Satoko Kamo, Japan Psychoanalytic Society At first, I thought it was all a misunderstanding. Let me rewind about five minutes. I was preparing dinner in the kitchen when I sensed my husband coming home. He entered the room looking irritated. "Welcome home, you look tired," I said to him, but he went straight to the washroom, still in a foul mood. I wondered if something had happened at work as I dissolved miso into the soup. My husband returned to the dining room, but he was still in a bad mood. Then he said, "Could you please stop harassing me?" "Harassing? What do you mean?" I asked back in surprise. "Every morning, every single morning, you eat your yogurt and leave the container there before going to work. I've told you many times how unpleasant it is to clean up after that. This morning was the same. If you won't stop even after I've told you repeatedly, that means you're harassing me, doesn't it?" I was shocked, and the first thing I thought was that it was all a misunderstanding. The truth was that I was always rushing every morning, but even if it was a misunderstanding, the fact remained that this was how he felt. Kery Rowden, LCSW from the Center for Psychoanalytic Study - Houston First I thought it was all a misunderstanding. He had mentioned at lunch, which I inwardly swore would be our last, that he was looking for a new place to live. I listened politely as he complained that he’d never make it as an artist because art dealers are arrogant and greedy, although I’ve never known him to actually make anything. So when I got the text, I wasn’t completely surprised, although I thought no way in hell are you moving in here. I replied no, that room is occupied, the guy who lives there is staying. This was in fact a lie, or I hoped it was; my girlfriend, who is the reason I was having lunch with this guy in the first place, is moving in, and whether the roommate stayed or went was a point of tension between us. I imagined a nest where the two of us could really settle in, but she was worried about money. So it was unclear how many of us would be living there come August. But I wasn’t about to let him know that. I thought that would have settled it, but I got another text a couple of hours later. “I thought you had three bedrooms in your house?” I thought it was a misunderstanding, but then I realized he wasn’t listening to me at all.
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