Follow-on to Counseling 31

I got a comment from Janeway on my account of our most recent counseling session, as follows:

If Wife's upbringing was anything like mine - in which being "wrong" always drew negative consequences - then being acknowledged to be "right" is just as important as actually being "right". It's not about you. It's about her need to feel safe from bad consequences, and her need to build back up the bits of her ego (for lack of a better word) after its having been assaulted by your accusations.

And, from your perspective, if the substance of the original argument is immaterial to you, then it follows that it would make no difference to you one way or the other to tell Wife that you were wrong to accuse her in the first place. So why not do it?

Perhaps because it's really not immaterial?

I was planning out in my mind how to answer this question, and I had pretty much settled on writing a long, careful analysis of exactly what goes on in my head during these arguments. My plan was to show that no, in this case it doesn't quite work out the way Janeway suggests, for the following subtle reasons. In other words, it was going to be a whiny self-justification, cleverly disguised as a careful, probing self-analysis. But some time before I wrote it, I happened to tell D about the feedback I had gotten from Janeway. The very next morning (today, in fact) I awoke to an e-mail from D that ran, in part, as follows:

My dearest darling,

You have a valuable friend, because she is willing to confront you when you need to corrected.

I don't need to appreciate Wife's childhood to understand that when she is right, she should receive that recognition. There is real and significant difference between the mode of transmission and the message itself. You were wrong in both aspects here, and honesty demands you recognize that fact....

Sometimes I think understanding someone's background just clouds the issue. If you had done this, for example, to my daughter, who had a decent childhood, you would be equally responsible for acknowledging the entire truth and for apologizing for both wrongs. You don't apologize [just] to make someone feel safe.... You apologize because you were wrong. What you should have demanded at Counselor's is the understanding that once an apology is made, that's the end of the matter....

There is a tissue of lies in your relationship with Wife -- hers about you on so many issues -- that makes it almost inconceivable for you to tell the truth and voluntarily give up some of your power and control. Better to apologize for yelling and not for making a mistake in content. But the issue will never be defused without a full apology. It's not that the issue is vital, but your unwillingness to admit your mistake is important. Essentially, you are making Wife wrong, which is a neat turn, but you won't be able to get away with it. You are saying, "I'd apologize to you, but if I do, you'll just bring the issue up again , so I won't say I'm sorry." All you can do is simply apologize. You have no control over what she does with your words. If she "build up her ego" with your apology, fine. If she ignores it and still treats you poorly, you have still done the right thing. and that's all you can do. That's all anyone can do, and it's enough, because it frees your spirit from wrongdoing.

I never said apology is easy. But apology must be thorough, which is why I tend to craft my apologies very carefully. They involve justice...(Counselor is wrong about this aspect being secondary; a moment's reflection will make that clear)...and they bring me face to face with God. For when I apologize to a person well, I have begun to cultivate the ground for a new beginning, for a more productive relationship with that person. I've owned my responsibility for the break in our understanding and commitmernt, and I've opened the door to forgiveness. Since Wife must learn to forgive if she is to be forgiven, why not help her learn how to do so?

I suppose I should be grateful to have friends who are so concerned with bringing out the best in me. Sometimes I think life would be a little easier if more of my friends were interested in seeing the worst of me instead, but I suppose after a while that would get old.

Doesn't make it easy, however ....