fight club


Being vague never works. In fact, Dean considers my vagueness to be “cryptic” and to him, being cryptic is equal to lying. To me, being vague is just my way of glossing over the little details that don’t mean shit in the long run. That difference of opinion is what lead to our first big fight. And it’s what lead to confusion about my last entry.

Fighting is something I hate. I grew up with nothing but fighting all around me. My parents were VERY young when they had me and my brother. They were married, had two kids, and divorced by the time they were 27/28. I was a toddler when they split. My only memories of my parents together are angry and violent and blurry. Then they split and girlfriends, boyfriends, and eventually stepparents came along. There was nothing but fighting. Nothing but petty bullshit always around them. Always arguing over custody, visitation, and who to bring around their kids. You think I have one single memory of my parents being happy? EVER? Nope!

And then, if my parents weren’t fighting with each other, they were fighting with my stepparents. There’s a reason my dad is on wife #4 and mom is on husband #2. Who the fuck knows if any of these relationships will last either. I think my mom and stepdad actually will, but I always question my dad and his wives. The second one, well I got a brother out of it so not a total loss. But the third one was such a horrible person that she earned the title of Stepmonster and eventually Stepcunt. She was/is pure evil.

You know what happens when your parents fight all the time and you’re left in charge of your younger sibling? You know what happens when you’re surrounded by hate and anger ALL THE TIME? You end up fighting with your sibling until you damn near kill each other. (Seriously, it was near death twice.) Eventually in high school, my brother and I stopped trying to kill each other and became very good friends. That was due to the loss of our stepbrother though. Story for another time.

Straight out of high school, I then proceeded to get involved with someone who I later found out was sexually abused as a child and as a result of that and my own inexperience, I let him do a lot of shit to me I shouldn’t have. He later became violent and physically abusive. We fought a lot and towards the end, those fights ended with me all bruised up. I took a 5 year break after that guy and then got involved with someone I later found out was emotionally abusive! Our fights only happened in the beginning of the relationship because I found out that if I dared to fight back, he would just leave and shut me out for anywhere from 1 to 3 weeks. He’d randomly vanish on me and go into lockdown mode for up to a month too if things got too tough. So essentially, I got involved with two abusive men for a combined total of 5 years and both of these men made fighting something I never ever wanted.

Now I’m with someone who loves to argue. To say that this is an adjustment phase with Dean is an understatement.

He loves to start fights, get his anger out, and move on. I fucking HATE fighting. I’m always afraid that one bad fight too many will result in the man leaving me. Why wouldn’t I have that fear???? Look at my parents! Look at my last two relationships! I don’t want it in my life anymore. I want to walk away from it. I will hold my tongue and be 100% silent if it means avoiding an argument.

A fighter and a non-fighter. This is not a working system.

The first couple fights with Dean were admittedly my fault. I have a lot to learn about being with a normal above average man who wants to know every detail, doesn’t want me to be vague, has issues of his own, and wants to grow together. It’s just that his method of getting to the change is to fight over it and my method is to talk it out. Guess who’s way ends up happening?

But the thing is, after these fights, I’ve changed my ways. That is not something he ever anticipated either. He never thought he’d be with a woman who could admit she was wrong and not only that, fix the things that made her wrong. He wasn’t asking for much, just an alternate way of speaking to him and making sure I was totally open with him. So once the confusion was over and the crying and yelling was over with, understand occurred and things changed. This is what every woman dreams of! This is the holy grail of relationships! Have a problem and resolve it! Who knew?!

I’ve started to appreciate the fighting between us for it’s true purpose of movement and growth. I don’t love it though. Especially now that I know what levels he’ll stoop to in order to win and argument even when he’s 100% wrong and *I* was the one who had the issue and he was totally in the doghouse. Don’t get me wrong… he’s been utterly amazing to me and he’s held his head up high when I’ve been a basket of hormonal rage or crippling sadness. He’s been there to hold an ice pack on the back of my neck while I sit on the toilet delirious with a fever. It was just one stupid misunderstanding that lead to another fight that lead to a weekend apart. He took that low road and it bit him in the ass because in the long run, something he said caused me to think too much and change my entire attitude. He scared the fuck out of me and that fear germinated into something else he wasn’t prepared for. Now he’s stuck with having to make a big decision. (And I WILL address this in another entry.)

In the end, we always end up talking things out, making changes, and helping each other understand what happened so we don’t do it again. In the end, I know he won’t just leave. I know this is all healthy and normal. I know I’m the one who has to make the changes internally to get past my fears. It’s just not easy and it takes a little trial and error to get through it.


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