In a world where regularity frequently traps us, I carefully plotted a getaway to re-establish a connection with the natural world and impart understanding and empathy to my wife, Valerie. But the result was nothing like I had anticipated.
Alan here, saying hello to all of you. I want to tell you about my wife Valerie and a strange yet interesting pattern I’ve seen over the years. Let’s go back to the beginning, though, first.
Valerie and I first spoke at an adult night Spanish class when she asked for a pen, not in a corny, Hollywood-style way. This brief encounter led to discussions, dinners together, and ultimately a close and loving bond. We eventually got married and were prepared to tackle life’s obstacles as a couple. Valerie made the decision to be a stay-at-home mother, a vocation she enthusiastically accepted, and I made a commitment to be her supporting spouse.
There is a catch to our idyllic household life, though. I have a tough job that occasionally interferes with my personal life and frequently demands more than the required 40 hours per week. Even yet, I always look forward to my vacation days since I consider them to be priceless opportunities to relax and rejuvenate. However, for some reason, Valerie becomes sick whenever I arrange a vacation.
This is a regular situation: Valerie would become sick unexpectedly the day before a planned staycation that we arranged months in advance, frequently leaving her bedridden and in need of care. I lost a lot of scheduled sleep because to this trend, and even though Valerie always appeared sincere in her apologies, I couldn’t help but feel angry and let down.
One one episode sticks out in particular: Valerie apologized sadly for spoiling yet another vacation day, appearing completely worn out and in agony. I could only console her, swallowing my disappointment as I took care of her.
I had to reconsider our circumstances after the most recent occurrence. When I got home, anticipating a few days off, Valerie was unable to move and blamed her acute backache on a hard day of cleaning. But when she was doing the children’s schoolwork, the truth unintentionally surfaced. Our daughter Emma casually revealed that, contrary to what she had claimed, her mother had spent the entire day online playing a farming game rather than cleaning.
This realization marked a sea change. Not only was it a day wasted on virtual farming, but I also saw a trend that made me wonder about the mechanics of our relationship. How could I not notice the signs? My own children had clearly set out the clues.
I decided to take a new approach and arranged another vacation, determined to deal with things without turning into a fight. In an attempt to stop Valerie’s unexplained health problems, I kept the specifics private. I kept my days off a secret from everyone, packing in private and leaving early in the morning without waking Valerie.
It was a glorious morning. It was a fresh, sunny day, a promising beginning to what would prove to be an incredibly tranquil fishing trip. Spending two days by myself in the company of nature restored my soul and provided me with much-needed clarity.
Valerie was robust and energetic when I got back, much the opposite of the frail condition she was frequently in before to my solo trips. But word of my covert retreat did not remain undetected. Valerie turned to face me, her expression pained and bewildered. “You went fishing, did you? for two days? With a hint of treachery in her voice, she questioned, “Without telling me?”
I made an effort to gently describe the circumstances in the hopes of expressing how deeply frustrated I was and how much I needed to live in peace. “Every time I take a vacation, Valerie, something happens to you and our plans get derailed. I said, “I needed this—to just be, without fretting or adjusting plans.
Emotions were up in the talk quite soon. Valerie started to cry, but these were tears of sincere sorrow rather than manipulation. “You choose to treat me as though I’m unimportant, then? As if I’m only a hindrance to your happiness?” she questioned, her voice cracking.
This was about understanding and ending a pattern that left us both exhausted, not about making a point or winning an argument. “No, it isn’t the case at all. I simply… I wanted you to know what it’s like to have plans abruptly altered. In an attempt to heal our differences, I answered, “Yeah, I wanted to find some peace, but not at your expense.”
We were at a standstill that seemed both unexpected and long overdue as we faced one other with a mixture of affection and perplexity. It was evident that although my quest for isolation had provided me with some momentary tranquility, it caused a chasm between us that would require cautious and thoughtful communication to heal.
After giving the subject some thought and expressing it here, I’m looking for guidance on the best course of action. Was my strategy incorrect? Is there a better method to make sure that our demands are addressed without causing conflict and to communicate? As I work through these difficult issues, I appreciate your advice and ideas and hope to find a solution that will strengthen rather than further strain our marriage.