Move along men, there’s nothing to fix (in relationships)

Encoded in men’s genetic makeup is a funny chromosomes called Y that dictates a propensity to fix all things broken. Scientists have tried to observe this, psychologists have tried to explain this and comedians have poked fun since the beginning. Yes, we fix our cars, our homes, including broken phones. But we should stop there and not try to fix people; they are not something that can be fixed, (nor would you want to.) So when does our proverbial Thor-like hammer become a tool for problems that look like nails and when does it become a bludgeon?

I knew a while before my marriage was over that it wasn’t fixable. Yes, I could change things like finances, houses, attitudes and even minds, but my hammer had to be holstered for my marriage as it simply wasn’t a thing to be fixed. It’s not to say I didn’t try, but trying had the same effect on my ex as her attempts at trying to accessorize me: fail! The reality is that a relationship isn’t just a two way street; it’s constantly changing feedback and process of actions and reactions between people who are dynamically trying to figure out who they are in relation to each other. As husband and wife, we simply became two different people and didn’t discover it in ourselves until a series of events happened to us as a couple. Whether these events are births, deaths, sickness, material changes in lifestyles or whatever it is, my wife and I were simply different people at the end of our relationship than at the beginning. Things changed. Nothing was broken. So there was nothing to fix. It’s remarkable how something so simple can be so difficult to learn.

The reality is that a relationship isn’t just a two way street; it’s constantly changing feedback and process of actions and reactions between people who are dynamically trying to figure out who they are in relation to each other.

Since most of my days are now spent interacting with my daughter than with my ex-wife, there are more opportunities for teaching and bonding with my daughter and just as many opportunities for conflict from the friction of her brushing up against boundaries. So how often do I pick up my hammer to build a safe environment for my daughter? More often than I should. It’s difficult to separate our natural tendency to protect them from the onslaught of life lessons especially since our children are so very personal to us. We want the best for them and in thinking so, we bubble wrap their world. I try my best not to fight her battles, or to beat up her bullies, or lessen her pain when she fails to make the cut for a team. If I did, I would rob her the opportunity for her to figure out who she is in relation to all the people in her life. After all, these are not my problems to fix; these are her life interactions which will shape her personality.

The awful reality is that we men shouldn’t try to fix anything that we don’t have 100% control over. Fix that wheel alignment, fix our finances and fix our dad-bods. But relationships? Those things are fluid, dynamic and its end product is not known. Short-cutting that process can be disastrous—even deadly. Just like a caterpillar freed from its cocoon too soon will never turn into a butterfly.

So resist the learned reflex of survival. Taking control of another’s situation and life doesn’t demonstrate physical prowess nor does it project competence. In fact, it displays an irrational need for masculine identity. Overcome the conditioning of millennia of hunting lions and evolve to a modern hero. How? Believe that you are not the hammer. Even Thor spent much of the story in Thor: Ragnarok (2017) figuring out that he can use his wit and alliance to win over atrocities. As Odin said to him, “Are you Thor, the God of Hammers? That hammer was to help you control your power, to focus it. It was never your source of strength.”