My ex-wife obsessed over planning every event down to every microsecond. Time for spontaneity was never allowed. Plan. Plan. Plan. Busy. Busy. Busy.
My ex-wife’s grandfather sexually abused her from the time she was four years old until the time she turned seven. She never received any therapy, and refused to go to marriage counseling because she said that she was not ready to deal with her abuse. Perhaps her obsession to want to control everything stems from her lack of control during the abuse. To have any spontaneity may allow her demons to emerge. By planning everything, she suppresses and controls her demons. Who knows?
One time I was on my way home from work, and I got the urge to go out for dinner and a movie. I got home and said, “Honey, don’t worry about cooking. Let’s go out to dinner and then see a movie.”
“What about Emily?” asked my wife referring to our three-month-old daughter.
“We can drop her off at my mom’s,” I said, “and pick her up afterwards.”
“What? Drop her off on such short notice?”
“Sure. We won’t be long. We’ll grab dinner and catch an early movie. I don’t want a late night because I have to get up early for work tomorrow.”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “You’re going to have to give me more notice if you’re going to be spontaneous.”
I could not believe what I had heard!
“You’re going to have to give me more notice if you’re going to be spontaneous.”
She did not see the silliness of her statement.
I tried it once with her. Just before I left work I called her.
“I’m giving you notice,” I said. “I’m leaving work now and when I get home I’m going to be spontaneous.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I’m going to be spontaneous. I’m giving you notice like you asked.”
“But what are you going to do?”
“You’ll see,” I said and I hung up.
When I walked in the house I was smiling. She wasn’t.
“Before you go any further, you tell me what you are going to do,” she said.
“I’m going to take you in my arms and kiss you,” I said as I moved towards her.
She pushed me away.
“And then what are you going to do after that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll improvise.”
I made another pass at her, but she pushed me away.
“I’m not going to let you kiss me until you tell me what you’re going to do after that. Tell me now. I don’t have too much time. I have to get dinner ready.”
“Never mind,” I said. “Never mind.”
I never did learn how to plan my spontaneity.