t started with a simple moment: my husband Chad pulled the orange juice I’d just bought from the fridge, examined the label, and expressed apprehension about how it would taste. It was sugar-free, with added calcium – my attempt at a healthier option – but not the Tropicana he was used to.
I bristled. "If you don’t like it, don’t drink it," I retorted as my jaw clenched.
Later that evening, Chad sparked a conversation. He gently brought up my reaction to the OJ and pointed out that this wasn’t the first time recently that I’d been short with him. He explained where he was coming from, that he hadn’t intended to come across as critical, but he is just a natural skeptic. And, it’s true! It’s just the way he is wired, and he took this opportunity to explain he wasn’t trying to be negative, it’s just his tendency to be a bit skeptical of something new.
I listened and immediately understood his explanation. Further into our conversation, I realized and shared that when Chad criticizes something, even something small like my choice of juice, my inner critic starts up. I don’t just hear “This isn’t good,” I hear, “You can’t even get orange juice right.” I know it sounds exaggerated, but that’s how my insecurities speak to me at times.
If he had left the conversation there, it still would’ve been so beneficial. His explanation helped me to see him in a truer light, and hopefully I will be less likely to assume negativity in the future. It also held up a mirror for me to pay attention and stay curious about myself. It gave me an opportunity for important self-reflection and honest communication with Chad. We both then understood each other.
But, he didn’t end the conversation there. With a tenderness that took me by surprise, he said, “When I sense you're upset with me, even in the smallest way, it literally hurts my heart.”
The words landed like a weight on my chest. I hadn’t realized how deeply my reactions could wound him. He wasn’t just explaining himself; he was letting me see how much he values our connection. His honesty didn’t feel like a critique – it felt like a plea for us to be more careful with each other’s hearts.
Chad’s example has stayed with me, and I’ve realized how important it is to address the little cracks before they become chasms. I hope you can take something from this, too. How often do we let small moments of frustration go unspoken, thinking they don’t matter? But those moments, left unchecked, can build up and damage the foundation of even our closest relationships.
What cracks have you been ignoring? When was the last time you checked in with someone you care about – not to fix something, but just to be sure their heart is whole?
In the end, it’s never really about the orange juice, is it? It’s about how we show up for each other. It’s about seeing the other person fully, understanding their heart, and being willing to put our own guard down to make room for more connection.
And sometimes, it only takes a three-minute conversation to change the course of your relationship for the better.
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