Mr. Fix-It

I’m a Talker.  My husband, like most men, is a Fixer.

Let me explain…

{credit: Charles & Hudson}

Having discovered the wonders of therapy at a youngish age, and having spent one whopping semester as a psych major (I switched after deciding that Spanish Literature and Language would be oh so much more relevant to my daily life), I am definitely a gal that likes to vent.  While I’m not usually a whiner (at least, I hope I’m not), when I’ve had a hellacious day or something is truly bothering me, I like to come home, pour myself a glass of wine, and emote.

One of the perks of this whole “marriage deal” is having someone legally required to listen to your rants… or so I thought.  These days, its seems like I’m only a fourth of the way through my list of “Ways the World Wronged Me” before Evan has “A Plan.”  Then, all of a sudden, I’m updating my resume or signing up for a boot-camp or contributing more to my 401k, when all I really wanted to do was some cathartic bitching.

This is an interesting roll reversal as I am the one with the umpteen To-Do Lists and the calming yogi breathing exercises and the color-coded calendar and the “put on your big-girl panties and deal with it” attitude.  But sometimes those big-girl panties get a little snug and I just need to talk (and talk and talk) about it.  And that’s the point at which I feel like chucking my stemless wine glass at My Husband The Fixer’s noggin.

Don’t misunderstand – I appreciate the fact that I have someone who cares about me enough to want to make all my problems disappear.  And I realize that (infuriatingly) Evan’s almost always right – I would feel better if I did X, Y, or Z.  Additionally, I know from the grander, sociological (my other major – um, again, so incredibly useful) scheme of things, most decent men tend to be solution-oriented – so I can’t fault the Hubs for taking up the Fixer Man Mantle.

So what of my need to verbally dissect life’s little hiccups?

Long (Preachy, Self-Help) Answer: I’m discovering more every day that I’m a much happier person and a much better companion if I don’t expect my spouse to be everything I need all the time.

Short Answer: That’s what girlfriends and half-priced bottles of champagne are for!