My paper this morning had a picture of those miners that were freed in Australia. Two weeks underground and they walked out alive. Their faces reflected their joy. I can’t imagine being trapped like that in a dark, hopeless place, fearing for my life.

It brought to mind another kind of entrapment–that of expectations in a marriage. I buried my husband in a hopeless place just as dark as that mine with my desires for him to act and be a certain way. I wanted him to be more romantic and was always just a bit disappointed in his efforts to bring me a card or take me out to dinner or buy me a present.

I wanted him to be home at night at a certain time even though traffic and his boss’s demands were often out of his control. I’d punish him with my silence or my words, believing he did this to me for some deep, dark motive.

I wanted him to say certain words to me–I’d play the scenario out in my head and when he didn’t come through, I’d cry or mope or walk out of the room.

Reading this over, I don’t sound like a nice person, do I? But I’m not much different than you, trying to get my needs met through someone else. I felt unloved and wanted him to make the feeling go away.

It was when I stopped this behavior and opened the prison of expectations, that joy returned to my husband’s face.

He likes being around me and looks forward to coming home. He’s grown much more romantic over the years and he says the sweetest things to me. No, he’s not perfect, but then neither am I. And that feeling of being unloved? Has disappeared as I’ve discovered the best way to be loved is to allow your man to be free.