As most of my posts often do, this one was born from my
scanning a headline. This one talking
about being married to a person whose political views differ from your own. While I believe that over the years we’ve
discovered that our view on some fundamental social issues are very similar,
our take on the other issues differ greatly.
Our opinions on the candidates themselves, the spin that most media
outlets put on the candidates that they cover and want/don’t want you to think
they support etc., also differ greatly.
Needless to say, this has caused some very sprightly
discussions. Arguments, if you will, in
the proper sense of the word. Now in the
realm of the argument structure, Eric has me at a severe disadvantage. I can usually keep up in the first 10 minutes
or so of back-and-forth. But he was the
state champ in debate (or something like that) and did it not only in high
school, but in college as well. Whereas
I am of the jump-up-and-down-flailing-my-arms-whilst-yelling-WELL-THAT’S-JUST-STUIPD-STUPID-STUPID-YOU-BIG-BUCKETHEAD
school of debate. If my dad was alive,
he’d tell you the same thing. My dad
always said that the lowest form of arguing was name-calling. He said
it was reserved for those who simply didn’t understand the issue, or lacked the
proper retort. Yeah, that pretty much sums
me up when it comes to politics. Even
though he made us play “The Devil’s Advocate” beginning when we were about 5,
all I really became was passionate.
Arms-a-flailing. Only winning
because people didn't wish to get caught in the hand-swinging-crossfire. And they would quit.
Granted, my arguments could be much more effective if I
really cared to read deeply into the political arguments put forth by our
candidates. Don’t get me wrong, I care
deeply about the issues, but I have little to no tolerance for politics. Politicians, car salesmen, real estate
agents. There is no difference to
me.
Being married to Eric, though, a highly talented debater who can always end by
agreeing to disagree, I learned the hard way that I cannot win a proper debate
with him. Even if I’m right (and I can FEEL it in my BONES!). I’m just not able to put forth a strong
enough argument in the subject of politics.
But that’s ok. In our short
number of years together spanning two presidential elections, I have learned an
important lesson: I've learned to stop
flailing. Because ultimately I love him,
and it doesn't matter. I've learned when I've reached the end of my ability-to-articulate rope, I stop. Because ultimately I love him, and it doesn't matter. I have learned to appreciate WHY
he feels how he does and go on with life.
Because ultimately I love him, and it doesn't matter. We share a bed, a home, a life and I love him. And he loves me. And ultimately, that is ALL that matters.
