9. My Ex: the importance of knowing how you feel and articulating what you need

Some lessons grow in unwanted spaces.  Some lessons grow out of great negativity and regret. Sometimes we learn lessons from what we did wrong.

Mawwage.  That bwessed awangement.  That dweam within a dweam.  Successful or failed, we learn more than we ever wanted to know about ourselves in marriage.  Mine was in jeopardy from year one.  After a failed attempt or two at some requisite marriage counseling, we finally found one counselor who changed everything. The most memorable thing he ever said to us, he said in our first session: "I've never known two people with as much of an inability to communicate with one another as you two." (gasp)  What?!  I talk more than anyone I know - what do you mean I'm not communicating?!  Well, it turns out that not all communication is successful communication.  Who knew.  My form of "communicating" with my husband was passive-aggressive, sarcastic, non-verbal, loaded.  I discovered that when I was feeling hurt, I had no ability to accurately articulate what I needed.  This was in fact because I was unable even to identify how I felt. I could react, but I lacked the ability to express my reactions in a consumable way.  Instead, I attacked, sniped, shut down.  It got me nowhere.  I had no idea he couldn't read my mind.  How dare he...  As it turned out, he was in exactly the same boat.  Two people with this precise inability to express their feelings and needs in a relationship?  Recipe for disaster.

Growing in this area has been an uphill journey.  I don't claim to have mastered it, even a little bit, but I'm getting better.  In my next relationship, I worked so hard - sort of hard-to-believe hard - at broaching a subject without bringing all of that along.  I would run it in my mind, over and again, and like a writer crumpling up sheet after sheet of writing paper with false starts, I would clear the slate and start again. How can I say this without sounding like that person who makes things fail?  How can I do this without sarcasm and finger-pointing?  How can it be different this time?  When I'd finally find the right combination of message, words, and tone, I would do a little victory dance.  In my head.  It still hasn't become easy, but it's definitely moving in that direction.

I don't pretend to think that if I had mastered this art of not-loaded communication, my marriage would have been saved.  No chance.  But things would have been really different and way less painful. And less drawn out. And less blame-filled.  I can't have too many regrets because <insert cliched adage here:> the experience and its inherent failures, and the lessons gleaned, made me the person I am today.  And I'm pretty happy with that person, who now appreciates - among other things - the value of understanding how she feels and being able to articulate what she needs.