Sweet Humble Pie

I stumbled across an inspirational post over on SITS yesterday...

Letting Go: How to Inspire the Best in You (have a read, you'll like it)

A bunch of brave women who have decided to stop trying to be Superwoman and let go of some things that have been holding them trapped in negative patterns.

So I am taking up the challenge, as it was laid down, to write my own post and make my own "Letting Go" sign. What am I letting go of?

This...

I have a need to be right. An urge to argue.
You may not know that about me.
In fact, even if you are my friend in real life, you may not have seen this side of me.
Truth is, it only really shows up with my hubby.
Poor guy.

And I have seen the light.
Or to put it more baldly, I have heard myself in my daughter's self-righteous argumentativeness.
Oh it's ugly.

I lay in bed the other Sunday and heard myself. It was her doing the actual arguing of course, but I suddenly knew where she got it from. And understood where my hubby has been coming from all these years.

Now you need to know up front, that I am blessed with a rather amazing husband.
He is always the first to say sorry. He's had to be. Cos for some strange reason it was like I had an allergic reaction to admitting I was wrong.

I have just recently had a new appreciation of the rarity and value of his finer qualities after talking to my therapist (yes I have one of those).
See, I am so quick to complain and see the negative. I tend to be a glass half empty kinda gal, though I wish I was the half-full type.

So there I was talking to the therapist about my hubby, having a little bit of a whinge, when she gently pointed out to me all that my husband has been through with me in the past ten years.
It isn't always easy living with a person who battles depression.
And yet here he is, still loving me.

He married Super-Girl. I was a "change the world" type, leaping funding obstacles with a single bound, saving the world one teenage delinquent at a time.
But then... three weeks into our marriage I had my first panic attack.
We were on our way to the airport and I freaked out.
And he stepped up. "You don't have to be out in front now," he told me as he held my sobbing self, "You can stand behind me. I can take the brunt of things... you're not on your own any more..."
And from that early on, he was my rock. For better, for worse he vowed on our wedding day... We have had to walk through "worse", and he has kept his vows.

Now back to me and my need to be right.
See, I spent my teens and twenties being a people pleaser. I didn't argue. I didn't get angry.
When other people enforced their boundaries, I was the one to change and compromise.
My boundaries were non-existent.

Til I got married.
As my therapist said, your husband reaped all your delayed teenage rebellion!
I suddenly discovered I could argue for Africa.
And I could grow some boundaries and enforce them.
No more being a pushover! No Career-as-a-Doormat for me!
No more being meek and mild; no more being the "yes-girl".
My poor hubby.
All this didn't show up until... after marriage.

I became the Queen of Buttinsky. The Diva of Disagreeable Dinner-time Discussions.

My need to be right, my anxious need to no longer be a pushover has seen arguing, back-chat and disagreement become the norm around here. I hate it. I actually hate arguing. But there was something in me driving me to constantly disagree.
Stupid thing is I was blaming my husband for all our disagreements. Because I was obviously right. Why couldn't he see that?

But you know how that one goes don't you? When I point the finger, there are three others pointing right back at me.

Because I lay there in my bed that early Sunday morning last week and heard my daughter spouting off so righteously at her brothers... I suddenly saw that I have been so wrong.
Me. Wrong.
I can admit it and not die.
Isn't that amazing?

So guess what I did?
In the car on the way to church that morning, I turned around to my kids and I apologised to them, in front of my husband.

I said, "I am sorry for always arguing with daddy. I have shown you how to argue. And I have not been a good example. I need to be on Daddy's team, and I am not going to argue any more..."

I think Mr G was a little stunned. The kids were nodding. I felt great.
Apologising and eating humble pie is not the end of the world! the sky did not fall in!

And wouldn't you know it? The last two weeks have been the most peaceful two weeks for years.
I don't mean its been quiet. No. With three extrovert kids and one clown daddy, that is never going to happen.

I mean, I have not been arguing (much). I have not been disagreeing (hardly at all). I have been backing up my husband (much to his surprise).
What a difference.
The kids are nicer to each other, arguing less. It will take time to eradicate the natural arguing reflex, but there's change in the air.

As a bonus, I feel more appreciative of my husband too. There's been a bit more hugging, more smiling, even laughing.

And all it took was me letting go of my need to be right, laying down my arms and armour... and eating a bit of humble pie.

Funny thing, how humble pie can taste so sweet. Who knew?

{If you want to do your own "Letting Go" post... go visit this post on SITS to join in. It's very therapeutic ♥}