It was the in the middle of the cereal aisle at the grocery store that I learned one of my first lessons about love that has stuck with me ever since.
We were dating long-distance and Michael was in town for the weekend. I had to run to the grocery store and, still in the get-to-know-you phase of our relationship, I asked him what kind of cereal he'd like. He pointed to the Cheerios.
"Cheerios?! Ugh. What instead?" I responded, suggesting a frosted-wheat cereal instead. I don't remember what we ended up picking in the end, except that it wasn't Cheerios. And that for the rest of the trip, I pushed the cart and Michael lagged a few steps behind, not talking.
When we left the store, I asked what was wrong with him, completely unaware of the gravity of the situation that had taken place in the cereal aisle, where cheesy cartoon characters and cheery cardboard boxes leered in the background.
"You asked what I wanted," he said, reminding me of the Cheerios.
"Yeah, but I don't like Cheerios," I told him, hoping he'd appeal to compromise.
"Well, you shouldn't ask me for my opinion if you're not going to take it."
There! That sentence, right there! That hit me smack in the forehead. Of course, I didn't mean any disrespect by the cereal veto. I merely wanted us to get something we both liked, and Cheerios certainly was not that.
But I realized, for the first time, that if I'm going to ask him for an opinion, I must be willing to accept it. I realized what it means when I ask for his opinion and then disregard it, like it doesn't matter. Though the scenario was innocent on the surface, I now saw it in a new light, that my actions spelled out disrespect and insult.
I realized--yet again--the power of words, and even more so, the power of respecting those words. That lesson has lasted with me, and the morale leaps to life again whenever I think about asking Michael for his opinion. If I'm going to ask it, I prepare myself to accept whatever he says. So if there's an option I don't want, I have to be upfront about that rather than expect him to read my mind. Sometimes, I have to be willing to make a choice (say, to wear this blouse and not that one) with confidence, rather than indulge the desire to fish for a compliment by way of asking for an "opinion."
I've learned to think a bit more before I speak. Lest we take another trip down the cereal aisle and memory lane.
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