I have never liked confrontations, avoiding them whenever possible. I learned to tolerate conflict though. Eventually, I’d be the designated challenger of authority and the status quo.

After moving to Fort Polk and marrying my now ex-husband, I lived in a tiny rented mobile home and looked for work. We had one car (his) and a tight budget. I was totally uncomfortable spending his money on anything for myself. Since I was home all day, I contributed by managing household and financial tasks. For example, I found a much better auto insurance rate.

I eventually got the chance to take the civil service test. I scored high and got hired as a clerk in the family practice clinic at the Army hospital. We got our first auto loan, trading his car in on our Ford Escort. Since we now worked near one another with similar schedules, sharing a single car and two jobs was manageable. That management shaped our initial lifestyle clashes.

After several weeks as a working couple, we arrived home as usual and he got comfortable and sat down while I rushed to pick up things and get ready for the following day. Then I just stopped. Looking around, I asked, “Have you noticed that I am still rushing around after you’ve gotten comfortable?” His expression was vaguely, “Okay.” After dropping the things I’d collected next to him, I explained, “From now on, instead of you relaxing while I run around like a chicken with it’s head cut off, we will both scurry about and then we will both relax.” And we usually did just that. Turns out that I cared about clutter and he cared about clean.