Last night, even though I was at work and my wife was home with the kids, we still managed to annoy each other through email. (The topic was the appropriateness of an email I had sent to a mutual friend.) When I got home, we quickly found something else to disagree about. (The topic was whether New York Family quoted too many rabbis and not enough religious leaders of other backgrounds in our Hurricane Sandy-related story on “Five Questions Every Parent Should Be Asking“). “If you’re going to instantly disagree with everything I have to say,” Rebecca huffed with frustration, “I’m not going to say anything.” I responded with a smile and another disagreement.
If I could pass off one piece of advice to my children about building good relationships, it would probably be this: When you have your disagreements, make sure the other person feels heard and respected, and try to respond to them in a positive way (even if it’s to agree to disagree). This is an ideal, of course. In practice, my record is uneven; I’m a little too quick to anger, though ultimately I always try to meet my wife at least part of the way. And the reason, ironically, is just what she implied: You don’t want to instinctively feel like talking to your mate is going to be a frustrating experience.
So, yeah, if we were being observed by the marriage police last might, they might have chastised me for smiling when my partner was awash in annoyance, but I guess that after almost 15 years of navigating marriage’s hot spots with Rebecca, I knew that we were having a moment, and not a crisis.
“No you’re not,” I said, with the hint of laughter.
“No I’m not what?” she said, peeved, confused, intrigued.
“No you’re not going to not say anything. That’s one thing that’s not going to happen.”
For a moment, she actually was speechless. This was not the direction she had expected me to go in, but I was kind of lucky I did, because she, too, began to sheepishly laugh at the unlikely prospect of her not saying anything when she has something to say.
Of course, my point had almost nothing to do with whatever it was we were disagreeing about, but it was, in its way, a respectful point to make, that she was strong enough to always speak her mind; and at least we shared (I think) a tacit admission that ours is a marriage where people get heard and respected and loved, if not always agreed with.
One final note to self: When you’re married to someone who cares enough about you to voluntarily read the stories in your magazine, perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick to disagree with her.
Eric Messinger is Editor of New York Family. He can be reached at [email protected]
