
Adam and I during our travels through the Salar de Uyuni between Bolivia and Chile in 2007
I planned to write something different for this entry. However, this is a marriage in motion and a partnership of over 15 years between two opinionated people with similar goals and very different methods for achieving them. It could be that this recent experience and how we worked through is needed by someone out there; so I feel called to share it here.

Honeymoon trip – Image taken in South Korea 2008
Some Background: Since the start of our marriage, Adam and I have either worked together directly or played a supportive role in the other’s business pursuits. As business partners, we developed some unhealthy habits that, for example, can turn a simple conversation into a heated debate rather quickly. Our default was that whoever presented the most compelling case in a mental sparring match, would become the driver of the new pursuit and the other would take the backseat. The problem with this approach is that many thoughts and feelings have gone unexpressed and either festered or manifested in other areas of our relationship. Given the high stakes of our move abroad, different things are activating fear and anxiety in each of us. Our old habits, if left unchecked, could be very damaging to our relationship, our family, and our plans. During these last weeks leading up to our departure, the stress level in our household has been off the charts. So has the anxiety.
The Situation: The other night, Adam shared more about his concerns and worries regarding the financial investment we’re committing to for this move. It’s important to mention that he is much better at budgeting than me. Let’s start there. And when he wants something badly enough, he seems to find a way to make his plans work. I know how much he wants this plan to work. So, naturally, I was confused by his “sudden” worries and concerns about the financial viability of this move. This instantly triggered some fear and anxiety within me. Especially because a large part of our financial plan rests on my shoulders.

China May, 2008 on a terrifying hot air balloon ride over the Karst mountains in Yanshuo, Guanxi in Southern China
To give you some context for the conversation, over the past year, Adam has watched our cash on hand dwindle day to day as he focused entirely on the management of our home renovation and then pivoted to making it vacation rental-ready ($40,000 and counting). I made the difficult choice of turning away real estate sales, our main source of income since 2018, to devote time to my coaching certifications and keep our home life stable for the kids during a time of major upheaval for them. So, money definitely had been flowing in the wrong direction. This is fear factor NUMERO UNO for Adam! I, on the other hand, am feeling an incredible level of certainty that we have more than enough cushion before either of us begins to produce a monthly income again once we have settled. Our plans to sell our RV and two cars, along with the revenue our home will eventually generate as a vacation rental, will put us in a good position financially. I was armed with my “counter-argument” comprised of these and a few other facts. However, given my level of anxiety at that moment and my default mode of arguing (the fight response to anxiety!), I was also ready to hurl all sorts of accusations at him: that he didn’t believe in my talents as a leadership coach and instructor, or in the viability of the budgets that he himself created. I’d start first by accusing him of lacking faith in my intuition and certainty!

The Outcome: Then I remembered to PAUSE. In that pause, I saw his stress and fear. I sensed that at this moment, my certainty was not going to reach him. Giving him facts and assurances wouldn’t either. What would reach him was my compassion. I looked deeply into his eyes. I stopped arguing, stopped projecting my doubts and fears onto him, and stopped telling him what to feel. Instead, I gave him permission to share again and more often. In other words, I didn’t take up all of the oxygen with my impulsive thoughts and actions. I was OPEN which allowed him to be open. I just held space for him to share his feelings. Tonight, he heard me and he felt heard.
REAL TALK: After 2 years of being coached specifically for my ADHD as well as years of receiving leadership and business development coaching, I’m learning to look at life through a different lens. This gives me clarity, particularly as it pertains to the way Adam and I communicate our thoughts and feelings to one another. I’ve had to work on recognizing when I am emotionally dysregulated and pausing before acting on my impulses. When I am attuned to my emotional state, the following conscious actions I take are rooted firmly in my deepest desires for myself and my loved ones. My deepest desire is that we cross the threshold of this new phase in life more unified, as partners who support each other shoulder to shoulder so that we both feel seen and heard. My habitual nature to push through the stress, ignore the anxiety, and get to the goal, however, is deeply rooted – much to the detriment of my closest relationships. I wasn’t diagnosed until age 45, which means that for 12 years of our marriage, my ADHD behaviors and Adam’s inability to understand my struggles lacked context. That was fertile ground for bad partnership dynamics to grow. One of the most helpful things we did was to attend a couple’s retreat led by my ADHD coach for those of us with “neurotypical” partners. This is NOT Adam’s cup of tea! In fact, he went in convinced it was an enormous waste of time, given all we had to do to get ready for our move (in his defense, it was a FULL weekend at the end of April and we were leaving the country in mid-June!). However, a lot was revealed, and the result was a joint commitment to show each other more compassion, to provide space for each of us to communicate our thoughts, and to allow for the other to first regulate if a situation is emotionally charged. I am and we are a work in progress.