get through to him and to get closer.”

“Yep, that’s what the research shows. During the same states of conflictual arousal women’s brains become more coordinated, with increased perception of facial expressions and of emotions. Women become more empathic at such times, making them draw closer to their partners, just when their partners may be shutting down and pulling away.” Natalie let that sink in for a bit before continuing.

“So, Les, it sort of IS his stunt double. The loving, connected, caring, and perceptive Arnie that you love pretty much goes away when things get intense enough. When the emotions run high enough, the Arnie brain clicks off and the stunt double steps in.”

“Well, that stinks. So what do I do about it?”

“My professor teaches her marriage counseling couples a fight protocol. As soon as the fight becomes too emotional the couple agrees to take a twenty minute time-out. That allows the male brain to re-coordinate and the female to behave in a less emotional way. When she can keep the emotion more modulated, he can stay engaged better. She says it takes commitment and practice but that it really helps those couples who will do it. But it has to be arranged and agreed upon BEFORE the fight ever happens, when things are calm and collaborative.”

Leslie was nodding; this made sense to her. She was hopeful that it would make sense to Arnie too. She felt so much better now that she had some science to soothe the hurt feelings.

 

It’s nice to be chosen

 

Fiona had the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, talking to her mom, while she used both hands to braid Nikki’s hair. At the same time she was supervising Andy’s homework.

“No, Andy, remember – hold on, Mom – you have to carry the 1. Nikki, hold still or I’ll never get these even. No, Mom, I don’t think Dad should stop playing video games; they’re probably good for his reflexes.”

Will came into the kitchen from the backyard and picked up Nikki, whose braids were done and who was now asking for toast. He’d just started spreading peanut butter when Fiona looked up from Andy’s homework and said, “Oh, good, you’re making her breakfast. Thanks. By the way, I’ll be at the PTSO meeting tonight. Andy’s new principal is being introduced. Can you take care of baths?” Before Will could say anything more than, “Sure”, Fiona was already out of the kitchen and helping Andy get his homework stowed in his backpack.

 That night, after the kids were tucked in, the dog was walked, and the kitchen was cleaned up, Fiona and Will sank onto the couch. Once Fiona had sighed two exhausted sighs, she turned toward Will and said, “Dang, I just remembered – tomorrow after work I have to take Mom over to visit Aunt Jean. Can you pick up Nikki after school?”

“Sure.” Before he could say anything more, the phone rang. He heard Fiona say, “Hi, Sally. How are you feeling? Did they take the stitches out today?” At that point he picked up his Kindle and immersed himself in The Wise Man’s Fear. He knew from years of experience that once she got into friend-care mode, she’d be occupied for quite awhile.

On Friday night, Will came home to find Fiona in the kitchen, up to her elbows in flour. He smiled, walked over, put an arm around her waist and kissed her on her nose. “So what’s this all about?”

She smiled distractedly and kissed him back, “Tomorrow’s my Gourmet Club, remember? The good news is that the first two attempts at these Raspberry Squares came out delicious but wouldn’t hold together, so you get to eat those batches, albeit with a spoon.” She laughed, knowing that he loved raspberry anything.

Will was delighted about the raspberry squares but disappointed at the prospect of another evening of sharing Fiona.

He scooped up a failed square and took his spoon over to the sink. After a moment he turned back and said, “Hey, Fi, could we talk?”

It took Fiona a moment to refocus from her bowls to his voice. “What? Sure. You mean now?”

“Now would be good.” Will didn’t typically ask for her attention when she was in the middle of things. He didn’t sound mad, but he didn’t sound altogether happy either. She put down her spatula, wiped her hands on her towel, and walked over to him at the sink.

“What’s up, big guy?” She put her hand on his arm and looked up into his face.

“Fi, you are a great mom, a loving daughter, a fantastic friend.” Fiona smiled. “And you participate in the school and the community. You do so much for so many. And all these things are important and worthy things.” Fiona felt warmed by the affirmations but she could tell that there was a “but” lurking just out of sight.

“Fi, occasionally I’d like you to choose me. I don’t expect you to pay less attention to the children or your parents. And I understand that they often need to come first. They’re dependent and I’m not. I get that. But I feel like I never come first, like you never choose me as the most important person for that moment. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I want to feel sometimes like I’m the most important person to you, like you would choose me over everything else.”

Just then Andy called from the family room. “Mommy, come watch TV with me. It’s Scooby Doo!” Fiona was about to go to Andy when she realized that that was a perfect example of what Will was talking about. She yelled back to Andy, “Can’t come right now, kiddo; I’m talking to Daddy. We’ll watch together another time. There’s always another Scooby.”

She turned back to Will. “I’m sorry, Will. It’s like a reflex – the kids call me and I automatically go. I guess it’s the same sort of thing with my parents and my friends. I think maybe it’s become a habit to respond to them and assume that you’ll just take care of yourself.” She frowned. “That doesn’t seem very fair to you at all. And, you know, I don’t think it’s very fair to me either. I’m missing out on time shared just with you.”

She reached an arm around his waist, smiled at him, and kissed him. “I promise to choose you more. After all, you’re the one I chose to be with in the first place.”

Financial Infidelity

 

John and Mitzi had been married for 13 years. They had two children they adored, were active members of their congregation, and had been faithful to each other without exception since they’d first met. They were happy together and committed to each other and to their family.

There was however one serious and recurrent problem. John had on several occasions spent large amounts of money without Mitzi’s knowledge or consent.

From the very beginning they’d had an explicit agreement that if either one of them wanted to spend more than $250 it had to be discussed before committing to the expense.

Mitzi observed the limit faithfully, no matter what. It wouldn’t occur to her to violate their agreement, no matter what the situation.

John adhered to the agreement most of the time. He’d seen his own parents’ financial calamities caused by their fiscal irresponsibility. He felt reassured by his agreement with Mitzi, trusting consensus about spending to keep them out of serious money troubles.

Sometimes he found himself faced with a situation in which consensus would not work in his favor. The first time it had happened it had involved a motorcycle. His former fraternity brother, Mike, had gotten married and the new wife had nixed the bike. Mike offered it to John at a price that John just couldn’t resist, so he didn’t. It made a really ugly dent in their tiny little savings account. He couldn’t face telling Mitzi, so he didn’t. That plan quickly fell apart. He’d been storing it at a buddy’s place so Mitzi wouldn’t find out about it, but she caught him riding it after work one day. She couldn’t be persuaded that Mike throwing in both helmets at no extra cost made it a deal that would have been stupid to ignore. She was stunned that he’d spent more than a thousand dollars without discussing it with her first. He of course apologized and promised that it would never happen again.

This latest time it had been a boat. Again John had felt that it was a once in a lifetime deal and that it would be foolish to resist, so he didn’t. He couldn’t hide the boat, and he didn’t want to. He’d bought it for the family to enjoy together. But that had necessitated lying to cover up how he’d gotten the boat. When he took Mitzi to the dock to see it, he’d told her they were just keeping it for a friend. When she saw that money was missing from their account, he’d told her that the friend had changed his mind and had wanted to sell it after all but that he’d needed a decision on the spot. That lie fell apart when Mitzi realized that the money had been withdrawn from their account before the boat had ever arrived at their dock. John was out of wiggle room and copped to all of it. Mitzi, for her part, acknowledged that a boat was something they’d always dreamed of getting for the family.

Mitzi was however horrified at the dent in their savings this time. Their eldest had just been fitted for braces! But she was even more upset about the lying. She was pretty sure that they could recover financially, eventually, but she wasn’t as confident about their ability to rebuild trust.

Her sister tried to comfort her by reassuring her that at least it was a boat and not another woman. She was pleased of course that it wasn’t another woman. John hadn’t been unfaithful in the conventional sense. But it felt to Mitzi that he’d been unfaithful nonetheless. They’d made a financial vow to each other and she’d trusted that he’d be faithful to that vow, just as she was.

Mitzi found herself torn between loving John and not trusting him. Would the next secret big ticket expense cost them their mortgage payment? Would they be able to send their kids to college if John got seduced by more “irresistible” opportunities? Mitzi bounced back and forth between anger and anxiety, although she never lost sight of her love for John. She did want him, and them, to have special things; and she knew that sometimes she could be too thrifty.   

John bounced between guilt and defense of his “right” to spend money on things he thought were worth it. He did think that perhaps Mitzi was a bit too conservative about their finances. But then he also bounced into anxiety that his impulsive spending might send their family, like his parents, into irreparable debt.

When Mitzi finally was able to discuss this calmly with John, she sat down across from him and said, “Let’s talk.” To his credit, John was not only willing to talk, he was relieved that they were going to work this out together.

Affiliation vs. Autonomy

 

It is natural in human beings to experience the competing needs for both affiliation and autonomy. By affiliation we mean essentially connection to others. By autonomy we mean independent control. Most human beings want both affiliation and autonomy.

We are naturally social creatures. We aggregate, both for physical safety and for emotional sustenance.

Human beings also typically seek the freedom to make our own decisions. We want to feel that we are the only ones in control of us.

We generally want to be in relationships because we want the affiliation. Once in those relationships we often chafe at relinquishing any autonomy. Yet there’s no way to be in a relationship successfully without trading some autonomy for affiliation. Some independence must be sacrificed in service of interdependence.

There is a constant dance going on in relationships to balance autonomy and affiliation. We’re trying to achieve a sense of security in the connection without making us feel that we have given up our independent selves in order to accomplish it. It’s a complex dance that requires a constant shifting in order to satisfy both needs. In reality it often necessitates achieving these things sequentially rather than simultaneously.

  Take Mark and Marianne, for example. Marianne has been a determinedly independent person since she was born. Her first full sentence was, “I do it, me.” Although a warm and loving person, she leans toward autonomy. Mark was born a cuddler. His first word combination was, “Mommy hug.” He’s a highly self-sufficient guy, but his predisposition is for affiliation.

They have a very successful, long-standing marriage. Sometimes however their different personalities present them with a conflict.

Marianne is a photojournalist. Her work takes her all over and across the country. She loves the opportunities to go off by herself and wander through the world on her own. Whenever she gets a new assignment that will take her some place she’s never been she’s ecstatic.

Mark on the other hand experiences her enthusiasm with some pain. How can she be so happy to go away? Marianne always sings while she packs. Mark always feels a bit bereft when he sees the duffle come out of the closet. He experiences her travel as a fracture of the affiliation. Marianne experiences it as an expression and exercise of her autonomy. She has no wish to hurt his feelings. She simply needs to go be on her own for awhile.

When Marianne returns from her trips, she’s always eager to reconnect with Mark. She eagerly drops her duffle in the foyer and comes looking for Mark. She counts on being greeted with a warm and engulfing bear hug, which of course he’s only too happy to provide. He would like to keep that cuddle going for awhile, as he revels in her warmth and scent as he holds her close. But Marianne becomes restless. When she’s had her fill of his warmth and affection she’s ready to move on. She kisses him on the nose and wriggles free. He knows he can’t hold her and reluctantly releases her.

Later on the night of a return Marianne always makes a point of cuddling with Mark.  She initiates the closeness to demonstrate to him that she wants to connect with him, knowing that it feels good to him that she chooses to be with him. And in fact she enjoys their connectedness and misses it when she’s away.

Mark has learned too to value his alone time when she’s on the road. Although he misses Marianne when she’s traveling, he’s come to enjoy his chance to cook weird food concoctions that fill the house with odd smells and to listen to his favorite Indian music at a volume that Marianne finds noxious.

It’s taken them years of committed effort to arrive at a balance that for the most part works for them. They still have moments when her desire for autonomy collides with his wish for affiliation.  Sometimes the reverse occurs, and it happens that she comes home eager for connection just when he’s deeply engaged in a solitary activity that he got into because she was away so much.

They can still sometimes hurt or offend each other by being out of synch about affiliation and autonomy. He may need closeness at the very moment that she’s most craving separateness. It’s not always smooth; the dance doesn’t always go well.

But they’ve learned to trust that although they may sometimes have divergent needs or conflicting inclinations, they share an unwavering commitment to each other and to the marriage. Step by step, they work their way back to a balance.

Relationship Maps by Benna Z. Sherman ©

Safe at home

 

Lauren and Ken were sharing a couch, a bowl of popcorn, a bottle of beer, and a baseball game. It was their favorite springtime ritual. They both loved baseball, even when their team was in last place. Their optimism about the next inning, next game, or next year was infinite.

They had another ritual for each game—every time the umpire declared one of their team “safe” at home, they’d high-five. Other than the actual winning, it was probably their favorite baseball moment.

When Monday morning rolled around, Lauren would often hide under the covers when the alarm went off and whimper dramatically, “I wanna stay safe at home. Don’t make me go to work. It’s scary out there!”

Ken’s role was to wrap his arms around her and promise to be there at the end of the day. If it was threatening to be a particularly obnoxious day in Lauren’s office, he’d also promise to have popcorn waiting for her when she got home. Sometimes the roles were reversed and it would be Ken who’d whimper dramatically if he were facing an especially hard day. Then it was Lauren’s job to promise to be there with the popcorn.

The second half of the Monday ritual happened later. The first time they’d played this Monday morning script, Ken had surprised her when she’d gotten home. He greeted her at the front door wearing an umpire’s mask and said, as her foot touched the foyer floor and as he made the ump’s gesture, “Safe at home!” The day at work had been awful, but she couldn’t help smiling for the rest of the evening.

Not being possible or practical to fill their days only with baseball, they each inevitably also experienced more serious and stressful events. Ken got laid off from his job; Lauren’s co-worker got laid off and Lauren inherited her workload; Lauren’s mom got breast cancer; Ken’s dad got prostate cancer; Lauren got a flat tire on the beltway and waited for a scary two hours for her roadside service to arrive; Ken’s car blew a head gasket when he was on a business trip in Philadelphia. Sometimes life got exhausting and scary.

One day when Lauren returned from another long day at the hospital with her mom, she was greeted upon entering the house with the wonderful smell of fresh popcorn. Ken walked out of the kitchen and put an arm around her. He held her close and said, gently, “Safe at home”.

Today had been a particularly difficult day at the end of a particularly difficult week. Ken had just found out that his new company was being bought by a bigger company. The whole week had been a series of meetings where the old bosses apologized for the upcoming changes and the new bosses started doing job audits. Each day there would be a new schedule on the board announcing which employees were having their job audits that day. The tension level in the building had reached never before seen proportions. No one had received a pink slip yet, but it was clear that some of the current employees were about to become former employees. Ken’s audit hadn’t come ‘til Friday, meaning that he’d had the whole week to bite his fingernails down to nubbins.

He’d had his audit, been dismissed with a, “We’ll let you know sometime in the next two weeks about the disposition of your job description,” and been sent back to his desk. He’d tried to keep working, thinking that every task done or undone might influence their decision, but his brain just wouldn’t focus. He’d played out the work hours and left his desk with nothing accomplished that day.

When he got home, he smelled the familiar comforting smell of popcorn. Fortuitously, there was a game that night on TV. They took their proper positions on the couch, with the popcorn and the beer that Lauren had already set out. The familiar rhythms of the game eventually began to soothe him, especially Lauren’s presence next to him.

In an all too familiar way, their team was losing. Lauren was the first to begin their usual patter about, “just wait ‘til the next batter”, “… the next inning…”, and eventually, “…the next game”. Eventually it might well become, “… next season.” Lauren’s ever hopeful reactions to the baseball game started to penetrate his mood like a soothing balm.

He looked over at his wife and knew that whatever happened with his job, they’d deal with it together. She’d always be his cheering fan, even when he was losing. She’d always believe that the next “season” would be better.

When the umpire yelled, “Safe!”, Ken knew he was. 

Today vs. Forever

Even in the best relationships, every day is not a perfect meshing of two soulmates. In the early days of a romantic relationship-- when everything is shiny and new and biochemistry is colluding with our brains to emphasize the wonderful and ignore the imperfections—then it can seem like one soul has found its perfect match. From the standpoint of ensuring the survival of the species, this is a very good thing, for it makes it likely that a mating and reproduction will occur.

This very persuasive and seductive beginning also, unfortunately, sets a standard that is impossible to sustain. While the intensity of this initial pairing helps to increase the likelihood of mating, the failure to sustain this intensity makes some couples reconsider their initial judgment and can contribute to the premature termination of the relationship.

Let’s look at John and Mary’s relationship. They’ve been together now for thirteen years. On their first date they’d gone out for coffee, which had turned into dinner, which had been followed by two hours on the phone. They were engaged in six months, married a year later. Thirteen years later they’ve experienced a variety of joys, celebrations, misunderstandings, disappointments and hurt feelings. On the bad days they wonder if they chose wisely.

Today’s a typical day—John is taking Brittany to a soccer game first and then a birthday party. Mary is taking Luke to his soccer game, which is scheduled for the same time at a field across town, and then to his orthodontist appointment. They all expect to be home by dinner time.

By the time the kids are tucked in for the night, both John and Mary are exhausted. Mary, who had a fight with Luke at the orthodontist about his not wearing his rubber bands, is cranky and just wants a chance to settle in with her latest travel book. John has been waiting for hours to tell the tale of the outrageous events at the birthday party.

Just as Mary is slipping away to Venice, John plops down next to her and starts telling her about the party.

“Uh, John, I’m in the middle of something here,” and she waves the book at him.

“But you have to hear this; it’s hysterical,” and he pulls the book out of her hands and starts to tell her about the party.

“You did NOT just do that,” Mary says as she stands up and pulls the book back out of his hands. Her tone is icy as she says it and her anger is obvious as she stomps out of the room and goes upstairs.

John, stung by her rejection, mutters to her receding back, “You used to be fun, Mary. Now you’re a bitch.” Fortunately, Mary hears nothing of this. Unfortunately, that’s because she is also muttering as she stomps away. “Jerk. All I want is a few minutes of peace and quiet and you have to act like that. What is wrong with a grown man who demands attention like that?!”

As Mary disappears into the bedroom and closes the door behind her, she’s thinking, “How could I not have seen what an immature jerk he is? Why did I marry this guy?”

John, sitting in front of his computer and mindlessly surfing the ‘net, is thinking, “How could I not have seen this self-centeredness in her? I would never choose a woman who was so cold.”

Their independent grumblings are interrupted by the sounds of a child vomiting. When they get to Brittany it’s obvious that this is more than just too much birthday cake. Her face is flushed and they can tell she has a high fever. John trusts Mary’s judgment implicitly when she says to call the pediatrician immediately and relay Brittany’s symptoms. The pediatrician tells them to get Brittany to the hospital immediately because she suspects acute appendicitis.

John gets Brittany ready to travel while Mary packs an overnight bag for Brittany and calls Trudy next door to come stay with Luke. They move into action like a well-oiled machine. As Mary holds Brittany in the back seat, John drives them to the hospital in a torrential downpour. Trusting John more than anyone she knows behind the wheel in bad conditions, Mary concentrates on comforting Brittany.

As Mary and John sit together next to Brittany’s hospital bed, holding each other and watching her sleep comfortably post-op, they each independently think, “Yes, I married the right person.”

So, the principle is, you might not choose this person for today, but you might well choose them for forever. Don’t let one bad day, or even a whole lot of bad days, obscure what is good and real about your relationship. It’s not shiny and new; every day is not a perfect soul-mating. But in the big picture, is this the person you want next to you on the good days and the bad days?

Do you see what I see?

 

Lisa watched in puzzlement. Jack headed for the stairs. He was talking on his Bluetooth to his brother. It was a pleasant conversation from what she overheard. None of this was puzzling. What was confounding Lisa was how Jack maneuvered around the laundry basket sitting on the floor next to the stairs and then proceeded to walk up the stairs with empty hands. She then saw him come downstairs without his phone and again walk carefully around the laundry basket. Saying not a word, she watched him go back upstairs, again with empty hands, having navigated around the basket without any apparent thought to carry it upstairs. Lisa stared at the basket and wondered how he could see it well enough to avoid it but not register that he should carry it upstairs. It was particularly puzzling since the laundry in the basket was his.

As she saw Jack circle the basket for the third time, she said, in an even tone, “Jack, could you please take the laundry basket upstairs?”

Jack, looking around for the basket to which she was referring, spotted it inches from his feet and responded with, “Sure, babe. No problem.”

When he came back downstairs, Lisa needed to solve the riddle of the invisible laundry basket.

“So, Jack, about the laundry basket…”

“Yup, it’s upstairs.”

“No, I mean, how come you didn’t take it up the first two times you walked around it on your way upstairs?”

Jack frowned. “What are you talking about? Where was it?”

“Jack, it was right where you found it when I asked you to take it up. You knew it was there but you didn’t take it up until I asked you to.”

“I didn’t know it was there.”

“Jack, you walked around it TWICE without bumping into it. Obviously you had to know it was there. Otherwise you would have walked right into it.”

Jack was still frowning. “Lisa, I swear, I did not see a laundry basket. But what’s the big deal? I carried it up as soon as you asked me to.”

Jack was the most honest person Lisa knew. She had to believe that he truly hadn’t realized that the basket was there, even though his not colliding with it meant that his brain had seen it and registered it enough to avoid it. Could he see it AND not see it?

Now Jack was puzzled. “Why does this matter? You wanted the basket upstairs; I carried it upstairs.” He looked at her in hopes of seeing that this confusing conversation was over and that he wasn’t in trouble.

“Jack, having the basket upstairs wasn’t the most important thing.” Jack’s heart sank; this wasn’t going to be resolved so easily after all. And he hadn’t a clue what she was heading for.

“I wanted you to see the basket, recognize that it needed to go upstairs, and carry it upstairs, not because I asked you to but because you saw that something needed to be done and did it.”

“Lisa, what’s the difference? The basket ended up where you wanted it either way.”

“The difference, Jack, is that I don’t want to be the designated responsible adult who tells the non-responsible adult what to do. I want a partner who carries the responsibility equally.”

“Geez, Lisa, it’s just a laundry basket.”

“I know that. And you’re always very good about whatever I ask you to do. I appreciate that, Jack. But compliant is not the same as responsible. Remember in college, when you were in that house with five guys? Four of those guys, including you, shared responsibility evenly. But remember Scotty? He never took any independent action for the maintenance of that house. You used to complain that the rest of you at least noticed when the trash was overflowing onto the kitchen floor, but Scotty would just step around it. Remember?”

Jack thought back to that house. Most of the memories were fond ones, even of Scotty. But he also remembered that they’d finally called a house meeting to try to get Scotty to do his share.

Jack said, “But that was different. If we didn’t do it, it wouldn’t get done.” Lisa just sat there and waited for Jack to put the pieces together.

 “Oh. I get it,” he said. “You feel like I don’t take responsibility because I don’t have to. I can wait for you to notice what needs to be done. And that makes you feel like I’m not sharing responsibility evenly.” Again he frowned. “But, Lisa, I don’t feel like I’m doing that. I mean, I never made that choice in any conscious way.”

“I know, Jack. You wouldn’t intentionally choose something that wasn’t fair; that’s not your way.”

“So maybe it’s just a habit. And if it’s a habit, it can be changed, right?”

Jack drew an imaginary sword from its imaginary scabbard and pointed it at an imaginary enemy. “Watch out, laundry baskets and all evil tasks. Sir Jack will see you all!” Sir Jack was rewarded by a hug from Lady Lisa.

The Praise-to-Criticism Ratio

 

John Gottman is the marriage researcher who runs the “Love Lab”, part of The Gottman Relationship Institute. His research is based on direct observations of couples interacting. Those interactions are quantified and specific behaviors counted. In distinguishing those marriages that succeed from those that fail, he has found that one of the most important variables is the ratio of praise to criticism.

In successful marriages there are at least five instances of praise, or, more accurately, positive feedback, for a single instance of criticism.  

It’s human to react particularly strongly when something offends or hurts us. At that moment we are likely to express a critical or negative comment to our partners. It often takes more conscious intention to express when something has been experienced positively. It is only with an active commitment to pay attention to and give positive feedback for positive events that it’s likely to happen as reliably as the negative feedback, or criticism, that will easily follow negative events.

 

Miranda and Phil had been married for 15 years. During that time their marriage had weathered many challenges. Miranda’s layoff, Phil’s prostate cancer, their daughter’s meningitis, and their son’s back surgery were only the most significant bumps in their road. Phil had been the one who’d contributed most consistently to their staying on a positive path. He seemed to have a gift for noticing the positive. Miranda’s less naturally sunny disposition was quicker to find the negative.

Phil was a devoted gardener. He’d been working on his gardens and the lawn for 8 years now. He’d started with little more than weeds, mud, and rocks, with a smattering of grass and a few wildflowers. Over the years he’d created not only a hardy green lawn but eight separate very fertile beds for either flowers or vegetables. He’d committed early to manage his little half-acre purely organically. He used organic fertilizer and compost, but absolutely no pesticide or herbicide. His commitment was to nurture the desirable things in his yard and hope that they would eventually crowd out the undesirables (like crabgrass).

His lawn wouldn’t be mistaken for a golf course’s perfect turf. It was clearly imperfect, with a mix of hearty grasses, Dutch clover, and a lot of wild violet. Unlike when he’d started, the weeds were now far in the minority. When their part of the country experienced a particularly dry summer, his lawn came through with little loss. His plantings were resilient even in less than perfect conditions.

Phil’s attitude with people was pretty much the same. He noticed and nurtured the positive. He expected that over time the positive would naturally crowd out the negative.

Miranda had a harder time with accentuating the positive. She was naturally more attuned to the negative. She was also more naturally anxious than Phil. Her anxiety often led her to feel compelled to try to change every negative behavior she noticed. It was harder for her to trust that nurturing the positive would be good enough.

When Miranda helped Phil in the garden, it was her job to pull weeds in the beds. She was great at spotting the weeds nestled in among the flowers and vegetables. She had a much tougher time noticing what was beautiful, albeit imperfect, in the yard. Phil would often stop her weeding to direct her attention to something special that was right in front of her but that she’d overlooked in her zeal to purge the garden of every single weed.

When their son, Sean, was little, it was Phil who’d been quick to praise Sean for his initiative in learning to dress himself. Miranda would immediately notice that Sean had put his pants on backwards and his shoes on the wrong feet. Her first words were critical. Phil on the other hand would be the one praising Sean for doing it all himself.

Over the years, Miranda had observed repeatedly that Phil’s approach was more successful than hers. It hadn’t come easily to her, but she’d worked diligently to train herself to notice and comment on the positive. Her first efforts were directed at the children. She couldn’t help but notice that her positive feedback generated more successful results than the negative.

She’d spontaneously generalized that positive feedback to Phil. Over time she’d become much more likely to give him positive feedback than negative.

If you observed Phil and Miranda now and counted their feedback events, you’d find that their praise-to-criticism ratio held pretty consistently to the at-least-5-to-1 that a healthy relationship required. Phil still tended to be significantly above the minimum; and Miranda rarely bested the minimum and occasionally didn’t achieve it. But overall they had a pretty consistently adequate score. The durability of their marriage, even in the face of some pretty severe challenges, was testament to the importance of positive over negative feedback.

The Honored Guest initiative

Cindy and Will were excited to be having their friends over for lunch. At five and six years old, this was a special treat. Mommy was even allowing them to use the good china.

Ellen was hoping to use their enthusiasm as a gateway into teaching them proper behavior for dealing with guests. She reviewed the basics about “please” and “thank you” and “excuse me”, of course. Then she moved onto more complex and subtle concepts, like considering your guests’ wishes, anticipating their needs, making a point of saying positive and kind things.

“I get it, Mommy. It’s like telling Madison that I like her hair ribbons today.”

“Good job, Cindy. What about you, Will?”

Will, at five, was still working on the concept. “Mommy, Stevie doesn’t wear ribbons. That would be stoooopid.” 

Ellen smiled. “No, Stevie won’t be wearing ribbons. But what’s one way that you think might make him feel comfortable or happy to be your guest?”

Will considered. “I know! When we have snack at school, Mrs. West always makes sure there are no peanuts at the table, ‘cuz Stevie’s ‘lergic to peanuts. I could check the table for peanuts and tell Stevie that it’s safe.” He looked up at his mom for confirmation. Ellen smiled.

“That’s perfect, Will. That will let Stevie feel comfortable and he’ll know that his needs were considered.”

The fancy luncheon (macaroni and cheese, but on fine china) went well, and both Madison and Stevie seemed to enjoy the visit. Ellen did a reinforcing debriefing with Cindy and Will after their guests had left. She praised them both for their courtesy and kindness toward their respective guests. In fact she was delighted to see how well they’d both treated their visitors.  She told them, “You two were excellent hosts and excellent friends.  You treated Madison and Stevie as honored guests. I’m very proud of you both.” The idea of treating friends as honored guests seemed to be such a grown-up concept that Will and Cindy too felt very proud of themselves.

That night Ellen was telling Max all about her parenting “triumph” of the day. Max was delighted to hear the story and smiled, saying, “Wow, sounds like you did a great job, and that so did they. I think I’d like to be their ‘honored guest’ sometime.”

After Max had gone into the family room to read with the kids, Ellen sat over a cup of tea and thought about what he’d said. She was sure that he hadn’t meant a dig at her by his last comment, but she couldn’t help thinking about the idea of treating her own husband as an “honored guest” in his own home.  She wondered to herself, when was the last time that she’d treated her husband as well as she’d treat any guest in her home?

That night, when Max had settled down with the newspaper after the kids were in bed, Ellen, who was passing his chair on her way to the couch and the novel that she’d left there, asked him, “Max, can I get you anything before I settle down?”

Max, not used to the offer, looked up, surprised, and smiled at her.  “No, thanks, I’m good.” Later, after she’d showered, she laid out clean towels and a fresh washcloth for Max at the side of the shower. Finding them there, Max yelled into the bedroom, “Hey, Ellen, thanks for the towels.” After his shower, he sat down on the side of the bed and said, “So what’s this all about, Babe? You trying to soften me up for some bad news?” His expression was quizzical rather than anxious.

Ellen smiled at him affectionately. She put a hand on his arm and said, “No, no bad news. It’s just that teaching the kids about how to treat guests made me realize that we take each other for granted so much of the time. We’re often quicker to treat other people with kindness and consideration rather than each other. It doesn’t seem right. You’re the most important person in the world to me, and I think I slip into treating any guest in this house better than I treat you, at least sometimes.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I am honored to be your guest. And I’m touched by your kindness. I will work at being as good a ‘host’ to you.”

As Ellen snuggled down under the quilt, she smiled.  This “honored guest” thing had real potential, she thought. She expected that it would take practice; but she was hopeful that she and Max would both over time simply be nicer to each other as a routine.

Time for connecting

Micah was amused. When he walked into the family room, what he saw was Sara’s butt up in the air and her head under the couch. Although her voice was muffled, he could just make out that she was asking Ruby, their four year old, if she was sure that this was where her ballet slippers were.

When he looked around for Ruby, he found her pouring her breakfast cereal. She had again pulled over a kitchen chair in order to climb up to the counter. Since the chair was on wheels, Micah made a mad dash into the kitchen to prevent a nasty turn of events.

When Sara surfaced, holding Ruby’s ballet slippers as well as Luke’s spelling homework, she went to check on whether Luke, their seven year old, had gotten dressed for school.

A few minutes later, Micah headed off to wait with Luke at the school bus stop while Sara drove off to drop Ruby at pre-school.

The next time Micah saw Sara, she was walking out the door to take Luke to basketball practice. He took Ruby into the kitchen and made her dinner.

That evening, when both kids had had their baths, brushed their teeth, and had their bedtime stories, Sara sat down at her desk to pay bills while Micah went to his computer to continue researching replacing the siding on their 25 year old house.

They both surfaced at about 10 p.m. and headed for the stairs.

Micah slipped his arm around Sara’s waist and whispered in her ear, “Hi there, stranger.” Sara smiled and leaned into him.

As they climbed the stairs this way, Sara said with a sigh, “I know you were just being cute, but sometimes I feel like we are strangers. We wrangle kids, we manage the house, but when was the last time we talked to each other about anything else?”

Micah sighed in response. “I agree. I distinctly remember when we used to spend hours on end just talking to each other, about everything and nothing. I miss that.” And he gave her a squeeze. She hugged back and kissed his neck. “Remember when you first told me that your dream was to become a published author?” He smiled. “And you told me that you’d always dreamed of becoming a ballerina?”

They smiled affectionately at each other. He said, “I really miss those talks.” She said, “But we don’t have those hours on end anymore.”

He frowned, “No, we don’t, but we could probably find an hour sometime during the week. When the kids aren’t present, we’re always so quick to use the time for other things—cleaning, work we’ve brought home, paying bills or home improvement research. All useful things, of course. Couldn’t we make a commitment to use some of that time for just us?”

She looked surprised. “You mean just sit down, the two of us, and talk, the way we used to?” She chewed at her lip for a moment, the way she always did when considering a new idea. She looked up at him. “This is going to take practice, you know. We’ve become so efficient and responsible. It feels pretty radical to just sit and talk to each other when there’s work to be done.” She smiled up at him a little shyly. “What would we talk about? We’re so out of practice.”

“Well, I don’t think our dreams would be quite the same as they were when we were first out of college. But we still have them. Or it could be as simple as talking about what was good about today, or scary or exciting about tomorrow; that kind of thing. What do you think?” He looked up at her hopefully.

He looked so excited at the idea of talking with her that it just warmed her heart. The idea of sharing thoughts with another adult, one that she loved and respected, and who knew her better than anyone—wow, she was getting pretty excited herself.

Always the practical one, she started mentally scanning their family calendar. “I’ve got it!” He looked up at her expectantly. “When the kids are in Sunday school, we could have an hour and a half all to ourselves!” She frowned. “But how are we going to keep from getting sucked into everything that needs doing around here?”

He thought for a moment and then said, triumphantly, “We won’t be here!” She looked at him, puzzled. “We’ll go out for brunch while they’re in school. We used to do that every Sunday morning, remember? Ah, Belgian waffles; yummm.” She smiled at the memory.

She held out her hand and said, “Deal.” He took her hand and pulled her into a hug. “Deal.” They sealed the commitment with a kiss.