My wife and I rarely argue anymore. When we were younger we did it more frequently, and had some whoppers. Some of the topics we fought about:
- The existence of God
- The innocence of Bill Clinton
- Whether country music is good or bad
- Whether or not our future children would wear bike helmets
I lost all of these. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever won a fight with her. But one fight that ranks in our top five occurred the night we watched Scream in the theater. It was in 1997, long before kids came into the picture. For a time we enjoyed suspense films — Silence of the Lambs was a dual favorite — but I didn’t realize she had never seen a typical B-grade slasher film. I grew up watching them. Five minutes into Scream she was done, and asked to leave. “We’re not leaving,” I said. And rather than force me to find my own way home, which she would most certainly do today, she endured for the duration; disgust and offense simmered next to me for two hours.
I was wrong of course, and the argument that ensued once we were alone in the car continued all the way home and beyond. It damaged our marriage. I hate that I ever treated her with such selfish disrespect. That night I learned how my inability to honor her boundaries caused us both harm.
I know a lot of people enjoy horror movies. For me however, the Scream experience was the end. Since that night, horror movies repulse me. Just seeing a horror poster on a streaming service makes me wince. Several years ago it dawned on me that the reaction I get to seeing horror film imagery is exactly the same reaction she gets when exposed to something pornographic or lewd.
These days we both watch superhero movies and enjoy many parts of the X-Men films. X-Men has amazing characters: Wolverine, Charles Xavier, and Nightcrawler are right up there with Captain America and Ellen Ripley in my personal hero pantheon. And yet X-Men, in classic comic book fashion, has a tendency to objectify at least one woman in every film. Its female protagonists are no exception, be it Raven/Mystique, Moira MacTaggert, or even Jean Grey, who is arguably one of the most powerful female characters in the genre.
From a creative standpoint I love X-Men, and sometimes so does she, but like a tiny piece of turd in a cookie, the unnecessary sexualization hampers the craving. There is a scene in X-Men First Class where the young heroes are all geared up for a final battle, body suits zipped up to the collar, all except for Raven, whose uniform is unzipped down to the chest. It’s blatant, intentional objectification. It’s also bad battle tactics, but that is a different post.
I don’t claim to be the arbitrator of appropriateness. I exercise discernment but I also defer to my wife on these matters. If something makes her uncomfortable, I want to know about it so I can honor her in avoiding it. This balance between taste and preference, edification and harm, or whether something is art or garbage, is highly varied depending on who you talk to. Many of my friends have radically different opinions on what to allow into their homes with entertainment choices.
So how do we build strong marriages, or relationships, or friendships within a culture that has such adjustable guardrails? Spoiler Alert: I don’t know. But I’ll bet your spouse does. They may not have an issue with that meme you posted, and they might not mind those commercials during the football game, but have you ever asked? Have you checked in with each other recently to see if any of the things you enjoy as leisure cause the other to squirm? It’s possible they may go years enduring something they despise out of love for you. Ask the question anyway and prepare not to be offended. This is where intimacy starts, and no amount of lingerie can compete with what happens when a fully engrossed partner knows they are safe and that their pleasure is your priority.
There are still things we go a few rounds on, like the economic ethics around scarcity and price, the proper use of a semicolon, and The Last Jedi. But on the biggies we agree. Like how James McAvoy’s Professor X is superior to Patrick Stewart’s.