Home > Marriage > Communication > He's Practical; I'm Not
He's Practical; I'm Not
How I learned not to take our personality differences personally.
By Dianne Barker
 1 of 4
"That thing isn't doing much good." My husband laughed as I raised my battered purple umbrella, scant protection from the light drizzle.
I'm a packrat. I rarely throw away anything. No matter how shabby, if the item is usable, I keep it, along with treasures I'm not using right now but might need someday.
James, on the other hand, throws away everything. His perspective: If I need it later, I'll buy another one. On occasion I've retrieved from the trash items he discarded. Storing these treasures has been a "sore spot" in our marriage.
"What is all this stuff?" James would say, looking around our basement. His frustration didn't motivate me to change my hoarding habits, and more stuff accumulated. Although he seldom criticized, his disapproval wounded me. I wanted him to accept me unconditionally.
James and I are opposites in other areas too. He loves pie; I prefer cake. He plans ahead; I take life an hour at a time. He likes being home; I enjoy social events. He's low-key and organized; I lean toward excitement and chaos. He's practical; I'm a dreamer.
During our two-year courtship, love, youth, and ignorance covered potential problems. But moments after saying, "I do," we found ourselves in disagreement. I'd never told James my childhood dream: riding away with my Prince Charming in a shiny car, "Just Married" written in shaving cream on the windows, colorful streamers and noisy cans dangling from the bumper.
James didn't understand such dreams. He hid the car—his pride and joy—at his uncle's house and borrowed one to drive to church. During the reception, when friends badgered him to reveal the hiding place, I nagged him to tell.
"You're my wife. You're supposed to be on my side," he told me.
It was a small issue, but I felt deeply hurt, though I smiled as we ran through a shower of rice to the borrowed car. His buddies guessed the location and decorated his car. I was secretly pleased. But James immediately drove to the car wash. Tears flooded my eyes as he washed away my dream before the first mile of our honeymoon.
That incident was this 19-year-old bride's first clue that personality differences would cause many challenges in days to come. Although we agreed on important matters of life and faith, we approached day-to-day issues from different perspectives. We didn't deliberately provoke each other; we simply held conflicting points of view.
I knew James loved me. Just 22, he took seriously his role as leader, protector, provider. But I wasn't sure he liked me. I was talkative. There was my hoarding habit, and I habitually ran late.
And I wasn't sure I liked him—a perfectionist who could be impatient, insensitive, and harsh when stressed.
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