I hope to dedicate most Fridays to our version of throwback Thursday. Please share a freaky passive aggressive Friday story here! We can laugh and cry together!
A poster/blogger, paescapee, left this comment: “My pah worked late on my birthday- so what? Is that abuse? But he did it for four years despite only working late three or four times a year for the rest of the year. How could I explain that?”
Naturally she doesn’t even have to explain it here, but I’m sure we all have our own stories of the little stuff that sounds like we’re complaining about a tiny grain of sand to an outsider. The outsiders have never tried to put their feet into shoes entirely filled with sand.
One early summer day several years ago when I was trying to start up walking daily before supper (after being a depressed lethargic winter potato). It was one of my son’s birthday that day, and he’d requested that I make his favorite creamed salmon over biscuits. It was the usual busy day, and I was watching the clock and thinking that I wouldn’t have time to walk that day. My husband came in the kitchen and offered to finish watching the pot of creamed salmon (needed just intermittent stirring to finish) and biscuits in the oven. I was surprised by his offer, and said that he’d need to babysit the pot and stir often, and listen for the oven timer for the biscuits, so I’d completely understand if he didn’t want to do all that. He said, “Oh no problem! I won’t let it burn! Don’t worry! I don’t want you to miss your walk. Go on your walk and enjoy yourself!”
Surprised but happy, I went on the walk. You all know what happened? I cut my walk short midway because I felt uneasy. When I came back in the kitchen, the son who requested it for his birthday was frantically stirring the scorched sauce, and the biscuits were burned. I asked where his father was, and he said that his father told him he had to do something outside. I tried to salvage the dinner the best that I could, and then looked for my husband. He was outside doing some random non-critical thing in the garden.
Of course, trying to ask my passive aggressive husband why he said one thing and did another, turned into a gaslighting accusation turd flinging fest.
In hindsight, his words were supportive of my walking/exercising to get healthier. His behavior looked more like discouragement of my efforts towards my well-being.
Telling someone that he intentionally burned a dinner while I was walking would only make me look like a schlump that was adding extra burden to a nice guy husband so I could have leisure time, and then nagging because he didn’t know how to cook it properly. IF you try to explain the true whole story, their brain shuts down and tends to view you as a paranoid, nitpicking shrew. Because no normal person would do that, so it’s easier to believe I’m a critical demanding nag than to believe someone would intentionally sabotage and gaslight.
I think I would have learned faster if it wasn’t all so ludicrously unreasonable, irrational, and hard to wrap my brain around.