Last updated on November 26, 2023
Sorting through messages I receive on Facebook, yet another asked if my wife and I have a normal marriage. This is a question to which I’m expanding the answer in A Spectrum of Relationships (ideally for later this year). Questions about relationships dominate when I address groups and are the majority of messages I receive online.
I am preparing a transcript on this for the podcast, but I also believe it might be best to have a panel of sorts with my wife on this.
What is “normal” in a marriage or in the events that lead to marriage? That’s a topic that fills a great many books, and I’m no expert on relationships in general, much less romantic relationships.
So, some of the basics I will share:
I had a crush on my wife when I was in seventh grade and through high school. She was, and is, smart, quiet, and intellectually curious. Also, she was something of a tomboy, in my view, and I liked that about her. She grew up on a small farm and wasn’t likely to mind hiking in the mountains or along the beach.
Another young lady and I hung out in middle school, but I’m not sure why. She was nice, and, again, something of a tomboy. I definitely have a “type” that I find interesting and it isn’t the fancy dress and makeup type.
I had no idea how to approach my wife when I was in seventh grade and she was in eighth. I told her sister that I liked her. Not much help. I told one of our friends. How do you tell someone you like her? I haven’t the foggiest. In the end, I was in high school, years later, and told her on a Science Club trip how amazing I considered her to be.
I cannot recall any real “dates” in high school. Not anything that someone might call a girlfriend. No, I thought about her… with the random attractions that every high school guy must have to various girls. Yes, I did notice other people, but I kept wondering about her. She was different.
My wife and I lost contact during college. I had no real girlfriend and only a few attempts at dating during college. If someone did show an interest in me, I tended to miss the signals or panic. The one person I liked and about whom I cared, I had no ability to even be a good friend. I can’t connect well, and I really couldn’t connect well 30 years ago.
When I finally did make a more serious connection with another person, it was short-lived. The young woman was nice, and I hope she is well, but I had no idea how to manage things. She lived some distance away and I was struggling to become a high school teacher. She visited my parents, I visited her home, and we quickly fizzled.
After college, as teaching high school fell apart, I reconnected with my wife. I knew I needed to do something technical because teaching seemed doomed. I asked my wife to help with something software related. The moment I was around her again, I didn’t want her to be out of my life. But, I had no clue how to treat her, what to say, how to act, or anything else.
We struggled as a couple. So many things went wrong in our lives and so many bad choices I made. I’m just not good with people, not even my wife. We don’t communicate well.
My self-esteem is horrible, however difficult that might be to believe. I am confident about some skills, but I am incredibly insecure about 90 percent of things in life. Even as we prepared to marry, I was self-destructively ruining things. I have never felt worthy of her, and probably never will.
Because she is even less expressive than me, I don’t always know how she feels. That’s not good, especially with my insecurities. I often feel alone, isolated, and a burden. Is that normal? I do not know. It’s not easy to constantly wonder if she would be happier and more content with a different partner. There are better men out there, and probably one better for her.
We do our best. It’s never easy. We try, but it is difficult. We both need to be more supportive and more expressive. We need to say nicer things and be more fun. I wish I could say and do things that would make her smile. I wish I could bring her some joy and happiness.
Relationships are work. That’s the one thing about love I know for sure.
How do I know she cares? How does she know I care? Because we’re there when things go wrong. When she’s been in the hospital, I’ve sat there next to her bed and held her hand. I’ve worried about her when she was in surgery. I cannot imagine a world without her. She’s the best person I know.
When I’ve had surgeries, she’s there. When I’ve struggled in school or at work, she’s been there.
I ask too much of her. When autistics say the world needs to accommodate us, I consider all my wife has to tolerate as my partner. She has to deal with my extreme emotions, my extreme sensory processing, my extreme pain, and all my failures. She does more than most people, yet she feels like she’s asked to somehow manage my life and hers.
I do struggle under stress. I panic and need to escape situations that overwhelm me. My escape is to find cool, quiet, peaceful spaces. But, there are events I cannot handle alone, especially when it is one thing after another and the stress rises exponentially. Our move to Pennsylvania included the death of a cat we loved, a rough start to a job, and the flooding of our house. It was all too much, and we only knew one person here. I couldn’t manage alone after reaching a breaking point.
My wife knows I’m not strong. Yet, she’s here with me.
She’s amazing. I admire her. I wish I could be more like her, in some ways. In other ways, yes, I do wish she could open up a bit and be more expressive. That’s not her, and that’s difficult for me.
Is our marriage normal?
It is two people, trying each day to be decent. We try to be the best parents we can be, knowing we’re making mistakes along the way. We try to be good to each other, knowing we need to be better, somehow.
I still look at her sitting on the couch, reading a book or her iPad screen, and I feel that gasp. I think about how amazing she is and how lucky I am. If she notices me watching her and the cats, she will ask, “What?”
So many things I could say, and want to say, but I usually respond, “Just looking at the cats and you.”