Sometimes the stories we create are very different from the stories someone else is living.
I’m in his heart. Photo courtesy Fred Miller
A bond like marriage often comes with expectations. I know mine certainly did. Looking back, I can see there were many expectations I never spoke out loud because I assumed they were obvious. It never occurred to me that Mike might have a completely different understanding of the same situation.
One of the biggest disappointments in our marriage centered around communication.
The Stories We Tell Ourselves
Mike would leave the house saying, “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
To me, that meant he might be gone an hour or two, depending on where he was going. To Mike, “a little bit” could easily turn into the rest of the day. Every time it happened, I found myself watching the clock, growing more frustrated with each passing minute. By the time he walked back through the door, the heat of my emotions had been building for hours.
Our conversations rarely started well after that.
If I’m honest, my best self wasn’t showing up during those arguments. Neither was the version of me that listened with curiosity or asked questions before making assumptions. Instead, frustration, resentment, and defensiveness usually took over.
Looking back, I can see that at the core of those disagreements wasn’t simply the amount of time Mike was gone. The real issue was that our communication styles were completely different, and neither one of us knew how to clarify our expectations. He would come home and say he’d lost track of time. I can’t honestly say that’s never happened to me. The difference was that I was usually home with two young children, waiting for help, wondering what we were going to have for dinner, and hoping I’d have a little time for myself before the day was over.
The Lasagna I Never Expected
Zandy photo by J Bar D Studio
One evening stands out more than any other.
I’d been looking forward to going horseback riding. Anyone who’s tried to concentrate on riding while keeping track of two small children knows those things don’t go together very well. When Mike finally got home, I walked out the door absolutely livid. I hadn’t made a plan for dinner. I hadn’t said much of anything. All I knew was that I was finally going riding.
When I was finished riding, I imagined coming home to a husband who was waiting for me to get a plan for dinner and so we could continue the argument we’d paused when I left.
Instead, I walked into the kitchen and found Mike sliding a homemade lasagna into the oven.
He had taken the kids to the grocery store, picked up everything he needed, and made dinner.
That wasn’t the ending I’d expected.
What I Didn’t See
After Mike died, I spent a lot of time reflecting on our marriage. One realization continues to stay with me: I didn’t give him enough credit for the things he quietly did. I spent so much energy focusing on what I believed was missing that I often overlooked what was right in front of me.
Another memory comes to mind whenever I think about how differently we communicated. Mike once asked me to do a task. I did exactly what he asked. Later, he wanted to know why I hadn’t completed what he considered the obvious next step.
I looked at him and said, “Because you didn’t ask me to.”
In my mind, I had completed the assignment. In his mind, I had stopped halfway through.
Finally, with more than a little exasperation, he asked, “Do I need to draw you a picture?”
Without missing a beat, I answered, “Yes.”
It sounds funny now. At the time, neither of us was laughing.
What I understand today is that Mike expected me to read between the lines. I tended to take his words literally. Neither approach was wrong. They were simply different.
Choosing Which Part of Us Responds
When we understand our own communication style and begin recognizing how other people communicate, so many misunderstandings begin to dissolve. We stop assuming someone intended to disappoint us. We become more willing to ask questions instead of filling in the blanks ourselves.
I’ve also learned that understanding ourselves may be even more important. We all have different parts of ourselves that step forward in different situations. Some protect us. Some defend us. Some react before we’ve had time to think.
If I could go back, I’d invite the listener to show up more often than the defender. I’d choose curiosity over certainty. I’d ask one more question before assuming I knew the whole story.
Those lessons are part of what inspired me to create Discover the Kaleidoscope Within: Having the Courage to Connect with Every Part of You. This six-week Gestalt-based virtual PlayShop is an opportunity to become acquainted with the many parts of yourself, understand why they show up, and intentionally choose which one you want leading your life. I call it a PlayShop because meaningful growth can happen with curiosity, creativity, and even a little fun.
Where Greater Connection Begins
If you’ve ever found yourself reacting to the story you created instead of the one that was actually unfolding, you’re not alone.
I’d love to explore that with you.
If you’re curious about working together, click the button below to schedule a complimentary Zoom conversation. There’s no obligation—just an opportunity to discover whether this next step feels right for you.
Every story needs a soundtrack.
This is the one I’ve chosen for this post—sometimes because of the title, sometimes the lyrics, sometimes simply the feeling it stirs in me.
