Everyone likes to share their worries with their partner, but sometimes women really put their partner’s patience to the test.
Erika
My ex-girlfriend worked in the same office as a colleague named Erika. From Monday to Friday, I spent every evening hearing about Erika’s antics. She wore an orange skirt with blue tights, was rude to a client, messed up the schedule, badmouthed the boss, left three dirty glasses on her desk—Erika this, Erika that, Erika everywhere. I asked her several times to just sum up Erika’s daily drama in a few sentences because it was overwhelming, but she couldn’t.
The moment I got home, the Erika story would start again. I almost broke up with her until one day she happily told me Erika had quit! I was relieved, thinking my suffering was over, but no. Everything continued the same way, only Erika’s name was replaced by Andrea. When I realized my girlfriend would complain about anyone she worked with, I ended it with her. Even now, hearing the names Erika or Andrea makes my stomach twist.
The rule
I put an end to this by setting a rule. She can only share three things about her day: the worst thing that happened, the best thing, and what she would have done differently. It’s more constructive for both of us. I don’t tolerate negativity in my home.
Adapting
Complaints poured out constantly nonstop. When she walked in, while taking off her shoes and coat, cooking dinner, eating, cleaning up, showering together, and even in bed when I was almost half asleep. My solution? I learned to tune it out like white noise. Somehow, I developed the ability to not hear what she says but still repeat the last half sentence if she asks. (I don’t fully understand how it works, but it does—and it calms her down knowing I’m following her story.) That’s how we live now. It’s amazing how well people can adapt.
Sweetheart
With my previous girlfriends, we’d just exchange a couple of sentences about our day and that was it. Then I had a girlfriend who vented to me for hours, so I told her:
“Honey, I’m your boyfriend, not your girlfriend, so please save these endless complaints for them.”
She got upset but eventually got the message, and since then, peace has reigned.
The flood of words
My wife is a teacher, and I have to listen to her nightly monologues: the kids are terrible, the colleagues are awful, the system is broken, the pay is a joke, the rules are ridiculous. It’s the same story every single day, for years. I thought I’d get used to it, but it’s getting harder. I try to be supportive and nod understandingly. If I try to add anything, she doesn’t even hear me—she talks over me and keeps rushing through her monologue.
Even when she lets me speak rarely, I can tell she’s not interested in what I say—she’s just waiting for me to finish so she can continue her tirade. I’ve tried telling her this isn’t a conversation—that it’s always just her talking about herself—and she said she’d pay attention, but nothing has changed. I don’t know what to do anymore; I’m close to my limit.
Exhausted
After listening to my wife, who works as a head nurse, vent for an hour—or even hours—she always asks how my day was. By then, I’m so mentally exhausted that I just say “good” and leave it at that. That’s how, a week later, she found out from my mom that I’d had a conflict at work and quit. When she angrily asked why I hadn’t told her, I had to ask when I was supposed to—after her monologue, when I didn’t even have the energy to form words because her complaining drained me completely…?
