REGAINING THE FRIENDSHIP IN MARRIAGE
By Caryn Burdine
The mass of clouds hung low, barely illuminated by the backdrop of the full moon. The air was thick and humid, fully revealing the moisture that would soon be released to the ground.
As I closed the front door behind me, heaviness filled my soul. I didn't wait for the clouds, but released my own floodgates of tears.
The kids were in bed, and the house was dimmed and quiet. Two lonely coffee cups remained on the table reminding me of the conversation moments before.
My husband had just left to go back to his own apartment. The reality of the situation engulfed me with sorrow as I recalled our conversation pertaining to divorce. I sat at the kitchen table and wept, trying desperately to figure out where it had all gone wrong and how to salvage something from what seemed a hopeless situation.
My husband and I had been separated for a year. Our fifteen year marriage was to become yet another statistic, and there was nothing I could do. How could I possibly resign myself to the inevitable?
I am from a divorced home, and had never wanted my kids to go through the same thing. All efforts were exhausted, and it was time for me to accept my lot. I had to make a decision. Did I want to end this marriage in anger and throw my children in the middle of an emotional war, or could I put aside my fears and hurts and accept this like a woman of God?
In spite of what had happened in our relationship, my husband is a wonderful man. While sitting at that table amidst the tears, I made a decision that changed my life - and my marriage - forever. If I could not be his wife, I at least wanted to be his friend.
I entered the marriage believing we would be friends forever. However, subtle changes crept into our lives unexpectedly. My husband began steering towards his career, while I turned my focus towards building a "home."
Soon children entered our ranks, and one day began to spiral into the next. Expectations grew, burdens accumulated, and the friendship once shared between us had been lost in the course of "life."
I once heard someone say, "A man marries a woman hoping she will never change, while a woman marries hoping to change her husband." I found truth in this as I evaluated the expectations I held for my husband in comparison to expectations I had of my friends. Why do I do things for my friends more willingly than I do for my spouse?
I was readily available when a friend needed a week's worth of rides to and from work. In fact, I was happy to help. However, when my husband needed me to pick something up for him at the hardware store, I saw it as one more burden in my already busy day.
When my husband came home late from work, I felt taken for granted. But should a friend not appear for a scheduled coffee one morning, I totally understood.
Should a friend offend me in some way, I would have no problem going to her and talking out the problem, but let my husband offend me in some unintentional way, and I would repay him with silence and anger.
I could easily go to my friends if there was something that I needed, Yet, I expected my husband to read my mind and know my needs. I would always assume the best with my friends and assume the worst with my husband.
I was secure with my friends having other friends, but if my husband had other friends, it was always a threat. I gave my friends space to grow and be themselves, but my husband was under the microscope at all times.
On and on the scenarios could be compared. The more I saw the expectations I held, the more I understood the distance in our marriage. I was deep into my role of changing him.
As I started to treat my husband more as my friend, amazing things occurred. He slowly was able to let his guard down and relax around me. He could open up and communicate honestly without me condemning him for his thoughts or opinions. And I was able to release my control and let him be the man God created him to be rather than who I thought he should be.
As my perspective changed, his burdens were eased.
I stopped trying to be his "mom." Instead of standing over him, I stood beside him and got to know him in a non-threatening way.
I stopped interrogating him about every little thing he did, giving him freedom to discover his own ways. In my mind, I gave him gave him permission to make mistakes. I paid attention to the things I said to him, and to the way they were said. My goal was to encourage and build him up, not to say things that put him down.
I gave him the freedom to make his own choices. Things did not always have to be my way. Even when I disagreed, I tried to support him. "I told you so" became a phrase of the past.
Very slowly, our relationship was renewed, recreated, and more fulfilling than ever before. Our friendship was revived - our marriage restored.
Today, three years later, I sit at the same table staring at two more coffee cups. The sun is out; the air is crisp and dry, without a cloud in the sky…and my best friend just left to start his day.
© 2000 Caryn Burdine