Like most men I’ve met, I’m cool, calm and collected. Until I’m not.

Given this sense of myself – he of steady mind and broad back – I have often taken on more projects than what I can actually handle. It’s as if something inside of me is programed with the code, “he who manages most is the best.”

Invariably, things get screwed up or I break down. The cliche “the straw that broke the camel’s back” was written about people like me!

Another version of this “manliness “has been taking place on our adventures in Georgia. When Beth and I take a walk, we often meet another couple who will ask, “So, what are you two doing on this Adventure?” or “What’s next for you, two?” Usually, I let Beth answer while I, like some snake in the grass, start reviewing her answer and saying to myself, “That sure aint the way I see things!”

Then, instead of agreeing with the woman I will later share a bed with, I uncoil like a cobra and begin to openly disagree with her in front of the unsuspecting, curious couple from Michigan. And before you can say, “The Waffle House is not the place for healthy food,” Beth and I want to throw daggers at one another’s eyeballs. Yup.

I’ll give you another example of my maleness.

This morning we had a Zoom call with two fellows from Morgan Stanley, a “get to know you” talk about financial planning. This is our second of three calls with planners. Now, I want to add that we have also been talking to another couple about finances, Paul and Sandi, so by my count we now have 64 people in our heads telling us how to spend, save and run our lives.

But here’s where I get really mannish.

Instead of saying to my beloved, “Honey, I’m a little overwhelmed with all of the planners we’re meeting or embarrassed to be sharing all of this personal information,” I start acting out like chimp who just lost his banana.

The two Morgan Stanley guys got a performance. Here’s Beth trying to explain our lives and our choices and I start making jokes, poking fun at her stories and, I imagine, giving these guys good reason to never get married to an artist.

Coming back to the camper, we reviewed the meeting. Of course, I chose to apologize and take. a good look at my silly behavior. I chose to admit (because it’s a part of my step program in ACA) that I got caught up in the Scott 1.0 version of myself – a guy who doesn’t talk about his emotions BEFORE they explode.

This is a pattern.

I’ve said it before – marriage ain’t for sissies. Nor is personal growth. If you want to grow up really fast, get hitched or go to therapy and watch how all of the mistakes your mommy and daddy made begin to make sense.

Fortunately, we’ve spent hundreds of hours in the car, truck, tent, home and camper working on these things. We’re not done, yet. There’s more adventures to come!

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