Our marriage group is important to me. We talk about the nuances of our days, and emotional terrain, in a way that keeps me grounded. Without it, I would have a backlog of feelings that never saw the sun.
The other morning/night we met as usual. I am ambiguous about the time, because as it happens the experiences vary. For some of us, it is after breakfast. For others, it is evening. No one is wrong about this. Rather, it is testimony to the variations within this circle of marriage.
As each person had their turn to speak, there was a confession that
squeezed out like the last of the toothpaste.
"We had a kind of argument about our vacation plans. It is still a bit frosty."
"Last night we fell into a ridiculous tiff about the covers. She wanted more, while I wanted less. We didn't really solve it."
It did nothing to lessen our tradition of appreciations. Those happen without fail, and are a sweet dessert to our time together.
Being in the safety of this gathering, we could manage to have perspective. Admitting our annoyances to people who love us
anyway freed us from the captivity that festers in silence. Our laughter and shrugging released the tension that over time can erode affection. Knowing that we all fuss helps us let go of the need to pretend that we don't.
