It’s extremely easy to fall into a fight in even the most enlightened relationship.  My husband and I almost did it recently.  In fact, if you had been watching you might have called what happened a fight, or at least an argument….

To put this in proper perspective, you should know that we have been married for 48 years, and have been studying and teaching about relationships for over 35 years.

It Starts Innocently

It started innocently enough.  My husband Jon came into my office and said, “I’ve been invited to a meeting tonight.  I’m going to go, would you like to come along with me?”

I said, “Tell me more.”

Jon: “A friend told me he attended “x” workshop and came away feeling less guilty and pressured about getting stuff done.  You have been struggling with that, so I thought you might find it useful.”

Make Sure You’re Being Clear

I missed something in this exchange.  I’ve known about “x” workshop for a long time and have never been particularly interested in attending it. His comment was ambiguous, but I thought he was talking about the evening program. In his mind his invitation was about the workshop.

Me: “OK, I’ll come.”  I asked for details, and he gave me a location and starting time.  Both were very doable.  I asked about the ending time, he said he didn’t know.  He called to find out.  Later, he told me, “The meeting ends at 10: 45.  Maybe we should take both cars in case you want to leave early.”

Alleviate Confusion

Now, I was a little bit unsure about the meeting since I had been out late at night before but I didn’t say anything.  A little later, I overheard his end of a telephone conversation with our adult son. 

He talked about saving the workshop dates, because our son might like to attend with us.  At this point I was getting a little confused and suspicious.

Me: (later in his office).  “What is this about?  Are you planning on attending the workshop?”

Jon: “Well, my friend told me how much it changed since I was involved years ago.”

I was again beginning to feel angry because he didn’t actually answer my question.

Me: (impatient) “Tell me the whole thing.”

Jon: “I did.  I’m thinking about it.” 

Me: (Angrily — This Is The Part That Looked Like The Fight) “Tell me the whole thing, starting at the beginning.”

Jon: (defensively).  “Why are you mad at me?  I did tell you.”

Me: “No you didn’t.  If you had told me the whole thing you would have started with telling me that you were thinking about going to the workshop, instead of inviting me to attend the meeting.  What is this thing tonight anyway? Is it a preview for the workshop?”  (We both know that a preview is a sales presentation.).

Jon: “Well, my friend said they don’t pressure you anymore.  He said they’ve changed.”

Me: (I’m angry — he has SORT OF admitted that it’s a sales presentation.)  “I thought you said it was about helping me feel less pressured.”

Jon: (innocent).  “Why are you so angry?”

Me: “Because you’re not giving me the whole story straight — it’s coming out in pieces.”

I left his office telling him I would think about it.  This brief angry exchange could’ve turned into an ugly fight.  In fact it had all of the earmarks of one of the games described in Eric Berne’s classic book Games People Play.

The Games People Play….

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