(S)park!

Mike and I have been together for 12 years and married for six. That's 48 seasons. While I understand that's a drop in the bucket for some, it's a wonderfully long time in my book. I love our relationship.

     Of course, like all relationships, ours needs to be nurtured. Relationships are living breathing entities like the people in them. They change over time, because we change over time, so it's important to always be paying attention. In order to do just that, I've been doing some research.

     First stop, writer, activist, and internationally syndicated relationship columnist, Dan Savage!

     Dan Savage was the first to use the abbreviation GGG - Good, Giving, and Game - to explain what partners should strive to be in order to nurture and sustain a successful, healthy relationship.  Savage promotes being up for anything... within reason. Hey, there are as many proclivities out there as there are people. It's important to be open and willing to explore.

     And genuine science backs Savage up. Dr. Amy Muise's Psychology Today article, "Are You GGG?" acknowledges that "people who are more motivated to respond to their partner’s needs report higher relationship satisfaction and feel more intrinsic joy after making a sacrifice for their partner.” 

     Now, I'm not trying to brag when I say - I've been pretty darn GGG over the years. Years of damaged boyfriends and comedy improvisation taught me to always say, "Yes, and...," and I think there have been more winners than losers in my relationships when all was said and done. I like to think that my husband benefits from my high GGG level. I try to keep the magic alive, as magazines and talk shows like to say. 

     But.

     Mike has been asking for one thing over the years that, well, I've never felt completely comfortable with. Full disclosure - I've done it before. I started doing it early (14?), and I'm pretty good at it (even if I grow impatient and tire of it quickly). Ultimately, I don't enjoy it. To be fair to Mike, it's not a deviance; more of a desire... a desire that's morphed into a necessity. The requests that started as sweet and subtle suggestions became more frequent and pressing entreaties.

     My husband wants me to park the car.

     No, that's not a euphemism.  

     He wants me to actually PARK THE CAR.

All of you outside major urban areas are yelling a collective WHAT?! Yes, I hear you. But city dwellers, back me up here. 

     Like most sane New Yorkers, I do not like driving - let alone parking - in New York City. I don't need to drive here. It's easy to get anywhere I have to go by foot, by bicycle, or by MTA. When Mike and I first got together, he owned a car, but I didn't. Several years and vehicles later, we took over one of my parents' cars when they downsized and moved to Florida. While our car became a jointly-owned asset, the responsibility still remained solely Mike's.

During the school year, I had a strong defense. My devoted husband may have had an itch for something different, but he knew that NO was my answer. He didn't even bother to ask, and that was the end of it. Most often, Mike could be home early enough from work to beat the neighborhood parking rush. Sometimes he was able to work from home, so he could take part in the alternate side, double-parking ballet.  He was still the master of his domain.  

     Things changed, though, when he started a new job this year. He returns home in the evening, and late-night parking really blows. 

     So when summer rolled around and my schedule became less demanding and more flexible, Mike began to press a bit.

     He'd lean in close and purr in his best Barry White, “Hey, if you’re around at 12:45…” 
     I'd stiffen and pull away. “Mike, I'm really not comfortable with that.”  I'd remind him that he is a master at parking!  He’s got magic parking space radar and surgical precision. He can squeeze into a space with nothing but a sigh between bumpers. I am not as adept. Of course, he'd counter that I just don't do it as often, but that if I would just give it a try, I would see it really isn't a big deal. My protests would continue until finally he would drop it, but I knew he was undeterred... maybe even more resolute. He was gonna wear me down, all right!

     And wear me down he did.

     The first time, I was truly panicked. I envisioned myself driving around in an endless loop. "But did she ever return, No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned..." But heaven, and a parking space, opened right up. I felt a surge of confidence run up the steering column and into my very being as I turned the wheel to the curb. I DID IT!

     It has become easier. I've even begun to initiate. It doesn't matter how good I am at it, I get the job done, and Mike is just so incredibly grateful that I'm (finally) willing and able.  

     Something has shifted since I've started to help park the car. My husband has been more attentive.  Often my texts are met with radio silence, but look at how quickly and enthusiastically he responds when I text about the car:

  

It's incredible! I feel like finally surrendering to this request has brought us closer. We're back in a honeymoon phase. Seriously, look at the love here:

 

Lesson learned? 
The way to a man’s heart is through a parking space.

I'm doing it twice today. How's that for GGG in the NYC?