Don’t be the other woman

The brain has an amazing ability to protect itself. Wounds from our childhood can cause us to hemorrhage unless our brain stops the bleeding. It does this by blocking out all traumatic memories. My brain has taken the opposite approach, however. It can recall in the greatest detail good and bad events from my childhood. Even though I was not quite talking, I can recall my favorite dress, the shabby playhouse in our backyard and even the toys I loved. Those were all pleasant memories. But I also remember the not-so-pleasant ones: those are the details my brain will not let me forget.

Around the age of nine, I spent an enjoyable day at the fair with my parents. As we were leaving, a young, beautiful brunette ran up to my dad and threw her arms around him. My dad graciously accepted the hug. He was good-looking, with a bright smile and charming ways; these qualities made him very attractive to women. The woman was flirtatious and wasn’t as excited to meet my mother or my dad’s three children. This seemingly minor event caused a major argument. My parents fought for the full forty-five-minute drive home and well into the night. This was not the first time a woman had been overly friendly with my dad, and not the last time my mom would be jealous.

I know my dad was not innocent in this situation. He loved to add to my mom’s insecurities. She accused him of cheating, though he denied it. This was the same argument, just a new woman. But this one event shaped who I am today. As a young girl, I decided I would never want to be the cause of such intense jealousy, or damage someone else’s marriage. The unknown woman probably never realized the uproar she had caused. I came to understand that when you’re married there is no such thing as “innocent flirting.”

As a wife, I have an even deeper appreciation for women who don’t flirt with my husband, but I also understand that not every woman will be so considerate. Some women crave attention from men, even when they know they’re married. They never give a passing thought to the wife, who has invested her life in this one individual, or the insecurities it may bring to the surface. Some husbands will encourage this behavior which only adds to the cycle of jealousy. Security in a marriage is priceless! I understand the struggles, which is why I respect other wives, and I have made a vow that I will never be the other woman.

Memories are not always accurate

Do our memories ever put on rose-colored glasses? Maybe an event that seemed unpleasant at the time is recalled with fondness and sentimentality. Even to the point that we would consider doing it again, only to realize it wasn’t actually fun the first time. Our brain loves to play tricks on us. It loves to let emotion cloud over better judgment. When you have children, you experience this regularly. You recall the amazing family trip you just had, telling everyone what fun it was, and plan for the next one. You block out the tantrums, the meltdowns, the incessant asking of “Are we there yet?” You conveniently forget the large amounts of money that you just hemorrhaged, all for the sake of “fun.”

Before our third child was born, we planned a trip to Sea World. As with most families, this practically required the selling of our firstborn. After driving ten hours with two children under five, we decided to go to dinner. We knew this would be risky. Two children, who have been cooped up in a Toyota Camry for ten hours don’t mix well with Olive Garden. But we were determined!

So as expected our kids were whiny, impatient and ill-mannered. We were prepared for that. The surprise came when our children were the best behaved. Every single child (and we’re talking dozens) in the restaurant was frazzled, exhausted, over-stimulated and miserably unhappy. All this after their parents had spent thousands of dollars on a dream vacation. At the time I am sure most of those parents were thinking, like us, “Whose idea was this?” Then we got home, back to reality and those memories were pushed to the dark recesses of our mind, and the pinkish, flowery memories emerged.

It is much like childbirth. If all you could remember was the pain, all maternal desires would cease instantly. Instead, our brain pulls a rabbit out of the hat and we seem to block out the nine months of misery and hours of agony. Our brain replaces the difficulties with warm, affectionate memories of holding our little creations for the first time.

The brain is a slightly deceitful genius, so the next time you reflect with fondness on a past event, be careful before you repeat the process, because our memories are not always accurate.