It is an unfortunate truth that, very often, we are the worst to the people who love us best.
Our boss at work is rude or condescending; they don’t care about what you say and never take action. We rage quietly because that is what you have to do. You can’t lose the job over it—it’s not the adult thing to do, and you need the money.
We interact with an ignorant customer service person who doesn’t know how to help us, doesn’t seem to want to learn, and won’t really get a move on while we are in a rush with a screaming kid on our leg. But yelling at them isn’t going to get anything done faster, so we stuff it down.
The traffic is crawling along, and there’s never any reason—no accident, no busy merge. People are slow because they are slow. We want to do something, but what can we do? Everyone is stuck together in the same slowly trudging clog of cars. Honking just makes everyone mad and, well... we should be better.
The baby is crying, and he’s only one. He can’t articulate why, so we cuddle, coddle, and do what we can to console, but in the end, it’s an energy drain, and we lose sleep that night.
Life is hard, and we use up these reserves of energy holding back the dam of anger, frustration, and just plain fatigue—until our husband, wife, boyfriend, or girlfriend comes into the picture, and suddenly, we are short with them. Because we can be. Because they signed up for better or worse. Because they get to see us at our worst, and they’re supposed to understand.
Right?
Yes. No. Both, really.
It is a strange and unfortunate truth that we treat those who love us most with the least respect because, perhaps, we don’t understand the price of doing so. They won’t fire us, they won’t prevent us from getting our return processed, and they probably won’t rear-end us with their car. But there are prices higher than these. How many times can we be short with them, our worst selves with them, before they have every right to be their worst selves back, and we find ourselves in a downward spiral?
Thank the person you love most, who loves you most, for putting up with you. However great you think you are, however amazing a catch you are convinced you are, you are just as annoying, broken, and mean as the next person when you’re flustered, at your wit’s end, and tired. So go and undo some of that unfortunate truth with a hug, a thank you, and by being a good person—just like you are for everyone else who can fire you, slow you down, or ruin your day outside the house.
"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, / They have to take you in." Robert Frost seemed to have it right. Raging at strangers (servers, etc.) does seem different than raging at the family, and for some reason, seems to be more judged unless it strays into abuse. We're all only human, I supposed.
While, fundamentally, I agree with what you write, I think it omits some fundamental human behavioral elements. I've known people who will, without restraint, rage at their boss, the customer service person, the traffic, and even their whining children because they are incapable of restraining their emotion. With others, its more about compartmentalization of their emotions. If I'm interfacing people of circumstances that I have no emotional attachment with, then I will compartmentalize my anger and frustration because, well, they don't care about my emotion. However, for those that I share some intimacy with (i.e. loved ones, friends and family), then displaying my emotions (even negative emotions like anger and rage) is showing my vulnerability. Emotions run the gamut between…