See if I care!
I’ve always been the rule enforcer. The goody-two-shoes that tattled on everyone. The one that nobody wanted to invite to parties because I would ruin all the “fun.” I lost many friends because I didn’t like what they were doing.
And I married a gay man.
And I expected him to play by all the rules.
Yes, I’m controlling and manipulative and insecure and whiny and needy. But how much am I allowed to be bothered by his behavior? He is a good man trying to live a good life. He is trying to find ways to not implode. I get that.
Why should it matter what he is doing as long as he is earnestly working toward keeping our marriage intact? Why do I feel it necessary to judge his efforts? Why do I jump on any tiny little indiscretion and use it as “proof” that he isn’t trying? That I let it disqalify every good thing he has done?
I care. A lot. Probably too much. I let it eat at me. I let it fester and rot inside until I want to implode. And then I take it out on him. I’m pissed. I’m hurt. And I want him to hurt like I do. I concoct all sorts of nutsy ideas as to how I’m going to give him pain.
But then the little voice inside becomes bigger and speaks reason to my soul and I stop. Is this how I heal? Is this process going to get shorter and shorter the more I allow that “little voice” to grow?
I’m still not happy about a few things. I still don’t want to accept some behaviors. I still don’t think I should accept some behaviors. How hard do I push? Do I push at all? Would it serve me better to concentrate my efforts on NOT caring so much?
Let the little voice grow.