As of late I’ve been dealing with a little bit different of a different identity crisis.  Normally it’s around some degree of who I am and what I want to do and not knowing the next steps.  This is around a partnership and what it means when the person closest to you sees you differently than you thought—that all the time you’ve spent together thinking they saw you/understood you in a specific way (a way that allowed for partnership) is entirely different.  There is a degree of vulnerability in knowing how people see you—and they do say often (I’ve also written about it) that what other people think of us is none of our business.  I see why.  It’s one thing to put aside the opinions of those who we rarely interact with, those we pass by in the store or on the street or anywhere really or even those we have little interaction with like neighbors or acquaintances.  But it’s another thing to understand who we are in a relationship and have specific understanding of each other as a person only to find out that one person doesn’t view us that way—that our actions are still misinterpreted.  Relationships are never easy and life itself is set up for the possibility of misinterpretation—we see and do things differently and we see the reasoning behind it differently as well.  But I always assumed there was a degree of understanding between partners that needed no explanation.  So if we don’t have that does it mean we are missing something?  We haven’t had the smoothest relationship over the years and I’m curious if we still have this confusion—why do we when I know I’ve laid myself bare on the altar all this time?    

I’ve been the other half of this relationship for 24 years—I’m not sure we know ourselves outside that anymore.  I’m about to begin a new phase of my life, simultaneously gaining more freedom and going back to certain restraints—somehow both forward and backward at the same time.  I’m terrified of what it means but I’m excited at the same time.  It’s opening up a new facet of my identity.  And I have to let him go do that as well and, as selfish as this sounds, I’m afraid of what that means and what it looks like because I know he will go about it differently, he will find those answers in a different way.  I feel a reawakening in myself with this new opportunity and I love how it feels and I wouldn’t begrudge him that. My fear stems from the fact that he finds his triggers in different ways.  I’m afraid he will find someone who ignites him again rather than something.  That sounds awful- I WANT him ignited because I want to be ignited.  Finding that light is not what I’m trying to prevent. I want us to do that for each other.  I have no control over that and I know it’s my insecurity that tells me he would find those pieces of himself in someone else and it breaks my heart a little thinking that because I know I’m still able to find pieces of me in him—and I want to.  He is all those things I love (and loved) and more and I’m afraid he doesn’t want to share the best parts of himself with me.  It leaves me vulnerable to the possibility that I have exposed more of myself over the years and that he has held some parts of himself at bay, not putting forth the same effort or attention.  He’s always had a different view of relationships and how they work—they’ve always been one sided for him.    

What triggered this moment of realization of this discrepancy of my identity was when I saw he doesn’t see my worth, what I contribute, by talents.  I’d been struggling with some things around the house—we are going through some massive changes here and it’s been overwhelming with everything we have going on—this is totally common.  But I couldn’t hold up my end on a few things—tasks I had always been good at seemed impossible and I had to rely on him to help me in spite of all the work he was doing.  I’d been trying to take some of that responsibility off of him and I still needed him.  I’d complimented his talents on the work he’s doing here and he told me I’m talented at being his wife—like WTF does that mean?  I’m a manager, a boss, a force to be reckoned with.  I’m a mother and friend and I’ve taken him out of countless messes—yet my talent is limited to being a good wife?  What the fuck?  That right there tells me he doesn’t see me.  Not the real me.  I’m a writer, a mediator, an inspiration, a light to the entire fucking world—but I’m talented at being a wife.  I don’t take offense to being a talented wife, I know I AM a talented wife.  I’ve put up with nonsense for years and I’ve maintained a career and home and gotten us to this point in our lives.  I’ve taken us this far.  I KNOW that is where I’ve shown talent and reserve and power—but I am so much MORE than that.  And I need him to see that in me because my identity isn’t just as part of this relationship.  Perhaps that is what I needed to remind myself of.  The whole thing was an insecurity trigger for me and knowing he is working on finding himself as well led me down a spiral.  We can be so many things in our lifetimes, in the end none of it matters.  It’s how we see ourselves and what we do with it.  It’s easier to move along the path supported, but even without it, we are still who we are.  Don’t forget that.