Our living room floor was littered with backpacking gear. As my husband, Corey, calculated each ounce of weight he was adding to his pack, I calculated ways to keep him from leaving.
Who was this guy I married anyway? This man who can’t go a year without either climbing a fourteener in Colorado or canoeing some Buffalo River rapids. This husband who would choose to abandon me for trips that I felt were a waste of time and money.
Each time he planned a new adventure, I grew a little more distant. And a little more cunning. In my mind while he was gone, I would run a hundred scenarios in which I had the opportunity to make him feel inadequate and guilt-ridden.
By the time he arrived home from whatever mountain or river or trail he was exploring, physically exhausted, but spiritually exhilarated, I was a loaded weapon—poised to shoot my ugly words and cold attitude at all the good things this trip gave him.
His “man-trips” brought out the “mean girl” in me.
The Catalyst for an Attitude Change
Then one spring, he decided to build a canoe. In our garage. Our vehicles were demoted to the driveway. It was beyond my comprehension why he would want to do such a thing. As the construction supplies piled up in the garage, the ugly thoughts piled up in my head. Corey and the other woman, as I dubbed the canoe, were really starting to make me mad.1