I’ll be the first to admit — I used to be part of the problem in our relationship.
Let me take you back in time for some proof…
December 25, 2013.
The Christmas Aaron got me $375 worth of Chick-fil-A gift cards.
Literally, 12/6/2013 - from my camera roll on my phone.
And he wrapped them individually so I could open them—yup, you guessed it—one. by. one.
To him, it made perfect sense.
I was pregnant with Maren, craving it, going there daily. They literally knew my name. A salad with a cookie. Every. Single. Time.
He thought it would eliminate the stress of me spending money there every day (something I mentioned often).
Meanwhile, I’m sitting there thinking, “Food gift cards? For Christmas? What in the actual fuck!?”
So what did I do?
I pouted. I cried. I made him return them.
(Can we blame pregnancy hormones at all?)
To an outsider, yeah, I probably seemed like a selfish bitch.
You might even read this and still think that.
But looking back, I can see it so clearly now — there was more going on under the surface.
At the time, I didn’t know it — but that argument had nothing to do with Chick-fil-A.
It was about me.
I didn’t say what I wanted—and still expected him to figure it out.
I wanted him to just know what would make me happy.
When he didn’t, I made it mean he didn’t care.
Truth was, I didn’t even know what I wanted or how to make myself happy.
I handed him that job—and then got mad when he didn’t get it right.
How could I expect him to give me something I couldn’t even give myself?
Back then, I thought the problem was him — the “clueless husband who just didn’t get it.”
But the truth?
I was disconnected from myself.
Not knowing what I wanted, not speaking up, and feeling unhappy weren’t separate issues — they were all symptoms of the same thing: expecting someone else to make me happy.
And for a long time, that someone was Aaron.
The lesson I eventually learned was this:
- It’s not someone else’s job to read your mind or fill your needs—it’s yours.
- You’ll never feel happy or fulfilled if you don’t know how to give that to yourself first.
So now, instead of testing or hinting, I ask.
And I don’t put my happiness on him—because that’s my job.
Before I ruined the day for myself by pouting in my room.
That Christmas wasn’t about gift cards—it was about realizing how often I handed away my power in small, everyday ways.
How I thought “being loved” meant he’d just know what I needed—without me ever having to say a word. Spoiler: he didn’t.
I thought emotional connection meant mind-reading.
Now I know it’s built on communication, clarity, and taking responsibility for your own joy.
Because when you know what you want and say it out loud, people can actually show up for you.
And when you learn that your happiness starts with you, you stop putting pressure on everyone else to figure it out for you.