I made a bold and daring confession to my teen and my, um ex-husband, or, er, boyfriend in one of those we-are-really-happy-to-be-a-family-again moments:
I’m guilty of being a controlling person. I had some idea of how we should all live our lives and what we should have looked like as a family and I tried to force that to happen. I always said I was being controlled but really I was the one who was controlling.
They both simultaneously gave me the same “Really?” look (you know, chin down, eye brows raised, mouth open…). I looked back and forth at them for a minute, waiting for a response until my teen finally says with her best teen voice, “You’re just now figuring that out? Wow, mom.”
Humph. I was expecting shock and disbelief, followed by a chorous of "No! That's not true. You are wonderful and not controlling at all. In fact, you should be more controlling just to be normal."
After some awkward silence, my ex pipes in: “Thank you for saying that. We both have our faults and have done harm to our marriage. We are both guilty of a lot stuff and we have both grown a lot lately.”
Sometimes growth is unflattering. But, I suppose worth it.
