Failure to Communicate

A few years ago, I dated this guy who wasn't what you would call the most romantic guy. He was nice and very smart and all that other stuff, but when it came to understanding the person he was dating, he was lacking somewhat in the sensitivity area. For example: I would hint, and mention, and allude to the fact that sometimes girls like to be given something sweet, like, say, flowers. So one day, he brought me a "gift": Motor oil.

Needless to say, there was a bit of hurt feelings and arguing before we were able to understand what the problem really was (my car at the time would leak oil and he felt it was much more practical to show his affection for me by "caring" for my car). It was good, however, in that it taught me a lot about relationships and thought processes and communication. It all boils down to that stuff now more commonly referred to as our "Love Language" (by the way, in case anyone is wondering, mine is actually physical touch).

Despite all the good "relationship lessons" it taught me, I remember wishing that I could find a guy who was a bit more sensitive.

You know how they say "be careful what you wish for". . . . ?

No one told me that the problem with a sensitive guy is that he's. . . well, sensitive!

Okay, so here's the deal: I've been dumped at least twice for my "failure to communicate" which is something that I struggle with constantly. It's something I've struggled with my entire dating career, in fact. Steph came across some old notes she had kept from when we were in jr. high school and we read through them during one of my visits and I realized that even my first boyfriend way back then complained about my "not sharing what's going on in my head". Stupid non-mind-readers. . .

So, over the last couple of years, I've worked hard to try and teach myself to "open up". Not an easy task considering it means undoing twenty-some years worth of upbringing and life-styling. It takes a huge amount of effort on my part and, I'll be honest, it can be pretty frustrating, especially when I get dumped YET AGAIN because my efforts still aren't good enough.

Anyway, so here I am in a long distance relationship, where communication is even more important than it ever has been before. Something comes up and I make my effort to "share" what's going on in my head (in my best "non-confrontational" efforts I can come up with). I'm very careful in my choice of words, doing everything possible to not make accusations or place any type of blame anywhere other than on my own weaknesses. And yet, somehow my words still manage to offend and hurt the one I was trying to be open with.

Argh! I fail when I don't share and I fail when I do. What's a girl supposed to do???

Another one of the many problems with this long distance thing is that we don't see each other enough to know our temperaments and how we deal with conflict. Apparently I have discovered the one guy in the world who is skilled in dealing (or perhaps, more accurately, not dealing) with conflicts the same way I do: Shut down, stop communicating for a bit, and then return to normal life after having taken some time to ponder on it on our own, but never speaking it out loud.

I'm so used to being with guys who force me to talk about things right away that I forgot what it's like to be on the receiving end of the "I don't want to talk about it right now" statement. And apparently, I don't take it very well.

Well, I mean, why should I? Silence was a favorite form of punishment in my household growing up. So even if it's not intended to be punishment now, it sure stings just the same. And remember how I mentioned my "love language" was physical touch? Well, with a long distance relationship, I've had to alter my language from the physical touch that is so rare to come by to the verbal "touch" that comes in the form of text messaging. Which means silence for the sake of silence carries a lot of weight on the West Coast half of the relationship.

It's even more frustrating when I'm not entirely sure what I did or said to start the trouble in the first place. I suddenly have a new sympathy for all those poor guys I've put through this in the past. . . .

So now we've come across our first major relationship compromise situation: how do we deal with conflict when I need words and resolution and he needs silence and time? How do we go about taking care of ourselves and each other at the same time? How can we avoid causing one party to hurt just because the other party won't give? How do I give him the time and space he needs without sacrificing my need for communication? It's a pretty complicated problem.

Mike's a little concerned that we've hit such a bump so early into our relationship. Not me though. In reality, because of the fact that our communication styles are so different (and yet, our natural instincts are so similar) I'm not at all surprised that we're dealing with this less than a month into things. That doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad sign. In fact, if dealt with correctly, it might actually end up being a good thing (but really, who deals with things correctly the first time around anyway? Or second or third for that matter? Doesn't it usually take about 50 fights before a couple starts to get the compromise thing down?)

So, now I know: communicate to Mike as I used to desire the other guys to communicate to me. Gently, sweetly, softly, with a whole lot of patience and understanding. And be ready to wait. (God, I hate waiting!) I know I can learn that stuff. I watch mom and Don (Don is another of those wonderfully sensitive guys who unfortunately is also somewhat sensitive. Maybe my mom did warn me about this stuff. Maybe I should pay more attention when she does her "mom talk" stuff. . . .) Mom has learned how to be gentle with her communication (she wasn't the "shut down and give the silent treatment" parent but her communication skills were just as ineffective) so I know I can relearn this stuff too.

And why not? I'm teaching myself Finnish, which is turning out to be much more complicated than I had anticipated. Communication can't be that much harder. . . . right?