spouses

Tit for tat – short for this for that. A fair exchange. Quid pro quo, Latin for something for something. A favor for a favor.

How do we feel about that inside of relationships?

I’ve always hated it, because it involves keeping score.
And while some people are brilliant at it, running a metal tally sheet – I suck at keeping score.

I remember being blindsided inside of relationships by brilliant score keepers who insisted that I had fallen behind in the favor department. Apparently not enough tits for all their tats.

“You drive! I’ve driven us around the last three weekends, do you realize how expensive gas is?”

“We always see the movies YOU want to see. Have I told you lately how much I hate science fiction? You OWE me!”

“It seems like it has been all about Janet lately, when is it ever going to be about me?” Ouch.

Some even got sexual depending on the fight. Actual tits for tat. Others were about family, garbage take-out, even food.
WTF?

All of those declarations caught me off guard. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we were keeping score.”
I was sure that when I had signed the agreement after reading the very thick dating manual, that I must have missed the fact that everything was subject to become a line item on a debit sheet, and furthermore, I myself, had neglected to keep score.

DOH!

“You have me at a dis-advantage” I tried to plead my case, sure that I could come up with some outstanding infractions on their part – but I couldn’t – I just thought we were being a couple, doing nice things for each other – not making deals.

Someone told me this story the other day, about going to their therapist loaded down with resentment toward their spouse.
Eventually, after several months of couple’s therapy with her husband, the therapist confronted her and said: “You think you are giving gifts. But you are making deals.”

She was struck dumb. What?????
“A deal is when there is a mutual agreement, an expectation. A gift is given.”

She admitted that their therapist gave her a gift that has lasted a lifetime.

My husband tried ONCE to keep score, reminding me of something he did that he felt wasn’t “repaid”.
“We don’t tit for tat in this relationship,” I snapped, trying not to yell. “Speak up in the moment if you don’t like something, don’t keep score, it isn’t fair unless we both agree to do that – which I will NEVER agree to. Do something nice because you want to, because you love me, or don’t do it at all, and for Godsakes, don’t hold it against me! Some days I will be selfish, some days I’ll be freaking Mother Theresa, some days a warrior, other days needy, don’t take score – deal with it!” Okay, maybe I was yelling.

You see it’s been my experience that on occasion, relationships can feel lopsided. No one promised us equality. That word wasn’t in my vows.
But it’s also been proven to me that the scales do even out…eventually.

It may take a while, but the weekends alone with all the kids, the late nights at the hospital, the hard talks about money, and the times you agreed to sex when you were too tired to think, the Thanksgivings spent with horrible Bonnie and crazy Uncle Ned, summers at the Cape being eaten by mosquitos, early morning carpool, working two jobs to keep things afloat, numerous bad choices, mistakes and failures – they all come back around.

So don’t be so quick to keep score.

Give your love with no expectations – open-hearted, as a gift, and you know what? It will come back to you ten-fold. I promise.

Carry on,
xox

BRAT
noun.
a child, especially an annoying, spoiled, or impolite child (usually used in contempt or irritation).

Today I had a brat attack. It is only second in its savagery to a terrorist attack.
It’s like a five-year old terrorist has taken over my emotions, behavior and mouth.
Then I blew up; all. over. my. husband.

Do you ever do that? No, I’m sure I’m the only one…..

My brat inspired tantrum, albeit short, was ugly.
I wanted to stomp my feet, throw myself on the floor and pull at my hair……but I was driving…..and talking on the phone. My five-year old annoying, impolite child, said stupid stuff using a five-year old’s limited language. When she inhabits me to that degree, there’s no reasoning with me. Have you ever tried to reason with a pissed off five-year old?

Have you ever said stuff like that? No…..I’m sure you haven’t.

Anyway…
I’m inclined to blame it on the “energy”, or solar flares, but I think the sun’s been pretty quiet. I suppose I have to take responsibility.
I have no excuse except frustration at a situation and my own bad behavior in handling it.

Do you do that? No? Hmmmmmmm………guess it’s just me…..

My inner brat doesn’t rear her wild haired little head too often in my life. I do try to embrace her ( like a human straightjacket ) when she does and I’d never want her to go away for good. She lets me know when I’ve exceeded my limit. When things have gone too far.
She is the barometer of how high my stress, shame or frustration level has gotten.
When she howls; I listen. If I resort to her terrorist tactics…..there’s a problem. Either it’s something real and I’m too tired or cranky to deal.
Or, my perception has been hijacked by my ego, and I need to just get over myself.
Then other times; she’s just plain being a bitch.

Can you relate? No? Really??

I texted my husband a mea culpa as soon as I parked. Then I laughed at the absurdity of the attack.
He’s met my brat; she doesn’t scare him. Once, when they scuffled, he threatened to call my mother and rat her out.
Today’s visit was short-lived and I got the message.

Note to self: Don’t save important things until the last-minute and learn to accept help, otherwise it’s a set up for frustration. And don’t nosedive and dial.
The call was unnecessary and self indulgent………oh, that’s so her.

You ever nosedive and dial? Don’t lie. Tell me about your last brat attack!

Xox