My husband called me selfish.
He wasn't mean about it or anything. It wasn't said out of anger or spite, and his voice level was calm and low.
"It just isn't like you," he said one night, "It's just that you're being..."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Selfish," he said, "And it's so weird because it's not like you at all."
"I am being selfish," I said, "I know it seems awful to you, but it's what I need right now."
My husband called me bossy.
He wasn't mean about it or anything. It wasn't said out of anger or spite, and his voice level was calm and even a little teasing.
"You can't tell me what to do. I don't like being bossed."
"I am being bossy," I said, "I know it seems awful to you, but I'm pregnant."
"I know," he said, "That's why I've been nice about it."
The thing is: I don't know if I'm being selfish and bossy because I'm pregnant or because I'm gaining some grounds in recovery.
I don't know if I am actually being selfish in a lot of areas. I used to be SO available to him. I used to do cute dating things and pamper him on bad days. In the meantime, I was never available to me.
So, at the risk of upsetting the dysfunctional harmony of our home, I switched it up. I became available to me. I do cute things for other people (and our kiddos) and pamper me on bad days.
And I got bossy.
I never was before. He was always the bossy one. He made most every decision in our marriage, and I was more of a child than an equal partner. When things didn't go the way I wanted them to, I would hunker down and suffer in silence. I kept quiet when deep down inside of me, something was telling me not to -whether it was my heart or my gut or the both of them combined, I shoved them out of the way. I quit being true to myself.
So, at the risk of upsetting the dysfunctional harmony of our home, I started standing up for myself.
"If you send one more text while you're driving and the kids and I are in tow, I'm going to snatch your phone out of your hands and throw it out the window," I said a few weeks ago, after spending years ignoring the gut feeling telling me to SPEAK UP. My tone was teasing, but he caught my meaning.
"I'm going to get blood work done whether it coincides with your appointments or not. I've put it off long enough, and we need to make sure the baby is okay."
"I'm going HERE."
"I'm doing THIS."
He's been so patient with me through this EMOTIONAL pregnancy, and he's pinning hopes on my selfishness and bossiness taking a hike once the baby's a few weeks old.
But will it?
And can he stand to live with Recovery Me?
Because I can't stand to live without Recovery Me.