Why I Chose to GIVE UP Fighting for My Rights


I can't tell you how hard it was to find a picture depicting surrender!
Darn you, American database.

Fighting Does Not Equal "Time Together" 


 My husband and I can go weeks...maybe even months without having a fight. I don't know if that is normal or not, but I'm keeping in mind that we have no kids or house yet.  

 But when we do fight, we will have a sort of "fight-week" where we just keep getting hurt. We'll nit-pick, take a break and go our separate ways, then come back, apologize. Then the next day, something will happen at work maybe and the mood will be tense again. Then the next day, he or I will say something the wrong way and frustration mixed with exhaustion from a tense week will break us down again.

 By the time the weekend comes (or the second weekend), we MISS each other. That soft, sweet person who is so easy to love hasn't been around (I include myself in that description) and it's like we haven't seen each other in a while. Plans with friends are cancelled, a call for pizza for a night in is made, and we snuggle in to watch a movie, enjoying the first glimpses of peace we've had in a while. 

 I don't know why we do this. And even more frightening are the times when we won't have a lot of time to chat, make up, get comfortable around each other again so that not every glance MUST have had a secondary meaning. Those times when kids are scrambling around your heels, the phone is ringing, and overtime from home is calling your name. How do parents do it? 

 I've been working on how to attain JOY recently. Not heaven...joy. One of the "steps" is to let go of this constant struggle to "fight for your rights" for the sake of just being happy. Yes, that person shouldn't have cussed at me after stepping on my foot, but it's not worth getting pissed all day about. I'm not going to hinge my happiness on what I deserve. 

 So my husband was trying to help prepare me for an interview and wanted to role play. I wanted him to just tell me what to say should X, Y, or Z be asked of me. He refused and I felt fire in my chest and went to our room to slam the door. To give you an accurate picture, my shoes hang on a rack behind the door, so when I went to slam it, all my heels fell to the floor. I got into bed for the night and immediately realized, nope, it's not worth it. I will choose to overlook the fact that he's not helping me in the way that I want and I will focus on the truth that I'm super nervous about the interview, and he does have a lot more experience than me at the ways of the corporate world. 

 And just like that, the fire was gone. Two minutes. That's all it took. I'm sure he thought I was manic. I went out (stepping over my fallen heels), apologized, and told him I really would appreciate his advice. 

 Ah, humility. You're so worth it.

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