So now that A and I have been more or less living together almost full time for the past seven weeks, we’re starting to argue a bit. Not full-blown screaming fights (I hate drama), but moments of heated discussion, incidents of one person getting annoyed or exasperated or angry, situations where one or both of us didn’t actually communicate all that well. They’re not so much small disagreements, but moments where we see clearly how differently we think, and/or how differently we do things.

For me, this has been a powerful experience (and a scary one). At the same time that I am telling myself that the discussions about the disagreements we have are positive and show us how to communicate better with one another, I am also scared that A is going to decide I am either a) a complete bitch, or b) no fun at all and therefore either love me less or just run off.
And yet, at the same time, I am also convinced, despite my fears, that these arguments are valuable. Very valuable.

You see, the time I spend with A right now is a set of great experiences in the present, but it is also learning for the future. Right now, although we’re mostly living together, we each have our own spaces; if we take the step of getting a place together, they’ll be no other place to which to retreat. The arguments and disagreements we have now, uncomfortable as they are, give us a chance to smooth out some rough edges out before we taken an even bigger step and mesh our lives together.

So, you ask, what do we argue about--and what am I learning from these tussles?

1. We have different ways of discussing ideas
A’s an idea guy, smart & articulate; for him, discussing ideas and possibilities is as necessary as breathing. If thinking were competitive chess, he’d be a grand master of ideas. This means that A likes to talk things over in detail, brainstorm, and examine all the possibilities--unfortunately, what we’ve discovered is that this joyful exploration is something I sometimes don’t enjoy and actually shut right down.

You see, I’m both a writer and a former corporate person/executive type. The former means I like to let ideas rattle around in my brain and marinate before I share them; the latter means there are moments—not always, but sometimes, where my response to the opportunity to discuss an idea is a flat, “No, that won’t work,” or a less abrupt “I don’t care for that idea.” Together, these mean I’m not always as open and willing as A t has the more discursive “what if” conversations. I tend to take most discussions seriously and somewhat literally so A’s musings on what life would be like if I did X or built a product like Y often lead to tension on my part, not the cool, engaged discussion A hoped we’d have.

(Confession: Talking this one out with my sweetie has been kind of painful, because I didn’t like hearing truths like “You’re listening to this like I work for you and you’re supposed to answer yes or no,” and “When I try to talk to you about my ideas, and you’re so literal, it makes me feel shot down” as part of exploring why our talks turned tense as A veered into speculations about my life and/or my areas of “expertise”. On the other hand, hearing A share some feeling others have expressed before (ouch!) made me realize that I needed to be sensitive to this tendency in myself; if I want to have open discussion, I have to silence that impulse to be the “executive” and make quick decisions—it’s training that fits well on the job, but not well in my personal life.
The discussions we’ve had about our struggles around sharing ideas related to my work and my life have shown me ways I need to loosen up to be a better partner. I’ve also learned that if there’s something I don’t want to talk about, I just need to say so.

2. We have different approaches to time management and being on time
I manage my life with deadlines and schedules. I am a dedicated worshipper at The Church of Being On Time. When it comes to airline travel and work-related events, my promptness can veer from the eager to the fanatical. If someone else is in danger of making me even 30 minutes late, watch out! For A, on the other hand, much of time is relative. His lateness is well known among family and friends, and while it’s something he struggles to improve, it’s an ongoing effort. For me, A’s lateness hasn’t been much of a problem when it’s about what time he arrives at my house, or how he manages his work life, but when it’s crept into work-related events he’s accompanied me to, and/or shared travel plans, watch out!
Arguing this one out has been more challenging, because in my personal life, I really don’t care that much. But when spending time with A affects how I manage my work life, or whether I (might) miss a plane, I turn into Miss Rigid. In this case, much of the work we’ve done has been to clarify our styles around time management. I’ve learned that I need to give A lots of notice if I’m determined we’re going to get someplace by a specific time; he’s learned that being later around certain things makes me nuts (not a pleasant thing to experience.)

As I am writing this, in the backyard of A’s house in the East Bay, I’ve just told him we need to pack up and head to my place in about 40 minutes; the extent to which we’re actually able to keep to this schedule is going to show me how much progress we’ve making in reconciling our different styles around time. (Update: He did fine, and we were right on time.)

3. We have different ideas about what it means to be a partner
A few weeks ago, as we were picking through a discussion about my work options, A told me that his vision of sharing a life together included being able to freely talk things over. “I want to be able to tell you about my work, and hear what your thoughts are,” he said. “And I want to be able to talk together and help you make decisions about what you want to do.”

My first response to such kind words was a kind of horror. This somewhat inappropriate response got me thinking, hard. I decided that truth was, I was scared of having a real partner, and that, difficult as it was to admit, I’d held off in my marriage from being the kind of partner with my X that A was suggesting he and I become. Afraid of being engulfed, I’d kept a distance from my husband for many years so that worrying about being swallowed up would not be a problem. Now, A was asking for a closeness and collaboration with me that I’d need to let go of past behaviors and attitudes to achieve.

Since that conversation, I’ve been acting on faith, letting go of fears and trying to give A the willing and open partner he needs. It’s kind of scary, because I’m used to being defended, but this is the step into the wild I need to take. I’m willing myself to trust A, both because I do and because if I don’t try trusting someone more now, when might it happen?

4. We’re not clear what it is okay to ask for from one another
One of the themes of my relationship with A is this sense that we are better together, forces of positive change and support for one another (and yes, we like each other and ourselves as we are, as well). Only thing is, there never seems to be quite enough time for us to follow through on everything we want to do with and for one another—and the more boring, drier, meat and potatoes self-development and life management stuff seems to fall by the wayside.

For example, though both A and I swore we’d make every Wednesday night be Bill Pay and Deal with Paperwork night, we haven’t do it even once. And those copies we both bought of Getting Things Done are sitting (not together) on some random shelves, the weekly check-ins we promised one another having somehow fallen away.

Is this kind of support something essential or incremental to our life? What if, for one of us, bill-paying night (for example) isn’t just a nice to have, it’s an essential? And what does it mean then if the other one doesn’t seem especially keen on following through and would rather go to the gym, instead? Is this something we can ask one another for? What if it’s not something he wants to give? What if resentment builds up and then?

You get the drift. There’s that stage where shit happens and then you talk things out. In some ways, we’re just getting into the thick of it.

5. We want to put down the baggage and make it work
Mid-life people have history. They have prior relationships; they have families, pets, memories, and things. They have greats loves in their lives that are now vanished. They have relationships they threw away, or messed up, because they didn’t know any better. And, most of all, they have resolutions to learn from past mistakes and do it better when they go round again.

For both A, and me that means we’re a tad hyper-conscious sometimes of not learning from the past and being condemned to repeat it. This means we’ve got anticipatory dread of screwing up this time around and an awareness of how easily we could make that happen.

Isn’t this a great reason to talk everything out?

The relationship I am creating with A was unexpected in my life, and he’s someone I treasure. For me, the fussing, arguing and heated discussions we’ve having are part of the process of growing closer and learning from—and about—one another. In that spirit, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Although there are moments when our tussles are tiresome, discussions in the spirit of learning from and about one another are valuable, and that’s part of what this time together is about, for me.

Readers, what can you share about taking truth—and sharing hard stuff—in an intimate relationship? Whether it’s your partner, play mate, family member or best friend; what tips about authentic communication and how to get it right can you share? Post comments here.

Blog posts to note:

Karalina’s Blog, Here We go again
“Chris doesn’t feel there’s someone else out there who will catch his eye. But he said that if it happens, he really believes it’s not going to unfold for us the way it did for him and Penny and that he feel he can talk to me about it if it happens.

I suppose it wasn’t the most romantic thing for him to say but it was important for me to know. After all, you’d think a girl would want to hear, “Oh, honey, I’ll always love you. You’re the one — no one will ever turn me on as much as you do.” As much as I feel Chris are going to be together for a long time, we’re realistic. You know, shit happens.”

It’s Never Too Late for Love -stories & advice
“…the minute I met Mitch, I could tell he has "the one" potential. Who knows, that gut reaction is no guarantee. But I really encouraged Shellie to please open her heart to this man. She’s attracted to him, he treats her well, they get along, laugh together, and enjoy each other. And he tells her he’d like this relationship to last a long time.

Can she get past the perfection of her ideal image, to be real? Can she open her heart to great guy when she sees one?”

Transgriot: Thinking about my Ex
"Then love barged in and we spent the next two tumultuous years together. The relationship got off to a rocky start because she wasn't honest about being a divorced mother with a teenage child, I didn't tell her about my gender issues and both of us found out about the other's big secret AFTER we fell into bed.

Long story short, two years later the relationship collapsed. When you wake up looking at a woman with a caramel brown complexion so flawless she only wore lipstick and mascara and barely wore makeup, has a curvy 38-25-38 body that allows her to wear a burlap sack and make it look fashion forward and sexy, and you have you own gender issues it breeds jealously."

Related Posts:

• Dating & Relationships: When to ask the hard questions--and why
• Temptations: Loving a Wounded Guy and Settling For
• When do you say the L (Love) word?

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