Tag: marriage

I once worked with a couple who met when they were “WWOOFers” in New Zealand. These are people who travel around the world working on organic farms. This couple was united by their commitment to organic foods, sustainable practices, and creating a community of like-minded people. They felt they were soulmates meant to be together. 

When we first meet someone—especially when in the temporary glow of surging love hormones—we are primed to notice all the ways we are alike, which creates a confirmation bias. We look for evidence to support this bias. We read the same favorite books as kids, have the same favorite films, and even both prefer New York-style pizza—certainly a “sign.” All soulmate proof, for sure.

What this couple didn’t talk about was how they wanted to live in the country, how the vegetables, herbs, and flowers would be arranged, and the ways they were going to manage the farm. They each had a different image in their heads, while speaking of what seemed a common dream.

By the time they came to my office, they were arguing about everything. Where they had once seen only similarities, all they saw were differences in pest management strategies and how to improve the soil. She wanted a farm where all the flowers, fruits, and vegetables intertwined (“intercropping”) and were planted among one another; he wanted strong lines separating each crop from the other.

This divide showed up when they started to create their dream and discovered how different it looked to each of them. She had imagined working in a day job nearby and employing local people to do a lot of the labor; he saw them each in their overalls digging in the dirt together, dreamily watching the tomatoes grow and the bees buzz happily.

They came to counseling to communicate better, but what each was really looking for was a chance to prove that their way was the right one. They each admitted to feeling misled by their partner in their early dreaming, but it wasn’t betrayal.

According to Regina Lark Ph.D., organization expert and author of Emotional Labor: Why a Woman’s Work is Never Done and What To Do About It, chores can become a source of conflict in relationships for a number of reasons.

For one thing, especially if you’re in a cis-het relationship, traditional gender roles around “women’s work” are still incredibly pervasive, with many of us subconsciously holding a belief that it’s the woman’s job in the relationship to manage the household—cooking, cleaning, taking care of the kids, keeping track of everyone’s calendars, the list goes on…and on and on.

And not only does that list go on, but so many parts of it are effectively invisible. Sure, one could argue that it’s not difficult to remember to pick up a birthday card, or sweep the kitchen after dinner, for example, but the mental and emotional labor that goes into keeping track of all these “little things” adds up to one person feeling like the CEO of their own home, while the other remains largely unburdened.

As Lark explains, acknowledgement of the volume of work, then, is so important, “because unless you understand what that work entails, you’ll never understand why there even needs to be a discussion.” She adds that without that understanding, it’s all too easy for resentment and anger to seep into your relationship.

On a trip to Mexico a few years ago, I was walking from one building to another when I saw a creature off in the distance that looked like a horse. Curious but unbothered, I continued my approach. As I got closer though, I realized I was actually about 20 feet away from a very large cougar.

The cougar looked directly at me, and I looked at the cougar. My mind went blank, and my body began to move on its own. Without thought I began to slowly, quietly step backwards toward a nearby building. Only once I safely closed the door behind me did I start shaking and fully registering what had just happened.  

This is exactly what happens when we’re in the red zone. Your partner comes to you with a question or concern—“Did you forget to pick up the groceries?” or “Why didn’t you tell me my sister called and wanted me to call her back right away?”—and suddenly, to your brain, they’re the cougar.

Our neurobiological reaction to perceived threats (physical or psychological) is to enter a state of fight or flight. Our heart rate spikes, our muscles tighten, and our focus narrows. That narrowed focus is the critical piece here: As the cougar approaches, I don’t wonder why the cougar is there. I don’t register if it appears to be young or old, perceive the beauty of its fur coat, or consider whether it’s actually likely to attack me. I am not thinking at all. I am fully in fight-or-flight. 

While this response helped our ancestors escape real physical dangers, in today’s world it can make it hard to navigate stressful conversations with anything other than lashing out or defensiveness. Our ability to see the big picture and the details vanish when we’re in this state, as do any of those non-native communication techniques we read about on the internet that one time.

Think of the human brain as being divided into different parts. There’s the modern, more developed part of the brain that’s able to handle complex ideas and emotions, perceive nuance, and process new information within the broader context. Then there’s the older part of the brain, which is sometimes referred to as reptilian. When this more primitive part of the brain takes over, all inputs boil down to one question: Are you going to eat me, or am I going to eat you? 

There is no creativity. There is no empathy. There is no problem-solving. There is only fighting, or escape.  

That’s the red zone.