A few days before Mother's Day, I asked my husband to watch a new romantic comedy with me.
I framed the activity loosely as Mother's Day related - "Hey, it's almost Mother's Day, will you watch this with me?"
Although he's not against rom coms, he has a pretty strong preference for those made in the 1990s over present day (Can't Hardly Wait and Clueless would have inspired a peppier response from him).
About 10 minutes in, he had many complaints. He was not buying the chemistry, he proclaimed the male lead somehow both too old and too young, and he did not vibe with the humor.
"I'm not into it," he declared.
And then he got up, walked to the kitchen which is directly adjacent to our living room where we were watching the movie, and BEGAN CUTTING AND COOKING AN ACORN SQUASH.
Friends, I felt fury.
I had not originally really thought of this movie night as a formal "Mother's Day gift." But it instantly became clear that watching together actually was my gift and now it had been cruelly taken from me.
To sharpen the sting, the love of my life was now loudly whacking away at squash. I couldn't hear the music, an integral part of of the film. I couldn't hear the jokes. Rage rage, fury fury, indignation indignation, rushed in a potent cocktail through my veins.
But a thought interrupted my rage.
"Hmm. I think he doesn’t know that I really want him to watch this with me," my mind offered. "My husband is not generally a jerk. I don't think he would purposefully ruin this experience for me. I know he wants me to have a lovely Mother's Day, and I bet if he actually understood that I had decided this was a legit Mother's Day gift, he would sit down and have a decent attitude."
Another thought chimed in. "But he SHOULD have known!"
I considered that option. Although the idea of making an accusation was satisfying, I didn't foresee a lot of positive outcomes with that approach. Okay, here we go...
“Yo, I wanted to watch this with you and now you’re clanging around in the kitchen, and I feel sad” I said (out loud this time). Maybe not a very elegant attempt, but not hostile.
"Wait, what?" he responded (we were having an eloquent night).
As I suspected, he had not tracked that this was important. He quickly wrapped up his food prep and came back, offering to keep watching.
Despite his willingness, I still felt sulky. I knew if I said yes to watching more I would just surveil him the whole time, analyzing whether he was actually putting effort into enjoying it with me. That didn't sound like fun for anyone.
So instead, we watched an episode of Schitt's Creek and went to bed.
Here's a confession.
I still haven't finished the movie. I want to watch it together, not alone. And yes, we could do that. We could watch it tonight. But I know that he would be doing it "just for me" and not necessarily enjoying himself, and that would bother me.
But...none of this is his responsibility. I am not in charge of what films my husband enjoys. He doesn't owe me fake laughs or false enthusiasm. Now he's aware it's something I feel strongly about, he would be pleasant and engaged while watching.
But I don't want that.
I want a version of reality that doesn't exist. I want a version of my husband that doesn't exist. I want to turn back time and watch The Idea of You with identically rapt delight.
And I can want these things. It's perfectly okay for me to feel a little longing for an imaginary world where my partner shares my niche interest.
But it's not perfectly okay to project that desire onto him as a deficit. It's not acceptable to act out resentment when he's more than willing to watch a movie with me because he can't deliver the "avid fan" joy that I apparently require in my viewing partner.
I might ask that we finish it in a month. Or I might watch it alone, accepting the trade off. I might never finish it.
No matter what I choose, I circle back to the task of emotional adulthood. To carrying my own emotions - whether they're a bit petty and dramatic or tender and subtle. To holding onto what is mine, even when it might feel good for a moment to play hot potato with feelings I would rather not have.
Two Takeaways:
- Tune into multiple ways to see a situation. Decide which one will serve you. Yes, I could have accused my husband of purposefully ruining my cinematic experience because he doesn't care about Mother's Day...but that would have got me all kinds of nowhere. It's okay not to express every thought your brain throws at you.
- One of the best gifts you can grant yourself is learning how to work through tricky relational moments on your own. Not because repair from your partner isn't important - it is! You need repair! But my husband's repair didn't wash my stung feelings away. This is normal. Learning to process the dangling threads within yourself after a conflict is key.
Real life romance is a bit more complicated than a rom com, but it can still be pretty beautiful.
😘
Dr. Marina