What do you do when you wake up in the morning and realize nothing has changed?
Nothing will change until YOU do something. When your needs have not been met, will not be met, and no change will occur on anyone else’s part, what do you do?
I’ve reached the conclusion if I want something different it will come from me. I’ve talked until I’m blue in the face, cried until purple and went silent and inside myself until I was so isolated I needed counseling.
My partner is amazing. He’s a great human. A wonderful father, an amazing provider, and a good person. But he’s also emotionally unavailable.
Let me clarify that statement. He’s not as emotionally available as I would like—no—as I need. And he’s made it clear he is not willing to do anything differently.
Am I being selfish expecting a tad bit of compromise? I’ve stated more than once that I’m not asking him to meet me half way—not even an eighth of the way. But simply to try some things with me that, honestly, are just for me. To make me happier in our relationship.
In turn, I ask what I can do better and his answer has always been, “You’re good. I’m fine.”
My brain is tired of translating. I know if I can find the right way to say things, he hears me. But I get tired of doing the work of translating. I’m emotional in general and I hate—HATE—that when I’m mad I cry and stop talking altogether. I’m not trying to be juvenile. I feel that my tears are a mute button on any words leaving my mouth so I just shut down.
Whether he hears my frustration frequently doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, in his words, “We all do what we want to do anyways.” That statement may be true for him, but it isn’t true for me. Since he said that I have made a greater effort to do things that make me happy, occasionally at the cost of our time together, but I am trying to fill my cup.
We’ve been together all of our adult lives. We’ve grown up together. High school sweethearts neck deep in raising a large family. We’ve had our ups and downs. That is part of life and I fully embrace both extremes because in the middle lies that sweet, calm normal spot of happy.
Is this state a part of the ebb and flow of raising a family, ever-changing, and busy? Will this too, pass?
Sometimes I wonder if our time with only one another is the source of my angst and stagnation. I don’t know any different. Is the grass greener? I’ve never been on the other side of the fence. What about our family? OUR life. Am I ready to shake it all to the core and change things? What if this is what happy looks like and I’m just looking for the fairy tale that doesn’t exist?
I don’t need much to make me happy. My children are an immense source of contentment—and chaos—but as long as they’re happy…I’m good? Do they see my resentment? Do they sense my unsettled attitude?
What do you do when you aren’t sure your situation fits anymore?
When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.
This post was submitted anonymously by a brave #RealityMom.