The settings dial of a washing machine. The dial is chrome and the photographer's reflection is shown at the center of the dial.

Marital Dispute – You Don’t Have to Understand Me to Honor Me

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One thing G-Man and I can’t seem to see eye to eye on is laundry. Actually, to be more specific, it’s really only my laundry that we don’t see eye to eye on. Because I have a certain way I like to fold, hang and sort my belongings, my Micromanaging Recovery Plan has taught me that this is a task I should do myself (instead of expecting someone else to do it my way). This makes absolutely no sense to my husband. So, even after decades of appeals, he still occasionally “helps out” by popping my dirty clothes in with his. I’m left bewildered.

The other day he finally said to me, “It’s just never going to make sense to me that you wouldn’t want someone to do your laundry for you.” And there it was. Right before my eyes. The crux of the issue. As we all know, it’s never about the laundry, or the dishwasher, or the garbage. What was waiting for us underneath this wash-bin? Honor.

The thing is, my need doesn’t have to make sense to G. I don’t have to make sense. Now, if my request affects someone else, I completely support taking time to further clarify. But if what I believe, or how I like something done, has little to no impact on someone else, you don’t have to understand me to honor me.

I actually have gratitude for this marital squabble. I needed to be on the frustrating side of this exchange to truly see it. It’s only taken a few shrunken sweaters and some wrinkled shirts to connect to this critical understanding of honor that was missing in my relationships. This taught me that, while it may be incredibly challenging at times, the most meaningful time to honor is not when I agree with someone, but when I don’t.

Thanks for another life lesson, G-Man. Mission accomplished. Now you can really stop doing my laundry.



Laundry casualty this time? My favorite cardigan is now permanently stained with tomato sauce because my plan was to soak it before washing it and I never got the chance.

It’s like I always say, You can lead a horse to a blog post, but you can’t make him stop doing your laundry.

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    Welcome to my blog! Here you can read about what’s on my mind as I try my best to recover from screaming at my kids and nagging the bejesus out my husband.

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