As I alluded to in my last post my husband I took communication classes last year. One of the first things I learned is that when you're in crisis mode, it doesn't help to cover it up with pleasant nothings. In fact, it's easier even when you're not in fight mode to implement this tip. It's called "Get Real." If getting real means picking your friends more closely, letting go of toxic relationships, or desperately clinging to your penchant for Princess Diana puffy shirts because that just makes you royally happy, then so be it.
So, let's get real right now by starting with the title of the seminars Rex and I attended through our cheap-butt HMO. Communication classes? Sounds good. But you know what? You could call it "Marital Support" "Couples Counseling" or even "Camp I Could Kill My Spouse", but underneath all the flowery linguistics are two words that describe perfectly what we went to for six weeks: GROUP THERAPY.
I titled this blog "Group Sex" because it's a surefire way to get everyone's attention and there was a lot of talk about sex. Some of the top complaints from men were that they didn't get enough sex. Some said their wives had let themselves go and they weren't attracted to them any longer. Some of them admitted to having porn addictions, or cheating, or never liking sex with their wives from Day 1.
Now ladies, if you've read that and immediately thought, "Those men are pigs!" our fearless group leaders might have told you that's not totally fair. They most likely would have added that we tell our spouses that we want their opinions, but then we get mad at them for giving us answers we don't want to hear. Now should we allow our husbands to call us bad names? Of course not. But how are we ever going to know the truth and decide whether we want to fix it (or not) if we don't ask the question? And how are our spouses to ever feel that their opinions matter if we don't give them the opportunity to voice it? The key is to voice those opinions with grace - something that might be hard to do in the middle of wanting to throw your mate's laptop in the neighbor's pool. I mean, how dumb would that be anyway? Computers are so expensive to replace. And in our case, the neighbor's pool isn't filled, so there's little chance that my mechanical husband could piece all the shattered parts back together anyway.
Here's what the ladies in the class had to say about sex. They were frustrated that their husbands didn't support them enough in their daily routines. Why would they want to sleep with them? When one poor soul asked about his wife's constant use of the term "sex" instead of "making love", she told him she'd have to feel love for him to say the word, let alone do it. There were also insecurities about their bodies post children, or due to aging, or just plain old weight gain. The most common thread was that they were just too tired from being poked and prodded all day long. They didn't want to be poked and prodded at night also.
As far as Rex and I go, we weren't there to complain about sex. Our biggest beef was that our ways of unwinding are pretty different. He likes quiet retreat. Nature. Scheduled activities. As for me, if I came home to a huge lit up ferris wheel on my front lawn, dancing girls in my garage, and my office painted pink with shabby chic chandeliers and Mothers Animal Cookies in vintage tins, I'd pretty much consider my life's longings fulfilled. We were desperate to stop butting heads. How could we find the peace and support in marriage that we so craved? And no, finding another spouse wasn't an option.
We both learned so much from these classes that I can't possibly write it all down in one blog, so this will be one in a series of 3.
NOTE: If you're bored now, stop reading for a week and come on back when the regular scheduled programming appears. But for now, let me tell you that Group Therapy was the best thing we ever did. First and foremost, it showed me how much my husband really does love me. He is reserved by nature, so for him to sit in a circle with 10 other couples was nothing short of a miracle. But really, it wasn't divine intervention. It was love. He did it just because he knew it was important to me.
The old me would have overlooked these great intentions due to his body language. When he doesn't want to do something social, he gets this cross armed, big sighed resignation about him. I'd have screamed, "Why can't you be happy about it? After all, I do stuff for you all the time!" But the new me, after listening more than talking (that in itself a miracle) began to realize that love isn't only about getting what you want. It's about accepting it from your partner who is giving it to you the best way that they can.
For Rex, the act of showing up for me was enormous. When I took the pressure off of him about how I wanted him to show up... when I just allowed him to attend in his own quiet way... enormous change took place. He started to laugh at himself. He started talking - a lot! He found that it wasn't so bad hearing from other couples. Whether the couples were BMW driving yuppies or blue collar plumbers, all had the same goal in mind: To reconnect with their spouse.
We also learned that, after listening to what others were going through, our issues weren't so bad. We learned it the very first day, in fact, right after our fearless leaders suggested we come up with a plan for our marriage. It meant all of us had to break into small groups and decide together what needed the most work. For some, this took almost the whole class, and a lot of heated fighting and support from the leaders. For us, it took a few moments only. When it was our turn to announce to the group what we needed to do, Rex spoke up for us: "We need to spend time together just talking. Even if it's just an hour a week."
A few people, after telling us about their drug addicted spouses, or their divides over pregnancy, or how their explosive tempers were collapsing their marriage, looked at us with disbelief. "That's it?" one of them said. Rex and I looked at each other incredulously. "Umm... yeah." Of course there was more issues, but the the truth hit us like a ton of bricks: Most of our complaints could be solved with a little acceptance of each others' different personalities and time together - at least once a week without the kids.
In a million years we didn't think Group Therapy with dinner afterwards would be the perfect date night, but I never thought I'd be writing a blog about sex. What's that quote? "If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans?" I'm pretty sure He's got a belly ache after dealing with me. And thanks to group therapy, Rex and I are laughing a lot more these days, too, thanks to our weekly dinners. In fact, gotta finish this post because tonight's the night we dine with wine - not whine. Our kidless date! It's not group therapy. We're perfect and don't need it anymore . We're having a great run and are keeping our issues more private.
Except for this blog. Which sometimes talks about our privates. And broadcasts to the world. And has been syndicated on Yahoo recently. Keeping it quiet except for the whole world wide web thingy.
Posted by Andrea Frazer
Related links from Good Housekeeping:
* Romantic Blouses
* Get the Haircut You Want
* Easy Ways to Organize Photos
* Procrastinating -- Right Now!
* For More Tips & Tricks You Can Count On: Subscribe to Good Housekeeping & Save!
Reprinted with Permission of Hearst Communications, Inc.
