Love Letter, Vol 1
Dear Hun,
Things have not been easy between us lately. After 22+ years, it shouldn’t be surprising for there to be some bumps in our road. We’ve both changed. Evolved as individuals, as parents, as partners.
Perhaps I have evolved more.
That sounds very egotistical, I know. But I’m coming at it from a purely objective perspective (or as objective as a biologically subjective and self-aware organism can ever be). I’ve been diligent about doing the work: therapy, reading, learning, building new skills, navigating mental illness challenges. Those things change a person in ways that can’t be understood or replicated by other experiences.
We’re in the same place in our external lives, but different places in our hearts and minds.
I have been letting that gap consume me. Erode our connection. And for that, I am sorry.
I cannot make you anyone different than who you are, nor can you make me anyone different than who I am. I can’t rearrange your path so you can learn the same things I’ve learned over these past few years. Those lessons have to come on their own. We’re not in control of their shape or their timing, so I can’t fault you for not having found their wisdom yet.
What I can do, though, is take everything I’ve learned and use it to be more open to our differences, rather than to close against them. I can do better at being accepting, loving, present. I can do better at not letting the little things get to me, like when you forget to push your chair in after you get up from the dinner table. I can remember that those little things have nothing at all to do with me. They’re not affronts to my wish for things to be tidy. They’re simply things that aren’t as important to you. And that should be OK.
As we re-learn how to communicate, and how to recognize and support each other (as best we can, from where we are), I am going to try to be more aware of where I am imposing my own needs on you. That doesn’t mean I won’t speak up, or tell you when you’re not meeting me halfway. It also doesn’t mean that I’m going to abandon myself, or bend in submissive ways to make things between us easier. I know who I am well enough now to (mostly) love and respect her. I won’t ask her to change for other people. She only needs to change for herself, and only when or how it feels right. But it does mean that I am going to try to honor who you are, too, and soften into you, rather than trying to push against you. I don’t know if you’ll be there to catch me if I soften. If your walls will still be up. But I have to be OK with that, either way.
That’s the lesson I’m going to practice right now. I’m not really sure how well I’ll do—I learned Algebra when I was 12, but couldn’t solve a formula for my life at almost 40. Some lessons are harder than others to absorb.
My wish for you, dear, is that you soften to some of these new lessons, too. The ones coming from our therapist. The ones coming from our kids. The ones coming from me. They won’t be spelled out in a textbook (or reddit thread), and they won’t have sequential steps to follow. They’ll be more like Rubiks Cubes, with little broken pops of color that you have to turn over and over in your mind in order to make the pattern whole.
I hope you unlock whatever patterns are stuck inside you. I hope you start noticing and being present for more of the important things in life. Including me. Including our kids. Including yourself.
As I write this, I know that I love you. And I know that you love me. We’ll just have to see where the journey goes from here.
xoxo