In a post last week (Both, And) I mentioned assuming the innocent of your beloved.   I thought I’d expand on that here.  A few months ago I decided to practice what I preach.  My marriage had become pretty incredible since our reunion last summer after nearly a year apart, but there was one area that was still lacking.
My husband and I rarely had deep, philosophical discussions.   He’s just not that kind of guy, I thought.  I’d attempted to lure him into them from time to time, and he’s a great listener, but he just never had anything to offer.   I have a couple of friends who are great at that, and I’d decided that I could go to them for the fulfillment of that part of my soul’s desires.Then one day, I was contemplating the innocence of the beloved.   I’d written about it recently, and was coaching my clients to assume their partners’ innocence as a way to resolve conflicts.  Rather than assume they meant something other than what they said, or assume that they would respond to a request in a certain, negative way, I suggested they assume that their beloved would rise to the occasion and come from a place of love.
And, as often happens with me, it hit me upside the head:   there I was, preaching what I needed to learn for myself. That evening, I said to my beloved, “I’ve been selling you short, honey.  I’ve been assuming that you wouldn’t be able to step up to the plate and offer me a deep intellectual communion.  That’s not very fair of me, because you’ve been able to do everything else I’ve ever needed you to do.   I want this from you, so that we can have a truly sacred relationship in all areas.  I’m sorry I’ve been expecting you wouldn’t be able to rise to the occasion.  From now on, I am assuming that you are not only capable, but willing to engage with me in this way.”
We proceeded to have a long, deep conversation that crossed many topics and thrilled me to the core of my being. When I assumed his innocence, I created the space for him to step into being the person I wanted him to be.   It wouldn’t have happened without his willingness, and it wouldn’t have happened if I kept assuming he was incapable of it.  It would have continued to stunt our relationship, a wedge between us drawing us further apart.  It’s still a work in progress; we’re changing a pattern of two decades and that requires our conscious attention.  And I still go to my friends for deep, meaningful conversations, but it’s also delightful to know that those kinds of talks can happen on Sunday morning in bed, or Thursday night over dinner.
What might happen if you assumed the innocence of your beloved around something that’s been bothering you in the relationship?   Try it on for size and see for yourself.