Last night, while trying to insert reading into my day my husband teased me by intently trying to annoy me. I quickly asked him to stop but he playfully provoked me into having a fight. And I asked, do you really want to fight? Few minutes after I asked what they want for breakfast the next day and he answered, pancakes-short and sure answer. Pancakes it will be. After a short while he moved over to his table to continue his work and so I grabbed some muesli, put some raisins in and poured a glass of milk all over. I don’t know why I was hungry hours after dinner but maybe because me and Kyrzten danced to our favorite moves from Sensazao Crew. Anyways, I sat at a chair looking over at what my husband has been doing. He’s working on something, and I kind of do not understand it, really. While I sat there in silence, munching my cereals; looking at him working, I remembered our conversation earlier that evening.
Couple of years ago, me and my husband argues a lot. We always had a big fight over decisions, changes and marital obligations. The fight grew intense when the first baby arrived. We were not adjusting well and I’d say we struggled to be good partners more than good parents. We almost separated and I really thought we’d go that direction. After we moved back from Bohol, I noticed something happened to us. We were kinder to each other and slowly regained the trust we once had. I also noticed the changes in me, I cannot fathom them but definitely I noticed I stopped complicating things and making a drama over my life. I still have episodes of sadness sometimes but then I did not want another person to suffer from it.
Expectations. My disappointments and frustrations were from my ideas of what my married life should be. I had expectations of marriage, of motherhood, of my career and my life. I also had expectations of what my husband should be and of the career that he should choose. I had expectations of his success and so I looked at him and I see weakness and failure. I tried so hard to want what I pictured things should be that I forced my husband to be somebody else. Now that I kind of accepted he is who he is that the fighting stopped. He is far from perfect and so do I. He is still annoying and we still annoy each other. But we are partners and we will hold hands because we are in this together.
Expectations kill love and tenderness. And I want to love him tenderly.