Temper Tantrums.

It seems that everyone is either entering into or coming out of a relationship. I’m surrounded by constant analyses of guy behaviors, their thoughtfully sweet gestures or thoughtlessly rude reactions. And it reminds me that girls are fastidiously picky about their mates. Even to the point of expecting their men know their every wish before it is vocalized.

I used to think I wasn’t one of these inexplicably analytical, volatile women.

But I am.

I’m not insistent on shopping or acquiring sparkly jewelry or going to fancy restaurants. But I am insistent on ‘having adventures’ and ‘trying new things’ (Bryan knows very well how this insistence can play out — particularly in DC, the hub of all novel experiences). Planning ‘adventures’ can be fun, but it can also lead to fighting, emotional breakdowns or even — I really hate to say it — pouting.

Click for Source.

Once, Bryan sat at the wrong table in a small bistro (I wanted a booth), so I pouted and silently moved all my stuff to the “correct” table after he sat down. It still makes me upset when he talks about the Giant Cosmic Cantina Burrito that I’ve forbidden him from eating, due to its sheer monstrosity. And, I can lash out at him for not knowing simple cooking terminology (Bryan: “how do you know when the sauce is boiling?”).

This is not to imply that pouting and temper tantrums happen often. They really don’t. But I am saying that when it does happen, it is a result of my self-centered expectations and that’s really unfair. Try as I might to be mature, adventurous and independent, what I’m really (and quite unrealistically) after is a boyfriend who supports all these things 24/7 — from morning to evening — day-in, day-out — a slave who pleases me all the time.

You laugh now, but I am serious.

It’s a terribly self-centered perspective. Bryan does all these things 99.9% of the time. He is wonderful. And that .1% of the time he thinks about himself (honestly, this only really happens when sports are involved…) I throw my “immature girl” temper tantrum. For instance, last night, Bryan and I fought about the dating of Ancient Synagogues (seriously). We fought, I was “right” and I waited for him to apologize, hanging up and tapping my foot in anticipatory impatience for him to call back and apologize. He did, in fact, and I apologized as well. But it’s the point of the matter — I felt the righteous anger to hang up in the middle of our argument? As much as I’m still fighting against the idea that I am one of those girls who expects a boyfriend to wait on her hand and foot, I’ve realized I am one of them.

I just read a wonderfully honest blogpost about how the first year of marriage isn’t all roses and sparkles and honeymoons. Not because that’s nearly impossible, but because women often tend to blame their “imperfect” husbands for something lacking within themselves: insecurity or in lack of a relationship with God.

So true. I am working on being more mindful about Bryan’s needs and letting go of my insecure need to be petted and pleased in all circumstances.

In the meantime here’s a tongue-in-cheek chart about how women’s minds work. It’s pretty spot-on. In fact, I showed it to Bryan, and received this response:

“I am a supportive shopping companion when asked or needed, and I think that’s the point, anyways, right?

Among the more serious ones: friend, companion, good listener, intelligent, dependable, passionate, understanding, attentive. These are strong suits I believe.

Where I shall improve: chef, electrician, plumber, carpenter, mechanic, decorator. I think I mostly failed that entire section related to male roles in taking care of the house. I’ll have to read-up.”
Ever the servant’s heart.

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