Relationship Dynamics: Part Deux

On the heels of last week’s post (Relationship Dynamics) I thought I’d follow up by sharing a couple examples in my own life of struggling to navigate and find the balance among the emotional currents discussed (individuality/autonomy and connection/togetherness). I hope these examples demonstrate just how pervasively these emotional currents impact our lives. And yes, it’s ok to have a little fun at my expense here!

Example 1: One of the earliest times in my marriage that I found myself swimming the emotional and relational rapids occurred just as my wife and I returned from our honeymoon. It was early January, cold, and I had a bronchial cough just developing but otherwise felt fine. In checking the weather I became aware of another big snowstorm settling in that night (somewhere around 12’’ of snow… big for where I live) with temperatures down in the 10’s. As one who has a love for outdoor sports, and winter outdoor excursions in particular, I felt an immediate internal struggle. My former self (single, before marriage) took every such opportunity to climb up Snake Mountain (where the snow wind loads, yielding twice the amount of snow) for a winter alpine camping experience. Often I did this with friends, and occasionally would go alone with a bivysack when no one else was available.

And I now felt that tension… this opportunity (for an alpine experience on Snake Mountain) became all wrapped up with that drive for individuality/autonomy within me, which felt like it was being lost in my new marital commitments. It felt as though my very identity would be lost if I didn’t go, if I didn’t take this step to preserve this central aspect of myself. And so I did (leaving behind a confused yet gracious wife). Around 6pm that evening I called my friend Jeremy and made plans to head up Snake Mountain. By about 8pm we were heading out, psyched by the snowstorm and the adventure to ensue. During the approximate 3 hour climb up Snake Mountain in nearly waste deep snow I wrestled with my decision, feeling irresponsible, feeling like a jerk, feeling selfish… but in small doses as the climb itself, among strong winds and near zero temperatures required my attention.  All in all (with the drive and adventurous alpine climb to the top) it was 1am before Jeremy and I were settling down in our sleeping bags within the tent. And here, it really set in.

I lay there in my sleeping bag, exhausted but unable to sleep. And my mind kept mulling over my decision, and how to reconcile it with my new commitments as a husband. That drive for connection/togetherness wouldn’t be quiet. “You’ve only been back from your honeymoon for 2 days! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” And that drive for individuality/autonomy prompted a response… “but freedom, adventure, this is who I am… it’s what I do.” Followed by connection/togetherness, “That’s childish, you’re a husband now. Figure it out. Your priorities need to change.”  

After what felt like hours (it was probably only about 10 minutes), I spoke. “Jeremy” I said. “Yeah” was the reply. “I’ve got to go back” I said. “Ok” he replied. And that was it, no more words spoken. We were up, tearing down everything we’d just set up and packing it back in our packs (*As an aside, this is an amazing friend. He knew the struggle I was having and just walked through it with me). So we made our way back down the mountain and drove home. And upon returning home I got back into bed with my wife at about 4am. She barely stirred, but I was finally able to sleep with a sound conscience.

Example 2: About four years after the above example I was in graduate school and my wife and I had not yet found a way to balance the drives for individuality/autonomy and connection/togetherness, particularly when it came to overnight adventure trips. I had planned a few such trips over the previous couple of years, all of which were canceled last minute due to distresses, tensions, and challenges that arose. My bids for individuality/autonomy (by way of these overnight adventure trips) seemed at odds with my wife’s needs (drive) for connection/togetherness within the relationship… and no wonder (We had moved to a brand new place and I was working upwards of 60 hours a week in graduate school)! Our opportunities for experiencing connection/togetherness were already in short supply, so as I pursued something for myself (an adventure outing) anxiety regarding our connection/togetherness was raised within the relationship.

When that anxiety goes up, all kinds of weird things start happening. Doubt starts asking “what if” questions like…

• What if something happens?
• What if this is the last time I see her/him?
• What if she/he is doing something else in my absence?
• What if I need her/him for some reason?
• What if someone breaks in while I’m gone/ he’s gone?

Well, then doubt’s cousin (fear) comes along and starts suggesting answers to those questions… and the answers that fear suggest are always your worst nightmares come to life. Just as though encountering a boggart from Harry Potter, one finds the self immediately confronted with the reality of his/her greatest fears! These are the emotional rapids of the relationship, requiring real skill to maneuver! But neither my wife or I had the skill for those rapids yet, and thus I ended up canceling my trips time and again in order to quell the anxieties (along with the doubts and fears) they produced.

Still though, that drive for individuality/autonomy persisted (and was getting frustrated), so I was now ready to try again. I planned a 3 day/ 2 night trip attacking the Triple Crown Loop in Virginia (Tinker Cliffs, McAfee’s Knob, and the Dragons tooth). My wife was confronting her boggart quite successfully and even had plans in my absence to keep herself occupied. I was excited, yet still struggling with my boggart. I packed everything up and was ready to go… it was about 6pm when my wife drove me to the drop off point along the Appalachian Trail. As I got out of the car a hiker came off the trail looking for a ride to the nearest gas station (about 7 miles away on back roads). There were no other options (ours was the only car there, and it was getting dark).

As I said, there were no other options. My wife was not going to drive away with this guy in the car (who’d been drinking whiskey to keep warm along the trail) all by herself! So I put my pack back in the car and we drove him to the gas station. But by the time we’d dropped the hiker off the sun was set (both literally and figuratively). I was emotionally tired! The hiker had somehow sent me over the connection/togetherness edge, and I now even felt protective (after he was gone… I know, it’s all nonsense). So getting back on the road again I said something about being tired and wanting to just go home. My wife was surprised (but I think secretly happy), and we drove home and had a good dinner that night.

And now here I am 9 years after the fact…though I’ve been to McAfee’s knob and the Dragon’s tooth many times, I still haven’t completed the Triple Crown!

*Accompanying music for this post is “Boots of Spanish Leather” by Bob Dylan. Give this song a listen by scrolling up and looking at the top right hand side of the page.

Bob Dylan, Boots of Spanish Leather, The Times They Are A-Changin’