Do you remember playing hide-and-go-seek? I especially liked hiding: the rush of having a secret and the excitement building until I was finally found. One time when I hid in my dad's tool shed, it took so long to find me that I thought they'd actually given up. Have you noticed that we sometimes hide in our marriages, too?Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen. -- Brene Brown
This can come from painful memories of not feeling accepted by a peer or a parent. For me, the hiding started early. I think I was drawn to hide-and-seek because I sometimes felt unsafe where I grew up. Then I left home and went searching for love in all the wrong places. By the time I was nineteen, I already felt damaged by bad relationships and wrote a poem about being seen. The last lines were:
No man can see you. Nobody knows.
That was how I felt: like no man would ever really love me or know me. At the age of 19, I made an unconscious decision that a relationship where I was loved and accepted was impossible. Many of us have forgotten the wounds of our childhood until marriage forces the need for intimacy upon us, and we are suddenly reminded that closeness was never safe for us.
And it's not just the distant past that influences our ability to connect with our spouse. It is also our present relationship. When our partner fails to listen or, even worse, gets angry or defensive, we want to shut it down and pull our turtle shell around us. We may use jokes to hide the pain or be drawn to addictions, big and small, to escape, like screens, alcohol, food, or even a respectful hobby.
And to make things even messier, our spouse is often unwittingly playing his own version of the hiding game. This can create a complicated ritual where both parties dance around the heart of the matter, too scared to take a chance and share the truth of who they are.
A Way Out
But fighting against our desire to be hidden and protected is a strong desire to be noticed and understood: to be considered significant. We long for that from the one person who vowed to love us for the rest of our lives. When our relationship doesn't allow vulnerability, we may be tempted to look elsewhere to meet our needs. That is why I believe it is vitally important to push through to discover ways to become more open with our spouse.
One small shift which can make a difference is to first slow down and become aware of your own feelings. Admit to yourself what's bothering you instead of trying to hide it from yourself. That sounds simple, but it's not always easy to acknowledge that a situation in our life is bothering us. We can get so used to hiding our needs from the world and our partner that we learn to hide them from ourselves, too.
The next step out of the hiding pattern is to share something you usually don't with your partner. Start with a feeling you don't usually talk about: how you are struggling at work or sad about missing a friend. Share freely but with one important qualification: do so without blaming your spouse in any way. Don't say, "I have been so sad about missing my friend, and you've never even noticed." Blaming in any way can come across as an attack.
I used to be so afraid to share myself with my husband when I was depressed because I didn't want to bother him. My negative emotions felt embarrassing, and I wanted to be a loving wife who wouldn't drag him down. So I held it in for a long time, until I finally asked him if I could talk, just to vent—not to have it solved. We started doing this slowly, with caution, while he listened.
And it made all the difference in the world. After getting it out of my mind and into the world, sometimes I start to see ideas for making it better. He knows why I've been acting a bit distant lately. He feels better, too, because he understands more about where I'm at and doesn't think the distance is because I don't care.
My husband shares more often now, too, often just before he goes to sleep. A casual comment about work unfolds into much more. I have learned that the most offhand remark, which at first seems like small talk, often leads to a deeper revelation about what is on his mind. Listening to the seemingly inconsequential remark and treating it with dignity creates a safe environment to share more.
And it made all the difference in the world. After getting it out of my mind and into the world, sometimes I start to see ideas for making it better. He knows why I've been acting a bit distant lately. He feels better, too, because he understands more about where I'm at and doesn't think the distance is because I don't care.
My husband shares more often now, too, often just before he goes to sleep. A casual comment about work unfolds into much more. I have learned that the most offhand remark, which at first seems like small talk, often leads to a deeper revelation about what is on his mind. Listening to the seemingly inconsequential remark and treating it with dignity creates a safe environment to share more.
Even now, I challenge my husband when it seems he doesn't really know me, but it is so much better now than when we first married. Sometimes I look at him in amazement when he does something that shows he does knows me. And he listens. And sees me, with all my messy imperfection. If you want to be seen more in your relationship, I encourage you to try just one small act of sharing. One little sentence may just be the start of a journey toward being more seen.
When that feeling creeps up now, I try to stretch by sharing something vulnerable even if it's not THE most pressing thing I'm chewing on. We both kinda need warm-up time!
I totally get how living in a small space made it harder to share sometimes. And that's so awesome that you have learned to be more open. I love that you share just something, not feeling pressure to share the most important thing you are feeling. Have a wondeful weekend!