Brave Enough To Be Bliss

Chapter 10 —Three’s Company

“Conflict in a relationship doesn’t necessarily mean you fight, argue, or disagree. Sometimes conflict can be a subtle disconnection, distance or even silence. Silence is one of the worst forms of conflict because you can feel powerless to do anything .” Jayson Gaddis We were a great family of three. My husband had thought he wanted at least two children and I had said I wanted one. Somewhere around her first birthday, he looked at me and said, “I think we’re good with one. What do you think? And of course, I said, “I think we’re good too.” And there was never another conversation about having another child. It was like that when we were planning the wedding, picking out something for the house, deciding how to parent, etc. We really did agree on most things and our disagreements were limited to my annual, then biannual, then quarterly blow ups. I avoided conflict as much as possible, so I just stuffed down most feelings of frustration, hurt, exhaustion, and worry. I would go on for as long as possible and then eventually something would happen and then all those feelings would come out at once with much more emotion than the current situation called for. I thought if you really loved someone there wouldn’t be any need to argue or disagree, so the very act of conflict signaled disaster in my mind. When Kylee started first grade, we moved to an area with an elementary and middle school right within the subdivision, and the high school was only a few blocks away. We wanted her to have lots of neighborhood kids to play with since she was an only child. I diligently read all the school communication, so I saw there would be a PTA meeting a few weeks after school started and I put it on my work calendar to keep it free. The night of the meeting, I planned for extra drive time in case there was still any traffic as I tried never to be late for anything, especially a first meeting of any kind. I knew some people ran late, but tha t wasn’t really acceptable for me. And while I tried not to judge people who were late, I really just didn’t understand it. How did it not bother them? I just couldn’t imagine how they wouldn’t feel awful about it and beat themselves up. That’s what I would have done, and I would have been so embarrassed. People would be looking at me if I walked in late, so that’s just not something I could let happen. And I knew fro m the first night of Kylee’s soccer practice that I wasn’t the only one who had to be on time. Her coach emphasized that practice would always start right at the scheduled time, and he put everyone on notice by saying, “If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late.” While I thought it was a bit intense for first grade soccer, I had that mindset anyway, so I understood. When I walked into the PTA meeting still dressed in my business suit having come straight from work, I immediately felt out of place. Whether they really were looking at me funny or I just imagined them to be, I was self- conscious and didn’t feel wanted there…at all. I would have liked to have gotten up and left as soon as I sat down. I don’t recall anyone speaking to me and of course, I didn’t start conversations unless it was a business setting and even then, it made me uncomfortable. But I tried to keep smiling and fortunately the meeting got underway pretty quickly. I don’t recall the specifics, but before long I started hearing comments that seemed negative about moms who worked outside the home. There was an explanation of the responsibilities of being a room mom and there was particular emphasis on how difficult it would be for anyone who worked outside the home to be a good room mom. Some had tried, but it just didn’t work well so it might be best if stay -at-home moms volunteered for those positions. And whether they really were or not, I felt all eyes were on me. There may have been other moms there who worked outside the home, but if so, they didn’t volunteer that information and they weren’t dressed like it.

I wanted to hide. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away. But I just sat there, as I had plenty of experience sitting still while quietly fighting back tears with a smile on my face. I had perfected the look. No one would have

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