A few weeks ago, I asked a close male friend to look over this essay about a tough moment between my husband Hal and me on a long, hard day of walking the Camino de Santiago. I was worried it was too honest, too personal, too raw a description of how things escalate fast when people who love each other get tired and frustrated and mad, and counter grump with grump instead of wising up and fixing things.
I wanted the friend to tell me, straight up, whether the story might hurt Hal’s feelings, or embarrass him. But when I told Hal I’d done this, he said, “WTF?! Just send it. I’m a big boy.”
Here’s the reply Hal sent:
So I did. Here’s the result: