marriage

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Now That My Wife is Back from Europe…

For the week and a half my wife Jill was in Europe with our son Jack for his school trip, not a day went by that I wasn’t asked by mulitiple people, “How are you suriviving without Jill this week?!”

In fact, this morning at church I had no less than half a dozen people immediately say to me, “I bet you’re happy to have Jill back!”…

As if it were just common knowledge that she clearly runs the “business store front” for our family, while I confindently manage the “party in the back”…

Here is what I learned: When my wife is here, I am naturally an enforcer of keeping everything tidy and orderly. You might even say I am passionate about reinforcing her careful eye for detail and beauty in our home. After all, I am the one who immediately directs everyone to take off their shoes the moment they walk in.

Yeah, well… after it just being a few days into her departure, the floors of our home quickly evolved into an obstacle course of laundry, shopping bags, and not to mention, our daughter’s scooter.

Meanwhile, the kitchen counter was fully occupied by all the food and dishes I use daily because, “Why put it away if I’m just going to get it out again tomorrow?”

If we needed to come up with a theme for those 10 days or so, I think it would be prettty obvious:

“When the cat’s away, the mice come out to play.”

My wife had banned kimchi in our house, as its aroma tends to be in direct contradiction of the farmhouse theme we have going on. In other words, it smells like raw garbage… as opposed to the apple cider scented candle that serves as the default scent for our home.

But while she was out of town, the smell that escaped from our open fridge door was enough to kill flowers… because the kimchi (briefly) returned!

At our wedding reception back in 2008, as part of my dad’s Best Man speech, I remember him specifically saying how before Jill, I was never one to jump up and start doing the dishes; but how clearly I had changed for the better with her in the picture. She had brought out a new side of me he had never seen before.

And that holds true. Since we both work from home, I make it my mission to attempt to do the dishes throughout the day, and I can’t allow myself to go to bed if there are any dirty dishes in the sink.

Now I know, once Jill is gone for a few days, I resort to my old ways!

Let’s just say that the morning we left for Atlanta to go pick her and our son up from the airport once they got back from Europe, the way our daughter Holly and I franticially yet efficiently got the house back in order was basically like a 1980s sitcom where they speed up the camera as the characters scurry to clean up the mess. Then, once everything is back to normal, they immediately fall onto the couch, in complete exhaustion.

I also think of the classic line by Jack Nicholson’s character in the movie “As Good as It Gets” when he says to Helen Hunt’s character, “You make me want to be a better man.”

Yeah, I definitely see truth in that. But in my case, I would have to add, “As long as you don’t leave for Europe for a week and a half.”

 

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Facebook Version: 18 Years Wedding Anniversary

I had just turned 18 years old when I graduated high school in May of 1999. I felt like an adult, because… I officially was. I felt “old enough” for my life to truly begin.

So today on my 18th wedding anniversary, I think, “Wow- I have been sharing my life everyday with the same person for as many years as I was alive when I graduated high school.”

In other words, today our marriage is officially an adult.

That’s funny… because I still barely feel, or act, like an adult myself! (I’m 45.)

Naturally, when people learn it’s your wedding anniversary, the common response is, “Oh, congratulations! That’s a big milestone.” Sometimes it is followed with a playful follow-up: “So what’s your secret?”

Well… I think I’ve got it figured out- from the husband’s point of view:

“Happy life… happy wife.”

Notice I didn’t say, “Happy wife, happy life.”

No, my secret is the opposite: “Happy life, happy wife.”

In other words, a man who is able to build and maintain his life in a way that he creates his own happiness through his own ambition and passion and curiosity, instead of putting that expectation on his wife (Example: “You complete me.”), is a man who provides the environment for his wife to therefore be happy. And perhaps even more important than being “happy”, she will feel safe and secure; as well as entertained and engaged.

A man’s life is not happy because he focuses on making his wife happy.

Instead, a man’s wife is happy because he focuses on making his own life happy; with her by his side, along for the adventure.

Now that I think of it… I’m basically the equivalent of a cruise ship director.

I would love to think of myself as the captain of the cruise ship, in this metaphor. But if I see life itself as a cruise, then I am not in control of where that ship is going- only God is.

The role of a cruise ship director, according to AI when I Google it, tells me that I am the senior ship officer responsible for all onboard entertainment, hospitality, and social programing: the public face of the ship.

Core responsibilities include event management, communication, leadership, and customer service: “acting as an information hub… ensuring a welcoming, lively atmosphere.”

Yep, that’s me. That’s what I do and who I am.

Happy life, happy wife!

That’s the secret, if you ask me.

 

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“Happy Wife, Happy Life” is Garbage

This past Saturday as we were checking into Mountain Escape Spa near Chattanooga, where my wife got a facial while I got a deep tissue Swedish massage, the owner congratulated us on it being our 17th wedding anniversary. She then smiled and asked us, “Wow, 17 years… What’s your secret?”

My wife and I just laughed and looked at each other confused, apparently both feeling unqualified to answer that question. I responded, “Well, I guess it depends on who you ask!”

A few hours later, after our spa treatment and after a fancy steak dinner at The Creag at McLemore Resort, we drove to Mentone Market for dessert before picking up our kids at my parents’ house.

We further discussed the question proposed by the owner of the spa, in regards to what’s our secret of being married 17 years.

“Patience?” was my wife’s answer. She’s right. Over the years, we have largely evolved into much different, yet more mature versions of ourselves; compared to when we first got married.

It has been vital that we have given each other time and space to discover who we are constantly evolving into- and to choose to move forward together while learning each other’s personal growth- in real time.

As for me, my answer to the question of “What’s your secret?” is more exclusive to being the husband. My secret is, “I just take all the advice I was given by other men right before I got married… and do the complete opposite!”

The immediate example of “bad advice” that comes to mind is how husbands have been collectively taught by modern culture to shrug their shoulders and hesitantly say to each other, “Happy wife, happy life…”.

We continue to hear it from other men who have been married longer than we have. We see it on all of those house hunter shows. We can even order t-shirts off of Amazon that say it.

It rhymes, so clearly it must be true. (For the record, nothing really rhymes with “husband”. I Googled it, just to be sure.)

But “happy wife, happy life” is garbage. There, I said it.

And my wife agrees with me on this.

Here is why I openly and passionately disagree with this motto.

It puts the pressure, expectations, and responsibility on the wife; while assuming the husband is doing the right thing by just going with the flow. Specifically, it means the husband puts the wife in a consistent leadership position over him from the start.

This only causes resentment for both parties.

By the husband focusing on “avoiding conflict”, it ironically promotes greater conflict; by drying up a sense of emotional connection in the dynamics of the wife and husband; creating a dangerous state of complacency.

There needs to be a healthy amount of tension in order for things to be interesting in the relationship. Otherwise, the marriage is not a partnership. Instead, it becomes a one-way street: It is imbalanced, as the husband unknowingly places his wife on a pedestal; which by default, puts her in a position to look down on him.

I now see the reality of being married in a much clearer light: A husband can’t make his wife happy by basing the health of their relationship on her being happy.

The wife needs her husband’s authentic input. She needs him to engage by providing his perspective and opinion; even at the risk of it completely opposing hers. And that is not only healthy, but it is necessary.

I wish I knew this 17 years ago. Instead, like most men who are about to get married, “happy wife, happy life” was the advice that was presented to me.

No, I’m not claiming to be any kind of marriage expert. I definitely am not claiming to have the answers.

But I am able to confidently make this call:

“Happy wife, happy life” is officially cancelled.

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I Love You So Much That It Hurts

I can’t speak for most men, but there are certain emotions I really only feel thanks to my relationship with my wife and my kids.

Time is constantly passing and the future is never guaranteed. There’s both joy and sadness in watching my kids grow up a little bit more each day. There’s both joy and sadness in knowing I love my wife to the point I made a pact to grow old together with her, yet one of us is undeniably going to outlive the other.

Life is a gift and time is all we have. I love my wife and my kids so much that it hurts.

But… aside from these thoughts, my brain is not wired to think outside of a certain operating system.

Something I have learned this year after jokingly making my New Year’s Resolution to “be more vulnerable and connected to my emotions”, is that as a man, I mainly only operate using a few select emotions:

Joy, passion, creativity, assertiveness, and “chill”.

Accordingly, my subconscious directs me away from expressing or even feeling any of the vulnerable emotions like shame, fear and anxiety. Otherwise, I would take it as a personal attack that I am “associating myself with weakness”.

This year I had to come to terms with the fact that my personality is much more intense than most people’s. But after enough family members, friends, and coworkers all were describing me the same way, I began to accept that the way I operate is not necessarily the norm.

It has only been the past couple of months I have allowed myself to be “vulnerable” enough to embrace that I am the Challenger; known as Enneagram 8.

Or in Myers-Briggs, an ESTP.

Yes, I’m friendly. But I’m not a “nice guy”.

Yes, I’m a very social person. But I have strong personal boundaries.

No, I do not want to carpool with you. I want to leave when I want to leave.

No, we’re not going to split the check. I’m going to tell the waiter up front that these are on separate checks.

And while I do care to a certain extent that people like me, I am acutely aware that if everyone likes me, it’s probably a sign that I am doing something wrong- because I live by the fact that “you can’t make everyone happy”.

That’s what it’s like inside my head. Therefore, I am naturally surrounded by people who depend on me to be that strong personality for them.

To be clear, I don’t necessarily want to be in charge. Officially, I never hold that title. Instead, people often treat me like I am… so, I am.

Basically, I’m the official “no” guy. When others need a decision to be made, I’m the one who makes it okay to say no. I’ll make the call for them if they need me to.

In my experience, the person who says no typically is the person with the power. And if that’s me, I’m okay with it.

I now understand that I am fundamentally driven by the desire to have a sense of power and control- in other words, to never put myself in a vulnerable situation. To be “untouchable” and above reproach.

So while I myself may not have the capacity to easily access and feel certain emotions on my own, I am tethered to people I love who are able to show me what those emotions look like.

I am able to feel these vulnerable emotions, perhaps vicariously. In a way, my love for my wife and my children help me to experience life from more of a full “human” perspective.

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Who is an Example of a “Healthy” Enneagram 8? Me, Actually.

Continued from yesterday’s cliffhanger here…

As I explained earlier, I discovered I live with an interesting condition where I subconsciously avoid feeling any of the “vulnerable emotions”, like sadness, fear, and embarrassment.

Something in particular that I don’t fear? I don’t fear being wrong. Because if I did… boy, would I feel silly right now. Or would I? Since I don’t seem to ever “feel” embarrassed… even if I should.

It is no secret I am certified in Enneagram. It is no secret I have published a book about men understanding themselves better through Enneagram, which anyone can easily purchase on Amazon.

And it is also no secret that I have publicly identified as an Enneagram 9 Wing 8.

But after my (joke of a) New Year’s Resolution to “be more vulnerable and more in touch with my emotions”, only to discover I am largely driven by the emotions of joy and anger and that it is my instinct to resist any association of being vulnerable…

It’s all there, black and white, clear as crystal… on the website for The Enneagram Institute:

“Eights typically have problems with their tempers and with allowing themselves to be vulnerable.”

If you’re familiar with the 9 different Enneagram personalities, then you know that Enneagram 8 has a certain reputation of being… well, an “eight-hole”.

Or if you’re looking for a more church-friendly term, we could say “bull headed”, “bossy”, or “control freak”.

Enneagram 8 is the Challenger, the Boss, and the Protector.

The plot twist: I subconsciously attempted to be any Enneagram number except the one that I actually was, because I fundamentally didn’t want to be associated with having a “challenging” personality.

I am not Enneagram 9 Wing 8. I am the inverse: Enneagram 8 Wing 9.

(Nine was such a likeable number, though. The Peacemaker? Oh well, I tried.)

I have been asked several times about how a person’s Enneagram number might be affected by the environment they are raised in: nature vs. nurture. I would say I am an interesting example of how nurture can heavily influence nature, as it relates to Enneagram.

If you have ever been around my parents, you know that they are mild-mannered. They identify as introverts. I was the first born child in the family. I carried with me this idea from childhood- even now I can still hear my mom’s voice from the early 1980’s: “You’re Mommy’s good little boy.”

I maintained this simple idea as part of my identity throughout my teenage years, college years, and adulthood: to be a good boy… and eventually a good man.

While I certainly consider myself to be “good”, as well as friendly and personable, I would never want to be known as a “nice guy”. Because the way my brain works, nice equals weak.

On the inside, I have always been driven by this strong sense of recognizing when something was wrong and being motivated to get involved to correct it and make it right.

This means, at times, being uncomfortably direct or confrontational; in other words, initiating conflict instead of avoiding it.

I think the “nurture” side of me has always been strong enough to redirect my energy, causing me to be a more tamed version of a typical Enneagram 8.

(As a reference, on the “not so tame” end of the Enneagram 8 spectrum, we find Fidel Castro, Saddam Hussein, and Benito Mussolini.)

The “nurture side” of my upbringing led to my dominant wing being a 9 (seeking harmony and peace) and my subtype being “social”; which is the countertype of an Enneagram 8. I am the specific variation of an Enneagram that can resemble an Enneagram 9, or even an Enneagram 2.

Another clue to me actually being an Enneagram 8 is when I go into “stress mode”. What tends to trigger this is when I am in a room where I feel I have no control-  or when I feel I have taken too much control of the room and I realize it:

I shut down. I go silent. I leave the room. I disappear.

In this way, I resemble an Enneagram 5, the most socially reserved.

But since rebooting my life with my family here in Alabama where the culture is much calmer and “chaos as the norm” is now a distant memory, and considering how far along I am in life at age 43, I would consider myself a “healthy 8” at this point.

That implies that while I am definitely always at least “low key intense”, I become the best version of myself when I empower others; which is how I am finding I am choosing to spend a decent amount of free time these days.

I wanted to be the token Paul Rudd; the easy-going guy who gets eventually annoyed but still goes along with what the group wants to keep the peace. And sometimes, I could easily pass as that Enneagram 9.

But the reality is, the actual me has a stage presence much more similar to Robert DeNiro, Joe Rogan, Tom Hardy, Sean Penn, or Johnny Cash:

Enneagram 8 Wing 9, also known as “The Bear”, or “The Mob Boss”.

Back in high school, my senior year in 1999 I was voted “One and Only”. My entire life I have known I am different compared to the average person. How could I not be? Enneagram 8s are the official challengers of all the numbers.

Also my senior year, I casually auditioned for the senior play and was immediately cast as the comic relief/minor villain, “The Wolf”. It’s undeniably the energy of an Enneagram 8 on display. But was I really even acting?

Like Frank Sinatra, one of the most famous Enneagram 8 Wing 9s famously sang, “I did it my way.”

I guess it all goes back to my need for control. Here’s a perfect example: Years ago, I worked in an office where “Casual Fridays” were allowed.

To mock the arbitrary concept of only being allowed to wear jeans on Friday, but not Monday through Thursday, I started “Hawaiian Shirt Thursdays”. I even hung up flyers in the bathrooms to promote the perfect transition to Casual Friday.

A Hawaiian shirt is a button down shirt with a collar, so it didn’t violate the dress code for Thursdays. About a month into it, I had at least a dozen coworkers joining me each Wednesday for the event.

I “challenged” the dress code. Regardless of an official title, I acted like a boss- and people followed me; even if it was all in the name of fun.

So if only “eight-holes” come to mind when you think of Enneagram 8s, hopefully I have now “challenged” you to see us 8s in a new light.

Who knows? Maybe you’re an 8. Or maybe you’re married to an 8.

My wife is married to an 8. I almost feel bad for her. But as I was unpacking my true number, she was “helping” me realize hers:

She’s a 2, the Helper. Makes sense I would need her help.

So what about you? Do you think you might know an Enneagram 8 in your life?

I am curious. Tell me more!