Figleaf's Real Adult Sex

I know you know this is more complicated, figleaf, and I realize that you posted this on the fly, so please read my comment as ruminating on your post and extending it, rather than contradicting it in any way. And I’m sorry if I sound awfully abstract. That’s partly because I’m thinking about other people’s relationships, not just my own. It’s also because even when it comes to my own concrete experiences, they aren’t mine alone and so I’m strongly averse to hashing them out in public, especially when they’re not yet ancient history.

I completely agree that in a basically happy, sound relationship, partners give each other the benefit of the doubt. I don’t think many grownups expect perfection, and I’m a little puzzled why that’s the term you chose. When one person goofs up – as will inevitably happen from time to time – the other partner cuts them some slack. I’d go so far as to say that this is a hallmark of a good relationship.

But this spirit of generous forbearance sometimes goes missing even though both people care deeply about each other. When that happens – in my experience, anyway – a lot of the gap between the depth (or even the fact) of one person’s caring, and what the other person can actually perceive, comes down to communication. When one person repeatedly sends mixed signals over a sustained period of time, it tends to obscure the caring, no matter how real or deep. Those mixed messages can communicate indifference, or coldness, or worse – even though affection isn’t dead. Long-term dysfunctional communication makes it hard for the other person to default to the assumption that the first person really does care. Sometimes both parties are equally involved in the communication breakdowns; sometimes one checks out, leaving the other to wonder what happened.

At that point, the benefit of the doubt is hard to maintain, and if one partner feels that the other has withdrawn, they may reflexively do the same to protect themselves from further hurt. In place of generosity come hurt, anger, alienation, and quarreling about seeming trivialities, often simmering at a low level and only occasionally boiling over. I know a few couples who’ve have been frozen into this zombie-like state for years upon years, although they’re actually pretty well matched and could be happy again if only they could find ways to recapture that basic sense of good will.

I’m not suggesting that generosity must be earned, or that it’s a tentative gift that can and should be withdrawn capriciously. I’m saying it can be eroded over time when communication is cavalier or downright hurtful, or when partners feel taken for granted. Turning that around does usually require confrontation in order to get back to that place of generosity. And that may involve outright conflict, especially when one partner sees a problem and the other is satisfied with the status quo (or dissatisfied but unable to imagine anything better). And my experience is that it can be turned around, but it’s hard and it only works if both people (eventually) are willing to talk about what went awry in the first place.

And while I really don’t want to go into detail, I’m pretty sure that without a willingness to confront those mixed signals – not with conflict as an end in itself, but as the first step toward reclaiming a spirit of generosity – my marriage might well be defunct by now, or at best, among the ranks of the undead. Instead, it’s in a mostly happy place. Having gone through that experience makes me skeptical of the idea that there’s a disconnect, or even a dichotomy, between “conflict” and “generosity.” (And believe me, I’d live a life free of conflict, if I could, because nothing stresses me more; nothing makes me unhappier, in the short run. Maybe that’s why it took me 40 years to figure out that avoiding it would make me even unhappier in the long run.)

One more thing – now that I see your update, figleaf – I think that sometimes, the simple act of both partners clarifying their intentions, stating their intentions out loud instead of assuming that they’re evident to the other, can be the next step in the process. Because, of course, conflict is not enough; somehow, one has to move through it and toward a real rapprochement. Substituting careful for casual communication is a pretty good start. Maybe that’s screamingly obvious, but if so, it’s much easier to say it than to live it.

And then at some stage, there has to be the sort of forgiveness and mutual understanding that lets history become history. That, too, is hard, but it’s not impossible, and if you can actually get there, it’s so, so worth it. The thing is, it can’t be rushed or short-circuited. Dwelling on the past isn’t especially helpful, but unless we learn not to repeat it, we’re stuck.

(Sorry this got so long. I’d post it at my place – maybe I still will – but I’d like to hear what you’ve got to say, figleaf.)