Fiance and I went in for first ever pre-marital counseling session. First the nice bald man poked gently at our history, asking where we met, how we started dating, etc. That was fine and dandy and then he asked about the engagement. We both told the story, fiance deferring to me at one point because "I tell it better," says he.
Then the counselor starts rifling through what turns out to be an invasive list of personal questions. I wanted to hide under the cushions on the couch.
"Well," he says, looking at me, "looks like you're the traffic controller of the relationship. Just an observation."
There's no denying that fiance is phlegmatic and I'm . . . uh, not. No denying that, but I hate, hate, hate the idea that I would in any way control him. I hate controlling anyone--I'm all for the individual's right to decide what s/h/it wants to do with life, and that's probably due to the fact that I hate other people trying to control my life.
Post session, I asked fiance what he thought. "Oh yeah, you do that, but I don't mind."
(insert foot-stomping whine here)
Is it possible that phlegmatic people don't mind being directed by other people? And does that mean we're doomed, he to a nagging wife for the rest of his life and I to the likeness of a traffic light? That sucks. I'm going to turn out like that woman in the Phillips laxative commercials.
And here I was thinking premarital counseling was going to help. I don't want to face myself.
(insert another whine)
(goes off and cries, realizing that self is not as mature as self should be)