You Don't Like Me

Through the tears, I formed the words “you don’t like me…” I had spiraled into an anxious state, thinking about how he had mentioned his attraction to her face and their conversations. I compared myself to her. She’s beautiful, bubbly, glowing, happy and probably showered him with praise. Meanwhile I’ve been struggling with depression and could barely manage a smile for him on any given day. He raised his voice and said something that didn’t even shock me, because I’d heard it once before —something I often visited in my mind— “Yes, sometimes I don’t like you.” 

I already knew it. I already believed it. But I didn’t know how to change the narrative. I ran upstairs and sobbed. I knew I wasn’t the woman I wanted to be, the wife I wanted to be. But I also felt so burdened with pain. How would I ever overcome this? I hadn’t been ready to confront the truth in the past. I only knew how to cast blame when I felt so hurt. But was I ready now? To really take a look at myself and wonder why my husband was searching for emotional connection elsewhere while I had felt deprived of it for so long.

During this very lonely, painful storm, I encountered a miracle. Instead of dancing to the familiar rhythm of hopelessness and victim mentality which left me seeing my husband as both the reason for and the only solution to my pain, I decided to be vulnerable but with —what I later learned was— a pure motivation rather than the kind that is really just thinly veiled accusations. When I was ready, I approached him with a very raw truth, “I’m in pain, my heart hurts.” And to my surprise he drew near to me (not forced or obliged) for the first time in a very long time, scooping me up with such a heart-felt embrace that broke down every single wall we had put up. In that moment I released all the bitterness and resentment I didn’t even know I still carried from earlier storms, and I chose faith over fear. I continued to (in a very imperfect way) show up in my vulnerability without blame or accusation, and healing began to take place, emotional safety was being built, for the first time in our marriage.

I now know this was a display of PURE vulnerability, a crucial skill to cultivating connection in your marriage, or any relationship.