I hate romantic comedies. Even when I love them, I hate myself for loving them. They are big, fat liars, liars with their pants aflame. They tell us all sorts of stupid things. Like if that guy acts like a jerk most of the time, but is mysteriously kind once in awhile, he probably truly loves you but is afraid to show it. Like if the girl acts sassy, bratty and like she doesn’t care about the guy, he will be so entranced by her he’ll follow her anywhere. Like love at first sight. Like soulmates. Like, “you complete me”. That one is a bunch of bullshit, if I’ve ever heard it. I don’t want someone else to “complete me”, because I am an entire person all myself.
Hands down, the most annoying romantic comedy idea is the one where the girl (usually it’s the girl, but not always) says something like, “This is just who I am, and if you can’t take the bad, then you don’t deserve the good.” OK, so I don’t want someone to complete me, that’s true. But, I certainly don’t want someone who is just going to put up with my bad behavior. And I sure as hell do not want to be with someone who expects me to put up with his bad behavior. My husband and I love each other and have been through some real stuff together. We don’t “put up with the bad so we can deserve the good.” We call each other on our bratty behavior because we love each other and we expect to be treated better than that.
I don’t mean we pick on each other. God knows we both give lots of slack. We watch our language, we do not speak foolishly in anger (most of the time), we calm down, and we laugh at ourselves (and each other) often. But, when one of us acts ridiculously, well we don’t just say, “Oh well, she’s just sassy, isn’t that cute. It's worth it to be with her/him.” Let me paint you a picture.
Saturday morning, several years ago. My husband is getting ready to play a softball game and I’m getting ready to head to the barn. No kids, yet, so that what our Saturdays consist of--fun and games. Before I go, I quickly throw a load of laundry in the washer. No one can say I’m not a helpful wife, right? Doing my part, chipping in, and so on. As I’m getting my stuff together, he comes storming down the stairs.
“Honey!!” he yells, in that tone of voice that is NEVER good. “Where are my baseball pants?”
“What pants? I didn’t see any pants,” I had no idea what he was talking about.
“The pants I left lying on the hamper. Where are they? I need them right now!”
“All the clothes lying on the hamper are in the washer. I put them in about 10 minutes ago. Aren’t they dirty?”
“NO! They are clean and I laid them on the hamper because I needed to wear them to play today. They’re my only pair.” He is getting agitated--face red, voice raised, tendons tight.
Now, I ask you, friends, if someone puts his clothes ON the clothes hamper, wouldn’t you expect them to be in need of washing? Wouldn’t you throw them in the washer and be proud of yourself for helping out? Would you carefully inspect them for dirt to ascertain their need for cleaning? Would you think two steps ahead, to “my husband is going to play baseball today, maybe he needs these pants”? Well, needless to say, I did not do the latter. I WASHED THE PANTS.
Here is a moment captured by no romantic comedy ever. Here is a moment when no one in his or her right mind would say, “Hey, if you can’t take me at my worst--my most demanding, my most airheaded, my most unreasonable, my most furious--then you don’t deserve me.” Here is a moment, a slice of everyday life, where the silly, indefensible, truth of bad behavior comes out.
Hy husband is late (which he hates), with wet pants he grabbed out of the washer and then dropped on the dirty basement floor, furious and frustrated. He says, “Didn’t you notice? Don’t you notice anything? You don’t CARE!”
Now, up until this point, I was feeling very contrite, trying to make things better, ready to plead my case and apologize. But, when I heard those words out of his mouth, well, I lost it. I don’t get angry very often, and let me tell you, that is probably a good thing.
He leaves the house, jumps in the car, and begins to back out the driveway. I run out of the house, in pajamas and barefeet, grab the door of his car and open it as he backs out. I’m yelling, “You don’t get to say something like that and then LEAVE! I do care, God damn it! You don't get to say that and just run away!”
He’s yelling, “Get out of the way! Are you crazy? You are going to get hurt!”
Let me tell you, I am from the hills of southeastern Ohio, or “Ahia” as we say. You may take the girl out of the redneck, but you do not take the redneck out of the girl. If you piss me off enough, I WILL stand screaming in the yard of our subdivision, in pajamas and bare feet, and open your car door while you back out of the driveway.
OK, this is not one of our proudest moments, this is not a moment when either of us can say, “If you don’t love this, then you don’t deserve to love me.” Both of us acted like spoiled children, and both of us called each other on it. Both of us got some space that day and both of us apologized later. It has become a mythic story in our relationship. Other crises are measured on the day-she-washed-his-pants scale; there have been a few bigger than this, and many that didn’t measure up to it.
I guess my point in painting this picture of wedded bliss is to bring a little reality to the romance. If you act like a jerk, you should expect your partner to call you a jerk. You should probably apologize for being a jerk. You should probably try not to act like such a jerk the next time. You should NOT say, “Well, that is just how I am. You need to learn to deal with it. You should love me the way I am.” When your partner acts like a jerk, you should call him (or her) on it. I don’t advise jerking open a moving car door in your pajamas, because it’s a little crazy. But, you certainly don’t need to put up with someone else’s bad behavior, anymore than you should expect them to put up with yours.
Treat each other with respect, and when you mess up, apologize. I don’t see this much in romantic comedies, but it is the true bedrock of my relationship. It is the most important vow in my marriage, not “love me as I am, or you don’t deserve me.”
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