#163: Dear Baby: I judge my boyfriend’s quick temper

+ does my job have to make an impact & I think I fucked up my life

Good morning!

Welcome back to Dear Baby. Today I’ll be answering three questions regarding: 1) whether the “more emotional” partner in a relationship is responsible for controlling their moods, 2) whether we have to choose between doing “meaningful work” and having a fun life, and 3) what to do when a big leap of faith—in this case, a cross-country move—goes wrong, and you’re worried you fucked up your life.

On Dear Danny this week, we discuss so much! Such as: the extent of one’s obligations to their in-laws, the relationship politics of location-sharing, a drama regarding a secret biological father, living far from aging parents, tips for taking mushrooms, and more. Ep drops Tuesday at 9am! As always you can submit written questions here or call in with a question at 404-802-BABY.

On a moody partner

“Dear Baby, I have a question that is related to your recent podcast on 5 things you recently changed your mind about, specifically regarding how controlling emotions is not necessarily ‘more mature’ than expressing them.

My boyfriend and I are in our late 20s and have been dating for two years. I love being with him and typically things are smooth and great, but sometimes my boyfriend reacts to situations with frustration more than I would. When something goes wrong, my boyfriend gets frustrated quickly and will curse or show visible frustration. The frustration is never directed at me, but at the inanimate object, e.g. my boyfriend cooks multiple dishes on the stove and forgets to turn off a burner, the rice burns, boyfriend gets upset and yells out an expletive and is mad. I’ve learned to walk away and let my boyfriend cool down on his own. This kind of negative outburst is annoying to me because I don’t find it pleasant and I am used to things going wrong, adapting, and carrying on. I think I am quicker to accept things going poorly than my boyfriend is and I was raised to not express anger or frustration, especially over small things (I don’t think this is just because I’m female, my family is/was more reserved in general). My boyfriend’s frustration can create a temporarily unpleasant environment to be around.

I’d like to hear more of your perspective on controlled vs. not controlled emotional expression. Is it good to be negative like this and do I need to accept more negative emotions, or does my boyfriend need to chill out a bit? How much negative emotional expression is normal and healthy for all people involved? Thank you!”

I relate to this question a lot! As someone who tends to be fairly even-keeled (although I have my hair triggers, like when I’m too hot while in transit or am for some reason being timed), I’ve historically been pretty judgemental of people who easily lose their cool, but this is one area where I’m pretty confident I’ve grown in recent years, so I’m happy to share what I’ve learned.

Relationships are the perfect context for examining the tension between more controlled vs. more expressive people, because I think a lot of couples find themselves on opposing sides of the spectrum. The initial attraction makes sense: Person A loves that person B seems so liberated and expressive, and person B loves that person A seems so regulated and together. These traits are, under the best circumstances, complementary. And like all differences, over time and under duress, they can become a source of friction. I would say Avi and I fall into these two camps (me controlled; him emotive), and most of our conflict and growth as a couple has centered around that contrast specifically.

The most important lesson I’ve learned so far is that, unless I personally caused them, Avi’s negative emotions aren’t mine to “fix.” This isn’t about being callous, it’s about not seeing Avi himself as a problem to fix. When you see your role as that of a fixer—as someone responsible for cheering others up or pep-talking them out of every anxiety—you make your mood dependent on other people’s. This makes you extremely vulnerable to resentment. You sweat, you tiptoe. You come to see people’s humanity as a problem to solve—or a threat. Obviously it’s not wrong to tend to someone you love who’s upset, but making your own mood reliant on theirs feeds an unhealthy dynamic.

The irony of learning to step back as a fixer is that it can actually diffuse tension much faster. By accepting where they’re at (“I’m sorry you’re frustrated, I get it”), resisting constant interjection (saying less than you think you need to say, settling for a hug, etc.), and generally unburdening yourself from undoing the tension (waiting it out, protecting your own mood instead of becoming twitchy), they will no longer feel policed or managed, and you will no longer resent them for being human. Funnily enough, I actually learned how to stop fixing from Avi himself, who seldom sees my own emotional swings as a threat and almost always defaults to validating how I feel instead of trying to undo it. This is the sweet side of having different strengths from your partner—they can eventually become your own.

You mentioned that you’ve learned to walk away and let your boyfriend cool down on his own, so you may already be good at detaching, but I wanted to include that piece just in case, because I think it’s foundational to everything else. I also want to say it’s okay that you sometimes get annoyed by his temper—you’re human too and have your limits. When those are surpassed, my best advice is to communicate that in as few words as possible and save the longer conversation for later. No one is prepared to receive feedback about how they handled a situation when they’re still in the situation, in a heightened state. Later, they’ll be much more receptive and able to reflect on what happened. But more than that, hearing them reflect from a place of calm may help you better understand them. It could be the difference between you seeing their short temper as mere immaturity and you understanding that, actually, the rice burning was about a lot more than burned rice. (It always is.)

This matters because how we respond to “petty” issues tends to be in some way pathological. There’s usually more there than a surface reading suggests. Your boyfriend expressing a burst of strong emotion may be no less evolved than your tendency to suppress your frustration in the same situation—they’re simply born of different instincts. This is where I think it can be really beautiful, as a more “controlled” person, to appreciate those who are less locked up. (Although I want to make a distinction between a burst of emotion and a burst of, say, aggression—a temper aimed at other people is a separate issue and not what I’m talking about here.) Oftentimes, people who allow themselves to express emotions in their full, unfiltered truth are people who don’t see emotionality as a threat. Neither Avi nor I would trade his sensitivity to being moved and affected, so often in a positive sense; it makes both our lives much richer. Maybe the flipside of having a more expressive boyfriend is that he can show you to be more expressive yourself.

It took time and lots of communication (still does), but Avi and I have found a really productive symbiosis in our respective approaches to this stuff. When we do our best to make the other feel safe, something really interesting happens: I’m able to be more expressive, and he’s able to be more regulated. This doesn’t happen because we’ve figured out how to perfectly manage, police, or pep-talk the other, but because we’ve put a lot of effort into accepting each other. It’s one of those sweet little paradoxes, that acceptance of differences can lead to bridging them. I think that may be the real puzzle ahead for you and your boyfriend; not determining who’s right or wrong, but how you can connect with each other outside that binary.

On “meaningful work”

“This is a sort of follow-up to your podcast about not taking sponsorship offers. I appreciated reading your take on the matter, and I loved the framing of ‘living in line with your values’ as a luxury, or a nice thing. At the same time, it seems like you enjoy your career. I am in the throes of a small existential crisis, so would appreciate your advice!

I think I’m realizing that my ‘moral code’ (please emphasize the quotation marks!) is making me miserable. I have been working in the public sector for around five years, on climate advocacy and policy. At first, I was excited to work on a complex issue that I’m passionate about. It is also a relatively lucrative career (I will never be rich but also I will never struggle to make rent). Being honest, I also imagined that the career would offer me both prestige and adventure, on top of that nice glowy feeling of doing the right thing. Unfortunately, it is—and I feel incredibly embarrassed to say this—incredibly boring! The people I work with are boring! (Sorry to them, I love them!) The annual meetings and panels and events are so dull! I feel incredibly guilty for feeling this way. 

On the one hand, this is objectively an important job, and I do believe that finding work that doesn’t make the world a net worse place is important. On the other hand, what is a job that makes the world a better place? I think that running a cafe that makes people feel welcome and cozy would have a more tangible impact on the world (although I am aware I have none of the skills needed to do that and do not want to romanticize this type of work).

On top of this, my judgment of myself and my morality is making me judgemental of others. Some of the people I love best are wildly successful in corporate, ‘shipping shit across the ocean and selling it to people’ type jobs. At times I feel myself genuinely seething that they are not only more comfortable but also more fulfilled than me while doing work that I genuinely consider worthless and ‘bad.’ It is also holding me back. I’d like to know what I could be if I let myself play around more and try more things. I love fashion, particularly secondhand/vintage, and writing. But I also think I may want to be rich and successful (gross).

What is your experience of being fulfilled/feeling proud of your work? Is a job just a job? Should I chill out and give myself a break? Or should I grow a backbone and try harder to make meaningful change?”