My hubby is a gifted java developer. He spends a lot of his time developing websites and applications. This requires an astounding amount of logic as the work is quite methodical. His attempts to educate me on SQL, JAVA, POM have been returned with squirms of boredom and many ‘what was that’ facial expressions. He is Mr Logic and I am Mrs Emotional. I work from home and struggle to remain focused as I tend to do the work I only ‘feel’ like doing. My hubby has threatened many times to block my laptop from accessing a certain social networking site but it has not deterred me. He struggles to understand how I have such a fluid approach to work and I struggle to understand how he can be so structured. We have had many arguments as my fluid approach can be both gentle and volatile. My emotions are on the surface whereas his seem to be buried near to the core of the earth.

‘You’re just being emotional’.

A familiar sentence, rolled off the tongues of husbands universally. That phrase is used by my hubby when I have turned into the emotional hulk. His words would be like pouring petrol on a blazing fire. He’d be as cool and collected whilst he watched me spin into a burning tornado. I found it difficult to understand why he couldn’t just meet me where I was. Sure his answers or suggestions were usually right (annoyingly) but couldn’t he have approached with more care? Couldn’t he have met me where I was emotionally first; agreeing and empathising with me BEFORE hurling logic at me!

My hubby is not alone in his approach. The majority of men are logical. It’s as if they are given a logic handbook whilst in the comfort of their mother’s womb to study. They get from A to B in a straight line whereas women seem to take a more scenic route, discovering the shoe outlet along the way. I have seen men roll their eyes at the sight of women crying or completely confused as per what brought the outburst.

Their logical thought process makes them natural problem solvers. Note to yourself, that if you go to a man with an issue or problem, he will have some form of solution for you. Of course there are the exceptions but most men see an issue and automatically become bob the builder. It is an amazing quality, one that I appreciate.

I have found in my experience that most men only share their problems if they feel that you are going to solve it. This is where women get frustrated when their husbands withdraw or walk around as though everything is fine, even if they are residing in a nuclear war. Men withdraw most times to create a solution to a problem. If my hubby has an issue with a project that he is doing, he doesn’t necessarily feel like chatting about who stole our parking space or which cat stared at me funny. Neither does he want to have a ‘sharing’ moment. He needs head space to work through all avenues so that he can come to discuss the problem as well as the solution. This takes ounces of patience and a paradigm shift. I had to realise that I did not married a male version of me, he does not reason the way I do. It is unlikely that he will set up an msn group chat with his buddies to reason his way through issues. That’s not to say he does not value my input, he does. But I am learning not to go into any discussion with a canon full of emotional opinions as it is often not needed and totally misunderstood. It is better to wait for an invitation to share my thoughts. This way he doesn’t feel disrespected or threatened. He will also feel as though I have thoroughly thought about his decision and that I am on his page.

I am also learning how to articulate and communicate my feelings as thoughts rather than feelings. I tried for a little while to listen to conversations I had with some of friends and concluded that we had a unique way of communicating our thoughts and feelings. My best friend and I understand each other so well, it often surprises us. I always wondered why and have come to understand that it is because we have perfected our language. I know that when she says ‘I am feeling like..’ she is exposing her thought process. I know that I would need to acknowledge those feelings. Note that I did not say accept because not every feeling\emotion ought to be demonstrated. I made the mistake of trying to use the same language to my husband but it felt as though he would ignore the wounds that had penetrated my pulsating heart and simply solve the problem. He would get very frustrated that I did not accept his polished answer that he had proudly formed to make me feel better. I wouldn’t feel any better after speaking to him and on occasion an argument would form based on his reaction rather than focusing on the issue. After a few repeats of this emotional and logical roller coaster, I realised something would have to change – me.

I am changing to catch up to my logical husband. I try to use words like ‘I think’ where I used to say ‘I feel’. It’s a very simple trick and it causes me to formulate more constructive and logical sentences. For instance ‘I feel as though you are not spending enough time with me, you’re neglecting me’ becomes ‘Honey, I think that we ought to spend more time together. We have both been working hard this week.’ By using the word ‘we’ I am also accepting some responsibility which means I am not pointing fingers. Accusations don’t go down very well as they tend to evoke a defensive response. My accusations have always had a boomerang effect which meant I always had to do the grovelling.
I am also trying to get a handle on my emotions by taking time out to reason through my feelings. I hold regular court hearing in the recesses of my mind to assess whether my feelings and thoughts are valid. These brief few moments have made me realise that I can be quite irrational and has forced me to starve my emotions from the air of expression.

In my newlywed voyage, I have come to accept that being emotional is not a bad thing. A world totally void of emotion is like watching TV in black and white. Sure you can bear it but imagine how much more interesting the program would be with greens and purples. I have warmly embraced my emotions but I am learning to work through them – ‘logically’.

By: Susan Emina

My hubby asked me to write about my journey from MISS to MRS. I immediately dismissed the idea as I had about a million other things I wanted to write about and that topic seemed to come much further down on my list of urgency. I smiled sweetly like only wives do when we pretend to agree and we are trying to mask an internal rebellion. I had already decided about this week’s entry and had in fact penned the opening paragraph. But when my husband asked me later on in the week for my feedback on his projects, I noticed how eager he was to understand my points so that he could put it into work. Convicted by the respect my hubby gave me, I took pen to paper, fingers to keyboard and set to work. Today, my birthday I really entered the cinematic world of my mind and screened my final year as M.I.S.S.

Enter MISS me, my afro head far too inflated with marriage theories to allow me through my single friends front doors. This time last year, I had read up on all I thought there was to know about courtship and marriage. I had a tower of books erected beside my bed that was my gateway to marital bliss. I had appointed myself the relationship counsellor to all those around me, my best friend called me the courtship cop! I would sit for hours understanding the mechanics of men and women, their purpose in each other’s lives and would shake my head in disapproval at anyone who went against my courtship commandments. My behaviour and actions weren’t as helpful as I had intended and I want to take this opportunity to apologise to everyone I may have offended. I have come to understand that true wisdom does not need a fanfare when it arrives. Wisdom needs no introduction or announcements. It is observed by those around you without a lecture, a breakdown of a scripture or the 10 key steps to courtship paradise. I knew little if anything at all then, it was a good foundation but since when did reading the highway code prepare you for changing gears or driving on the motorway.

I have taken time to observe the lives of the wives around me and realised that they lived quite a different life according to the chronicles of wifedom I had played in my mind. I took a deeper look at my character when I started my marriage and realised I had got a lot of things fundamentally wrong. I began to deconstruct the pillars of knowledge I had on the inside of me and decided to become an ambassador for love. This does not mean I put on a maxi dress, wear flowers in my hair and sing ‘love and peace to all ’, it has become more of a personal journeyto speak love louder than any theory, latest revelation or scriptural dissection.

I had never really had much respect for patience; I needed answers last week, success yesterday and the future 60 minutes ago. The last 365 days have taught me something surprising – things don’t always happen when I think they ought to. Wow, what a revelation! It seemed that my husband had been assigned as my own personal tutor for patience. I soon became tired of flying off the handle if he didn’t reply to an urgent email regarding the wedding colours or if bridesmaids were reluctant to rehearse their all important entry. I admit I do like to have an element of control in my life but I am learning that I do not hold time. It seems so basic but, I realise now that is better to go with the natural flow of things than to force timing to match with your emotions. As cliché as it sounds, some things are worth the wait. I have not quite mastered this eight lettered phenomena, I still take a number of deep breaths and resist the urge to turn into the incredible hulk some times. It seems the more I pray for patience, the more opportunities that seem to come my way for me to exercise it. I believe patience is not just the ability to wait but to also maintain your composure and positive attitude irrespective of the timing. It’s extremely difficult at times especially if you have strong opinions like I often do, holding back can feel as though you are losing a part of who you are.But it is importanant at those times to remind yourself that end goal is not to win the argument but it is to resolve it so that both parties can continue in love.

By listening to my internal thought process I can sort through my emotions and try to make my thoughts logical, if I can’t make sense of what I am feeling then usually it means it’s not worth fussing over. My hubby is not a mind reader so unless I speak logic and reason to him, we will both be intimate strangers. Now when he is in cyber world and I want him to look at the latest Jimmy Choo’s I realise that it is not because he doesn’t care but that he is speaking with gigabytes, html, xml, POM and Choo’s just don’t fit in.

I had an incredible knack of turning quite simple tiffs into mountainous arguments that would stretch the entire day. My repertoire of arguments ranged from heated discussions in oxford circus over the colour of grooms men’s ties, whose turn it was to drive on a winters day and a pair of newly acquired boots. Naturally the arguments would start over these little things but my mind had a wonderful way of connecting other completely unrelated issues to form a way of sticky issues. My sweet hubby with a bemused expression on his face, would wonder how we had escalated from the colour of ties to discussing his commitment to our pending wedding. Over the course of the year I have learnt to select my arguments well. It is not every matter that requires a board meeting with your subconscious taking minutes for later reference. Life is too short to argue over boots that’s what receipts are there for; take them back or apologise and put them on!

This day last year I was seated opposite my hubby, then fiancé. He had been a little late to meet with me which just seemed to make my already disappointing birthday worse. I love birthdays; the cheesy cards and the copious amounts of cake. Last year, things were a little different. I had been at work all day so there were no cheesy cards until later on in the evening when I met with my hubby. The anger and upset welled up inside of me and no matter how I tried to resist it, the familiar warmth of my tears rolled against my cheek.

‘What’s wrong?’ my hubby asked. Anxious that perhaps his present wasn’t as great as I had insisted it was.

‘Nothing.’ I mumbled.

Wiser than I thought at the time, my hubby persisted. ‘What’s wrong?’

I threw a tantrum about my birthday, things hadn’t gone the way I was used to. Where were the balloons, the excited faces and the birthday girl attention? How could I have a birthday without renditions of Steve Wonder ‘happy birthday’ recitals! I had spent the majority of the day with work colleagues who didn’t understand my rich traditions. If this M.R.S. could see that M.I.S.S. she would slap that M.I.S.S into reality, the earth and the planets do not revolve around me. As much as I cringe over my past behaviour I realise now that it was just a stepping stone to bring me to where I am today. After all patience can never be perfected without a circumstance for it to work its way through.