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Constructive Criticism Seldom Is

Saturday, January 30th, 2010

“You have more butt than you need, but you have a nice shape.” That’s the closest my hubby Dale has come to criticizing me and to be honest, his comment was merely a verbal observation of fact. I now have more butt than when the comment was made, but he’s never said another word about it. Bless him.

Coupling up bestows permission to say things (e.g., about your sweetie’s butt) that might not otherwise be appropriate. However, there’s a very thin line, over which you ought not to step, between criticism and comments such as that made by Dale. Criticism trashes emotional intimacy. Here’s why: To be justified in criticizing another person, the following must be true:

• You are right and the other person is wrong,
• You are superior in position or knowledge, and
• You have the right to voice criticism and demand certain behavior.

Your sweetheart’s boss, drill sergeant, mother, coach, personal trainer, or professor may meet that criteria but, as your partner’s equal, you do not. What you are (or should be) is the one person on the planet who your partner can always, absolutely, no questions asked, no doubt about it, count on for support. If you want emotional intimacy (and who doesn’t) then never, ever cause your partner to question that support.

You already know that shouting, “You’re lazy!” is more likely to result in the cold shoulder than help around the house. “No, honey, you’re wrong,” won’t endear you to your partner. “You could lose a few pounds,” is likely to get you cut off from you-know-what for several weeks! I don’t need to remind you that overt criticism plays havoc with intimacy. What we all need to remember is that it’s those situations where we’re tempted to give “constructive criticism” that are tricky. Here’s an example:

Your sweetheart is down in the dumps because, in his annual review, the boss said he’s too independent. It may be accurate to say, “Playing well with others is not your strong point. You need to work on that.” And your intention may be loving and the criticism may arguably be constructive, but would it be helpful? Probably not. There’s a good chance your partner will interpret your comment as siding with the boss, who at that moment is public enemy #1. What does that make you?

In this example, supporting your sweetheart doesn’t mean going on a rant about how clueless the boss is. It means saying and doing those things that will help your sweetheart come to his own conclusion about how to best handle it. Until asked for your advice and your help, keep it to yourself. When asked, be careful to give suggestions that are helpful and supportive WITHOUT expressing a single critical word. It’s not up to you to point out your sweetheart’s flaws or to tell him or her how to fix those flaws. If you need to fix something, work on yourself.

To be emotionally intimate, you must be connected. Criticism severs that connection and has no place in an intimate relationship. Noel Coward said it best, “I love criticism just so long as it’s unqualified praise.”

Differences Can Lead to Greater Intimacy

Saturday, January 23rd, 2010

Two questions:

• Why do made-for-each-other love bugs butt heads, step on each others toes, and get their wires crossed?
• In a “discussion” with your sweetie, have you ever said something like, “Well, in my book [fill in the blank].”

The answer to the second question is sure you have. The answer to the first question is this:

The “book” you’re referring to is the unique and complex mix of your preferences, opinions, priorities, standards, points of view, and sensitivities, all shaped by your DNA, upbringing, education, life’s experiences, religious or philosophical training, culture, and self-perception. It’s the guide for how you navigate life and it’s the standard by which you determine if others are flying right. In the context of your relationship, I call this your Foreplay Navigator™. We all have one.

Here’s the problem: You behave (and judge your sweetheart) according to your Foreplay Navigator while your sweetheart behaves (and judges you) according to his or her Foreplay Navigator. It’s like playing a game with two different sets of rules where neither of you knows the others rules. True, the Foreplay Navigators of you and your sweetheart overlap in fundamental ways, but they also differ in a bazillion ways and it’s those differences that result in the head butts, stepped on toes, and crossed wires that often play havoc with intimacy.

If only you could push the “print” button and exchange copies of Foreplay Navigators! Since you can’t, you must:

Never assume your sweetheart sees the world as you do. There are times when your differences require negotiation (such as whether to raise the baby Jewish or Baptist), but it is futile to butt heads over who’s right and who’s wrong. And while you may be passionate about what color the bathroom should be painted, your opinion does not rise to the level of universal truth. Differences are just that. They are not matters of right and wrong.

Never assume your sweetheart sees life as you do. It’s easy to get your toes stepped on if your sweetheart doesn’t know, for example, that according to your Foreplay Navigator, a gift certificate is the ultimate I-gave-this-no-thought acknowledgement of a special occasion, or having coffee with an ex who blew into town is tantamount to cheating. When you feel the pain of stepped on toes, it’s probably nothing more than an innocent clash of Foreplay Navigators.

Never assume your sweetheart sees you the way you see yourself.  When you have beliefs that diminish your self-value (and who doesn’t), it’s easy to get your wires crossed and see or hear negative messages when no such thing is intended.  Your sweetheart loves you. If you don’t believe that, reconsider your relationship situation. If you do, don’t twist your sweetheart’s words and actions to fit your self-perception. When you feel hurt or disappointed, take a close look at why. Perhaps it’s a chapter in your Foreplay Navigator that needs a rewrite. For example, if your sweetheart says, “The rice is salty,” and you hear, “You’re a terrible cook,” maybe the problem is your self-esteem.

Head butts, stepped on toes, crossed wires. They are inevitable in every relationship. You can allow them to destroy intimacy. Or, you can see them as opportunities to learn more about your own and your sweetheart’s Foreplay Navigator and if you do, you will have a richer, more intimate, and more rewarding relationship. I promise.

Forgiveness: Is it Unconditional?

Sunday, January 3rd, 2010

Forgiveness. It’s a topic we hear a lot about when it comes to marriage and relationships. Lord knows there’s plenty to forgive and I, for one, am grateful for a partner who has a generous and forgiving heart. But I ask you, for all the talk and hoopla about the “virtue” of forgiveness, why isn’t there more said about the conditions under which one is forgiven? You, in return, might ask, “Isn’t forgiveness supposed to be unconditional?”  Well, according to idealistic gurus it is, and that would be just dandy if we were perfect human beings. We’re not.

The truth is that forgiveness is conditioned on better behavior in the future. It chaps my hide that so many people think saying, “I’m sorry” is a cure-all that entitles the transgressor to immediate and unconditional forgiveness. That may have worked in kindergarten when you grabbed another kid’s crayon and were forced to give it back with an equally forced apology, but it doesn’t work in grown-up life.

If your sweetheart lies to you once, gets busted, and you forgive, don’t you expect that in exchange for that forgiveness, your sweetie promises not to do it again? What will you do if it happens over and again? Most likely, you’ll stop forgiving, revoke all prior forgiveness, and take a hike. At the very least, your trust will be shattered.

Most failed relationships don’t end because of one major body blow; most suffer death by a thousand cuts, none of which are individually lethal but all of which cumulatively sap the life out of a once vibrant relationship. Since it’s inevitable that we will screw up, it’s a good thing that most cuts can be healed through forgiveness. But here’s a 411 for you: the wound may heal but what’s left is emotional scar tissue. It’s a fact: scar tissue is weaker and inferior to the healthy tissue it replaces. That’s true for physical wounds and equally true for emotional wounds. Every time you do something that requires your sweetheart’s forgiveness, you are weakening the relationship.

Like most things in life, the hurts and disappointments we suffer (and inflict) are relative, ranging from inadvertent to thoughtless to deliberate to downright mean. It’s easy to forgive when your sweetie inadvertently steps on yours toes, much harder to forgive when the person who’s supposed to love you deliberately stomps on your foot. Your partner may give you a get-out-of-jail-free card the first few times you screw up, but you keep doing the same thing and that inadvertent or thoughtless behavior eventually becomes deliberate. Example: If your sweetheart tells you that not calling when you promise to call is a no-no, somewhere about the tenth time you do it, your sweetheart will construe your behavior as deliberately inconsiderate and will stop forgiving you.

Little things count BIG time in every relationship. A forgotten promise to call, by itself, won’t destroy a relationship. The cumulative effect of many broken promises will. So pay attention to the little things, don’t rely on the good nature and generous heart of your sweetheart, and avoid doing those things for which you know you’ll need forgiveness. Then, when you do screw up, your sweetheart will be a lot more generous. And, your relationship will be a lot more intimate.

Your sweetheart’s forgiveness is a finite resource. Use it sparing.

Marriage: Is It Really Hard Work?

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

“Marriage is hard work.”  I think that’s a bunch of bologna. If I had said to Dale, “Honey, being married is going to require hard work, and lots of it,” he would have cut and run as fast as he could and who would have blamed him? Certainly not me. When I envision a great marriage, I don’t see a labor camp. So, I got to wondering why do we so often hear, even from relationship gurus, that a good marriage requires hard work. I’m thinking maybe couples are working hard on the wrong things. For instance . . .

Being right. Just as you can’t have over without under, up without down, cold without hot, or light without dark, you can’t be right without someone else being wrong. While there are things that, based on empirical evidence, are objectively right, I’m sorry to say that your opinion is not one of them. We all have opinions about virtually everything…the prettiest color for the bathroom…the superiority of cats over dogs (or vice verse)…the best team in football…the perfect recipe for mac ‘n cheese…what music is worth listening to, and so on ad infinitum.

And while it may be difficult, if not downright impossible, to believe that anyone would love eggplant, prefer beige to taupe, and think a day at the water park is as good as it gets, your partner has opinions, too. Expressing your opinion is easy. Listening to your sweetheart’s opinion is easy if not mind-boggling. So far, no hard work. It’s when you elevate your opinion to universally right and then try to convince your sweetheart that he or she is wrong that the going gets tough.

Differences are just that. Your sweetheart is not your clone. Get over it. If you insist of making differences matters of right and wrong, you’re going to be exhausted from the hard (and futile) work of convincing your sweetheart how right you are and how wrong he or she is. Worse, you’re going to be an irritating bore. It’s not necessary to reconcile all your differences to peacefully coexist. Really, it’s okay if you’re a Democrat and your sweetie is a Republican.  Where differences do have to be reconciled—yep, you do have to agree on what color to paint the bathroom—it’s just a matter of negotiation. And, come on, differences make life more interesting, don’t they? No matter how wonderful you are, would you really want to live with your mirror image?

Arguing about whether beige or taupe is “right” is not only a waste of time and exhausting, it plays havoc with intimacy. So, here’s the choice:

• Argue about who’s right until you run out of steam, one of you finally gives in, and end up sleeping back-to-back with a wall of ice between you, or
• Nix the argument, let your sweetheart “win” this one, pick up Frequent Foreplay Miles, and enjoy between-the-sheets and emotional intimacy.

If you want more intimacy in your relationship (and who doesn’t?), stop working hard on the wrong things.

More on this topic in future posts.  So, stay tuned!

Remarriage: The Blend Setting on the Cuisinart of Life

Sunday, November 1st, 2009

It’s been 10+ years since I did the remarriage thing. And I’ll admit it, I’m one of the lucky ones. Hubby Dale lived on a boat. He had nothing (I’m not kidding, nothing) to move into my house that I had decorated precisely to my taste. No recliner. No Elvis-on-Velvet art. Nada. All he asked was 3 feet of closet space. With some pushing and condensing I managed to squeeze out just about that much. And, he has no kids. Blending our lives was pretty simple. But for many couples, remarriage is all about blending. The kids. The finances. The pets. The former in-laws. All of that’s a breeze, however, compared to blending your stuff.

You’ve both got a house full of furniture, art, knickknacks, and–‘fess up–a ton of crap that by any standard belongs in a garage sale at best, more likely in the trash. But it’s your crap, thank you very much, and you’re attached to it: the molded-to-his-backside recliner with cup holder and duct-tape-repaired rip…the tattered-but-beloved bed canopy your great-grandmother crocheted in the previous century…the paint-by-number landscape your grown-up son did as a ten-year old…the ceramic frog collection you started as a kid that now occupies an entire bookcase. It’s no small task to find a place for all that stuff let alone tastefully mix early American milk glass with contemporary chrome ‘n glass.

Remarriage. Yep, it’s a challenge. It’s enough to make one seriously contemplate Katharine Hepburn’s approach. She said, “I often wonder whether men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.” I dunno, Katharine. Sharing the nest with your sweetheart is pretty darned nice. So, think of all that stuff-blending as an opportunity to score points (or what my hubby and I call Frequent Foreplay Miles). If you do, you’ll find yourselves each giving in a little and before you know it, you’ll have your cozy nest just the way it should be, recliner, ceramic frogs and all.

Intimacy: When Less is More

Friday, October 23rd, 2009

Hubby Dale and a guy friend sat on their boat knocking down a few beers and whiled away a lazy afternoon by listing body “ations”—urination, expectoration, perspiration, etc. I tried, but failed, to imagine doing the same with a girlfriend. We would identify the three most important “ations”—exfoliation, ovulation and menstruation, three these two geniuses missed—and then go shoe shopping.

Like it or not, “ations” are part of life. When you’re cheek by jowl it’s impossible to pretend, as you do in those early getting-to-know-each-other days, that you’re the only person on the planet who doesn’t experience them. At some point, one or the other of you will fart, belch, or leave the bathroom in need of fumigation. One bit of relaxed behavior leads to another and before you know it, you’re sharing—perhaps over-sharing—all those “ations.”

It’s not fair to stereotype but it seems to me that most guys never quite get over their middle-school fascination with body functions, especially flatulation and eructation (belching). There’s even a certain pride that some men take in “ations” as if the louder the belch or the more pungent the flatulence, the more manly they are. I. Do. Not. Get. It.

Okay, I admit it. I sometimes see the humor. Dale and I were at a Wednesday afternoon matinee, the favorite showing for folks from the retirement community. During a quiet moment Dale coughed so hard he ripped one. A really loud one. The elderly woman in front of Dale reached up and patted her head as if she feared the blast had dislodged her wig. We could not stop laughing and had to leave.

Then there’s grooming. In a perfect world, we’d all wake up as they do in the soaps—perfect hair, perfect make-up, no morning breath. You wouldn’t need to floss or brush your teeth, clip your toenails, exfoliate, mud pack, shave, or file your calluses. It’s soooooooooo not a perfect world.

I think most body functions and grooming should be done behind closed doors. Dale is more relaxed. I’m convinced he’d never seek privacy but for the fact that he reads on the john and doesn’t want to be disturbed. Oddly, the one thing that grosses him out is watching me put my contacts on. You may consider that as weird as I do, but it does demonstrate an important point. When it comes to body functions and grooming, it’s a good idea to know when you’re crossing your sweetie’s “that’s disgusting” line. We all have our quirks. Kathy is grossed out by teeth flossing, Elijah by ear wax on Q-Tips. I need complete privacy to groom my feet. Nail clippings make Rebecca want to hurl. Respect your sweetheart’s quirks and avoid the gross out.

It may be impossible to maintain the same level of propriety you would around a total stranger, but remember this: In an intimate relationship, there are times when less is more.

Celebrating with Champagne!

Wednesday, September 16th, 2009

For the last few days I’ve had this respiratory crud that last night erupted into one of those nasty coughs. So, today I stayed in bed. It was 9:30 a.m. and I was sound asleep when I heard glasses rattling. I awoke to find Dale heading for the bed with a tray of champagne and two glasses.  Also sitting on the tray was the very first printed edition of my book Frequent Foreplay Miles, Your Ticket to Total Intimacy. Was I dreaming? Was the cold medication making me hallucinate? Or, was it possible that, after all the work, it had finally become reality? “Is it here?” I asked. “It is,” he said, “and I am so proud of you!” What a guy, huh? Suddenly, my cold didn’t seem so bad and I was floating on cloud nine. I’ve never happier for a UPS delivery. Woo hoo!!!!!!!!!!

So, stayed tuned. Soon, you’ll be able to hold your edition, too.

Robin Wright Penn and Sean Penn: Irreconcilable Differences

Wednesday, August 19th, 2009

Robin Wright Penn and Sean Penn are once again in the California divorce system. That state has “no fault” divorce, though I think maybe it should be called “everyone’s at fault and there’s plenty of it to go around” divorce. Whatever. Point is, all you have to do is say you have irreconcilable differences and that’s the end of the story, at least as far as the judge is concerned. When I read the news blurb about the off-again Penn marriage, I wondered just what “differences” they have that are incapable of being “reconciled” such that their 20-year togetherness is kaput.

Seems to me that every couple has gazillions of differences they “reconcile” every day.  He’s a dog person, she’s a cat person. He loves eggplant, it makes her gag. She’s crazy about opera, he’s a heavy metal freak. He loves to camp, she’s afraid of bugs. His favorite TV show is demolition derby, hers is Days of our Lives. She loves to scrapbook, he’s into chain saw art. Differences. They make us interesting. And, they sometimes challenge us. She’s Catholic, he’s Jewish—how do you raise the kids? He’s believes in spanking, she doesn’t—how do you discipline the kids? She likes to travel, he’s a homebody—how do you spend vacation time? Challenging, yes. Irreconcilable, no.

So at what point do differences really become irreconcilable?  I think it’s the moment when you run out of the energy and desire it takes to do the hard work. There are times when you simply can’t do more, don’t want to do more, and just want out. I get it. I’ve been there. But let’s call a spade a spade, okay? Except in limited situations, e.g., where one  refuses to stop smacking the other one around or refuses to give up side nooky, when a couple splits based on “irreconcilable differences” it really means they simply gave up. Maybe this a distinction without a difference, I dunno. But I’m thinking that maybe more couples would go that extra mile to work it all out if, when contemplating divorce, they ask themselves, “Are our differences really irreconcilable, or are we quitting?” In my book, it’s okay to quit—no judgment from this quarter—but not to pretend that you’re movin’ on because your differences cannot be reconciled.

As for Robin and Sean, I wish them the best.

The Meltdown: Another Ticket to Marital Intimacy

Tuesday, August 18th, 2009

Hey, check out my just-published article.  Here’s an excerpt . . .

Things go wrong. The oven malfunctions, the appetizer burns, and your snooty in-laws arrive to a smoke-filled house. You’re leaving for your brother’s wedding and the baby throws up on the perfect silk dress you shopped for months to find. The flight home from the conference your boss made you attend is late. You miss your own birthday party.
A meltdown is yours to have. The sweetheart who wants to earn points (or what my hubby and I call Frequent Foreplay Miles) shows support with, “That really sucks!” and leaves you to rant ‘n rave until you realize you’ve crossed the line from justifiably upset to childish.

There are times, however, when the meltdown is up for grabs and goes to the first taker . . .

Read the entire article at DivaToolbox.com: The Meltdown: Another Ticket to Marital Intimacy

Creating Intimacy with a Beer Summit

Tuesday, August 4th, 2009

All this ballyhoo about four guys getting together to down a brew or two has got me thinking maybe they’re onto something. After all, Professor Gates and the guy who arrested him, Officer Crowley, now seem to be best buddies.

True, anyone who sits down with the prez (members of Congress excluded of course) is likely to behave. But I think it was the beer. Breaking bread or imbibing together is just so darned civilized. Think about it. What’s the first thing you do when someone comes to your home? Offer food and beverage, then sit down to polite conversation.

Hmmmmmm . . . here’s an idea: The next time you and your sweetie lock horns, try saying, “Honey, can I pour you a [insert beverage of choice]?” If a beer summit can bring arrestee and cop together, think what a Pinot Noir summit or a Dom Perignon summit can do for your marital bliss. Ah, the joys of make-up sex! As for me, a glass or two of the bubbly and I’m about as forgiving and willing (wink, wink) as I can get. Try it and lemme know how it works out for you.

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