There’s a movie called About Time. It has Rachel McAdams (a superb actor) and Domhnall Gleeson (also superb). It has been a blessing of a movie to my family. Not that we let Mr. Buttons view it, but he has been indirectly blessed.
Things are slowly improving. My husband and I are revisiting old issues. God is introducing me to wonderful tools. Pride is dying its death stubbornly.
I’m not stupid. And I won’t apologize for having feelings or for noticing the sullen pouting, the stiff pride, and the dissembling that is used against me. What’s the point in being married if we cannot be friends? Why would any man take a wife is she is to be treated as the enemy? An enemy appliance expected to perform duties sans emotion, passively, lifelessly, and pounded when her buttons are worn out.
Where on earth is all this shoddy family programming coming from?
Well, the last week has been pleasant. Yard work, playing with the kid, reading the parts of Hermia and Theseus out loud at the table. Pretty good stuff. And the riddle of passive aggression everywhere, people who feed on your guilt, who excel at subterfuge and lying, and who have no idea what it means to feel and be vulnerable and empathetic. More a riddle than a trial lately, maybe.