Sunday, July 17, 2005

Sometimes, Marriage Ain’t All It’s Cracked Up To Be

I guess you only know how to act or not to act from experiences with your own parents. My parents always slept in separate bedrooms and had distinctly different lives going on. Both my parents were fiercely independent up until the time my mother got sick. They loved each other but they also kept a healthy distance. I only knew how spouses should act from watching them.

When I first got married to Rachel, it was total culture shock. Rachel’s father was completely pussy whipped by my mother-in-law. He waited on her hand and foot and complied with her every wish. My mother-in-law wore the balls in that household. I always felt sorry for the guy and would wish he would just run away or something. One time he did pack his bags and carried them with him to work every day with the intent of leaving. He would always come back home that evening with that bag in hand looking defeated.

Rachel thought I should act like her father. Of course this all didn’t start until after our honeymoon. I rebelled vehemently and this caused many screaming and arguing matches in the early parts of our marriage. She expected me to go to bed every night at a certain time. That was one of the biggest sources of contention that I remember. I enjoyed staying up late as I could be a night owl in those days. I liked to work on my hobby of Model Railroading after a tough day at work. I relished the time after the TV had been turned off for the day and all was quiet. The more she insisted that I conform to her wishes the more I rebelled. I told myself I wasn’t going to have some woman telling me when to go to bed. I was a grown man, God damn it!

“Why can’t you just go get in the bed and go to sleep?” I would ask. “I am not making any noise and keeping you up.”

“I can’t sleep without you in the bed with me,” She would reply.

“Rachel, this is my quiet time,” I would say. “This is time I want for myself. I spend every waking hour with you when I am not at work. Can’t I just have one or two hours by myself?”

“Fine, be alone then!” She would scream and go running out of the room to cry on the bed until she fell asleep.

Later in the marriage I learned to just give in and go to bed. I was finally broken. I left many projects on my hobby desk unfinished. I would lay in the bed as my wife snored watching the ceiling fan spin round and round for what seemed like hours. Eventually I would go to sleep with emotions of anger and resentment smoldering in my thoughts.

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