The Stories Men Tell Themselves

And what they really mean

When I look back at the beginning of the journey my wife and I have been on over the last eight or so years, I’ve noticed something I was doing then and, if I’m being honest, still catch myself doing occasionally.

Whenever something happened that I didn’t understand, I filled in the blanks myself.

I don’t think I’m alone in doing that, and I don’t think it’s unique to men. What I have realized, though, is that the menopause transition has a way of exposing it. Perimenopause brings uncertainty for everyone living through it, especially the woman experiencing it, but also for the partner trying to make sense of changes that often arrive without explanation.

Looking back, I was reacting to what I believed the changes meant. Somewhere along the way I’d already reached a conclusion. Whether that conclusion reflected reality was almost beside the point because, once I’d accepted it as true, I behaved as though it was.

Simple situations like my wife deciding not to watch an episode of our favourite show and choosing instead to spend some time alone reading a book started to take on meanings of their own. There is nothing unusual about wanting some downtime after work. Taken on its own, it probably wouldn’t have registered at all. But alongside other changes that were happening, I began joining dots that may never have belonged together.

What I’ve realized since is not just that I was doing this, it was how fast I switched to this way of thinking about my relationship. It wasn’t a gradual process. And because it wasn’t gradual I never questioned why it was happening.

I had already decided what those situations meant, for me, for my relationship and for my life going forward. Having made those decisions, completely in isolation, I viewed every other change with the same lens.

As I look back now, I realize I rarely stopped to ask whether the conclusions I’d reached were actually true. Once I’d decided my wife’s behaviour meant our relationship was changing, everything else seemed to support that view. I noticed the evenings she wanted to spend alone more than the evenings we laughed together. I remembered the difficult conversations more clearly than the ordinary ones. Without realizing it, instead of gathering evidence, I was only noticing the pieces that fitted the explanation I’d already accepted.

Over time it became automatic. I wasn’t consciously deciding what each change meant. I simply assumed it meant something, and before long I’d settled on an explanation that felt convincing. Because those explanations arrived so naturally, I never stopped to question where they had come from. They felt less like opinions and more like observations.

“It is not the time to self-blame, to blame others, or assign meaning.”

• Natalie Buchwald LMHC

I recognised myself in this quote very clearly. Assigning meaning had become my default response to uncertainty. Every change seemed to require an explanation and, if one wasn’t available, I created one. At the time I thought I was making sense of what was happening. Looking back, I can see that many of those explanations told me more about my own fears than they did about what my wife was actually experiencing.

And that was where I was missing what was right in front of me. My wife’s experience had gradually become secondary to my own interpretation of what was happening. Every change felt personal because I was viewing it through the question, “What does this mean for us?” More importantly, “What does it mean for me?” I rarely stopped to consider that she was living through changes she couldn’t always explain herself. While I was searching for certainty, she was often just trying to get through the day.

I began treating individual moments as evidence instead of seeing them as part of a much larger picture. A hug declined became withdrawal. Less affection suggested we were becoming roommates. A quiet evening felt like distance rather than exhaustion. Each moment seemed to reinforce the conclusion I’d already reached. Looking back, I can see I wasn’t paying attention to everything that was happening. I was paying attention to the things that supported the explanation I had already accepted.

“If your partner has other ways of showing you that they are still there, notice them.”

• Natalie Buchwald LMHC

I wasn’t seeing the ways my Wife was still there. I was stuck looking for the things that I thought meant she was instead of recognizing the ways she was able to show her presence now. Slowly I started to see them. And that challenged my way of thinking. If she was still there, was it me that had moved? Had I, in an attempt to understand the changes in our relationship somehow created a whole new reality for myself?

While the way I had constructed this new reality happened quickly, moving away from it took more time. Slowly I started to not assign meanings to things. Not every silence had to be explained. A bad day doesn’t predict a bad week. Things can remain uncertain and not have to be resolved immediately.

I wish I could tell you that this has all wrapped up with a nice bow. It hasn’t, I’m still human, I still catch myself telling stories, seeking explanations, assigning meanings. The difference is I’m less likely to believe those stories.