I am a very sensitive person. I don’t remember always being this way. Recently, as in the past five years or so, I’ve been able to blame it on pregnancy, nursing or birth control. But I think everyone knows that those things are only magnifying the way I really feel. Which sometimes ends up with me being hurt.
Michael, bless him for being married to me, will say something and I will automatically turn it into him meaning something hurtful and we end up having a conversation that is a dance we know in our sleep.
If he cleans the house, I’m upset that I am not doing enough on my own to keep the house clean. If he doesn’t clean the house, I am upset because I have to do EVERYTHING! Crazy, right? He sure thinks so sometimes.
Michael learned long ago to just be honest. I made a meal early in our marriage that he didn’t particularly like, but to save my feelings, he said it was very good. In my head, that means he loves it and I’m going to make it once a week to make him happy. This lasted for a couple of months before he told me that he really didn’t love it like I thought, but he’s grateful that I made it for him.
So now I just tell him to give it to me straight. If he doesn’t like it, just tell me. It will save me the embarrassment of making it multiple times and watching him force it down. It is a little bit of a hit to my pride to hear that he doesn’t like it, but he more than compensates by showering me with compliments on all the things he does like that I make. It’s a good deal we have going on here. An honest one.
That’s what I love about my kids. They are straight-shooters. They tell it like it is. Even when the truth hurts.
The other day Mikey patted my stomach and said that it looked like I was going to have a baby. Not soon, like right before I had Ty, but like when Ty was just little in my stomach. Ouch. That hurt. Mostly because it wasn’t the first time he’d said it in the past weeks.
But as the initial sting wore off, I realized something. They mean every word they say with every ounce their mind and heart can put into it.
They don’t filter to make people happy or mad. They just say what they are thinking.
So when Mikey looks at me and says that I am pretty like Rapunzel and he loves me more than the world, that is pretty great.
For every hurtful truth I get to hear at least fifty truths that make me feel ten feet tall.
I love you has never meant more.