Tonight my mom made homemade chicken pot pie for dinner. This happens to be my favorite meal of all time, ever since I was a kid. Over the last week, since deciding not to stress so much over my weight, I've actually lost a couple of pounds. So tonight that pot pie was not an issue for me. But after I finished the third (yes, third) piece, Billy was looking at me like I was covered in feathers and throwing bananas. Ok, so I may have gone a little overboard, but I explained to him that my newfound desire to stress less gave me the right to eat what I wanted for the night. Of course, I would be back on the wagon tomorrow.
Possibly in attempt to help me, Billy decided to let me have it about eating that much and how I would regret it in the morning. I told him that three pieces of pot pie was no big deal since I generally eat a very healthy diet, but he would have none of it. What finally came out was that I have no right to stuff my face like that and give him a hard time about smoking a few cigarettes a week. Seriously? I hardly ever indulge to that degree and I feel like I have the divine right to do so every now and then (and hey, it is Saturday!). I give my fiancé major credit for cutting way back on the smoking and getting back to the gym. But in the six years I have known him, the man has never denied his sweet (carb/beer/smoking) tooth unless he is training for a fight. One may argue that I am training for a fight too...one in which I will either be a knockout wearing my opponent-a lovely white wedding gown-or submit to the alterations I so dread. But we are talking about a lifestyle here. Not just a wedding.
The conversation did not end well. As I write this, Billy is sulking in the next room and I am pondering my next move. Could be an apology, but I'm not sure I can give in that easily. My point was that I love him, and I want him grow old with me. He thinks he is healthy but I guess my idea of healthy is a pretty amped up version, and his is "normal". I don't want to be a nag, I really don't. But the way I see it is if he is going to smoke weekly and refuse to take even one vitamin, then I have the right to worry. The man will be my husband for the rest of his life, after all, so I want plenty of time to hang out with him.
My poor mom had to endure this entire argument, and sweetly tried to referee as the conversation heated up. But when Billy got fed up and left the room, she took a long look at me and said, "Aubree, you really have to pick your battles. Billy is the way he is and not much has ever changed. If you keep on pressing him, nothing ever will." She then asked me if a life without him was better than a life of living with an occasional smoker, and someone who did not share my view of what a truly healthy lifestyle is. I see her point.
Thinking back now on the night, I see that Billy had a point too. I'm far from perfect. And although I am trying very hard, it's no secret that I have my (very) weak moments. Everyone does. I think that as a society, we have far higher expectations of our partners than of our friends, and even sometimes of ourselves. I am not caving and saying I don't deserve the occasional treat, especially since now I know that it can help me stay calm and motivated. I just need to remember that Billy has the same divine rights as I do. If he chooses to use them a little more often, then that is his choice. I do intend, however, to keep encouraging him in his fight to quit smoking, and he will just have to learn to see my view over time. For that reason, I guess I will have to endure the pot pie-like comments. Because that's what love is all about.
Published On: March 03, 2010