Clutching Your Pearls: Learning WHEN to say what you want to say

Two married years ago:

I was bursting with excitement. I made brownies, put a pot of coffee on, and anxiously checked the street a million times to see if his car was coming up. Nope – just the mail man. Andrew was due home ANY minute and I couldn’t wait to tell him my news! Waiting and waiting and waiting some more; but then! FINALLY. My hard working husband pulled into the driveway and I didn’t let his hand touch the knob before I threw open our front door. Grinning from ear to ear and clearly glowing I demanded, “GUESS WHAT!” Without waiting for an answer, “My parents are hosting our entire family, spouses, kids and all, for a vacation family reunion on a resort lake next summer!!”

Then came a flat response, “That’s great, Babe.”

Stepping aside as he shuffled in, my face fell in disappointment. No enthusiasm or hint of surprise in his voice, not even a smile or a look up to take in my own enthusiasm. I dressed up my news even more with the litany of fun activities we were in for – boating, swimming, shopping, fishing – but just got a “Yeah, sure. I bet it’ll be fun.” Then I got defensive. In my mind, a big vacation reunion like this was over-the-top thrilling since I rarely see my family – a brother and his family in Alaska, my sister and her family along with my parents in Nebraska. This would be the chance of a lifetime and my sweet husband’s ho-hum reaction went from disappointing to offensive in a split second.

What I failed to recognize was that my timing was poor. Little did I know (because I hadn’t given him the chance to say) that Andrew had a terrible day at work and though he was genuinely looking forward to next summer’s holiday, he really wasn’t feeling up to giddy giggles and brownies.

Situations like this had happened a million times before, whether I had something fun to share or a concern to mull over, I often found Andrew’s reactions to be different from my hopes; thusly leading to a defensive attitude and hurt feelings on my part or even an occasional argument between us. I wondered if he cared about what I cared about or even if he cared that I cared about something. Doubts and defense are never a good combination.

The problem was that I was reckless with my news, my thrill that was so important and exciting to me. When I’m pumped about something, I hope to get an equally enthusiastic reaction from my husband – supportive and happy with me and for me, and when I’m troubled, I want comfort in my anxiety; but my previous approach didn’t lend itself to such high hopes.

And then I read Matthew 7:6:

“Do not give dogs what is holy; and do not throw your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under foot and turn to attack you.”

Now, this verse immediately applies to much more significant matters than my bubbling over with excitement or preoccupied with concern, but I realized that in my situation, the concept applied. Whatever is important to me to share I consider my pearls, so to speak, and instead of tossing them around risking them being trampled, I’m much more cautious. {PLEASE NOTE: I am not calling my husband a pig.} If there’s something on my mind – joy, sorrow, concern, or anything else – I now wait until I know it will be validated. Sometimes Andrew or any other friend or family member cannot offer the reaction or support I’m seeking at the very moment I’m seeking it; and so I’ve learned not to ask until the time is right. If it’s joy, I’ll wait to see that Andrew is at least content in disposition or if it’s bad news, then I give him a chance to decompress from the day before I drop a bomb.

While it’s fitting for sharing good news or voicing concern, I think another well-suited occasion for clutching your pearls is in corrective discussion. Let’s say Andrew takes issue with the fact that I occasionally and absent-mindedly leave food out to spoil instead of putting it back in the fridge (this may or may not be true): listening to him voice his grievance is not the time to bemoan a behavior in him or to get defensive and unleash any sort of bitterness. If I have something to say on that count, then I wait until the right moment to charitably say it, but I’ve learned the hard way to avoid doing so in the middle of tension.

The whole situation is yet another lesson in humility; rather than insisting that I be heard above anything or anyone else, I’m learning to let others go first. I’m learning to take interest in the thoughts and lives of others before eagerly sharing my own. This is most certainly a difficult challenge for my extroverted self and a real process; I’m sure one I’ll endure as long as I live.