HONEST, NOT HONEST

I am confused. Again. Coincidentally, it is the same day as Part 1.

Here was the situation that led me to this feeling:

G asks me if I want a milkshake. I say, “Yes!” with enthusiasm. He notices a drive through and asks if I want to drive through or go into the shoppe. I told him that I find drive throughs to ruin the experience of something joyful like getting a milkshake because it seems like an activity that should involve lingering and slowness. 

We go into the sweet shop, order milkshakes, and after they are delivered I ask if he wants to take a seat and enjoy our milkshakes together. He opts to sit in the car so we can be with the puppies. This makes me feel leery because he is often annoyed about the dogs around food in a confined space. Oh well, I think to myself, that’s his emotion to manage, not mine.

We are drinking our milkshakes and while I am not even half done, he starts the car and puts it into reverse. I ask him if we are leaving. I think he catches himself because he says, “Oh, you’re not done.” Per usual, I feel invisible. I feel as though he’s trying to leave. I feel like I am enjoying our time together and he is onto the next thing, never in the present moment.

I keep eating.

Then I’m not even three fourths done, he asks me if I want to go see the new chicken restaurant down the street. I sigh and say, “Sure.” I would prefer NOT to be driving while I am still enjoying my milkshake, but given that this is the second time he wants to leave, it’s less frustrating if I just give in.

He shows me the chicken restaurant and then starts driving. I ask him to stop and suddenly I don’t want my milkshake. It feels gross in my mouth and cumbersome to consume. “I don’t want a milkshake because I want to eat a milkshake. I want a milkshake because we are eating a milkshake together. You trying to leave doesn’t make me feel like we’re eating a milkshake together. It feels like you’re eating a milkshake and I’m eating a milkshake and when you’re done, it doesn’t matter what I am.”

And we’re back to the problem:

I don’t feel any better when he apologizes. I don’t want his apology. I want the action to stop. I want some attempt for him to understand what my words mean through curiosity or exploration… anything.

If I say I find drive throughs to ruin the experience of something joyful like getting a milkshake because it seems like an activity that should involve lingering and slowness. I want him to stop and think about what that statement may mean for me related to the experience of getting a milkshake and… 

1. Potentially attempt to help curate that experience.
2. Ask questions if he doesn’t understand what that statement means.

He takes no action with the information.

How am I supposed to help myself get what I want out of our engagements?

At its core, my frustration seems to be that:

1. I’m expressing something meaningful (like the joy of lingering, savoring, slowing down)
2. He hears the words but doesn’t seem to process or integrate them
3. When he moves forward without engaging in what I expressed, I feel invisible

It’s not just about the milkshake or the mealworms—it’s about whether he’s actively trying to understand what matters to me.

So, what’s the right question?

Maybe it’s not “How do I make him stop doing this?” but rather “How do I invite him into my experience in a way he actually engages with?” Instead of focusing on stopping an action, maybe the focus needs to be on helping him see why it matters and how he can join me in it.

Potential Paths Forward:

1. Reframing My Request So It Becomes an Invitation, Not a Reaction

When I say things like “Drive throughs ruin the experience”, I’m stating a truth about myself. But it might help to connect it directly to an experience I want to share with him instead of just stating a preference.

Example:

• Instead of: “Drive throughs ruin the experience of something joyful like getting a milkshake because it seems like an activity that should involve lingering and slowness.”
• Try: “Getting a milkshake is really about the experience for me—the joy of taking our time, sitting together, and fully enjoying it. Can we make this a little adventure instead of a task?”

This makes it less about the “rule” of slowness and more about an experience I want to build with him.

2. Asking Him a Question to Spark His Own Engagement

Since I want him to think more deeply, what happens if I ask him something that nudges his brain into curiosity?

• “What do you love about getting a milkshake?”
• “What makes something feel like a fun experience for you vs. just something to check off the list?”

It may encourage him to start forming his own relationship with the experience rather than just reacting to mine.

3. Reflecting Back His Actions to Create Awareness Without Blame

If his instinct is to apologize and move on, it might be because he doesn’t actually understand the disconnect. Maybe it helps to reflect back his behavior in a way that highlights the pattern rather than blames him for it.

• “Hey, I noticed that when I said I wanted to enjoy our milkshakes, you agreed, but then you kept trying to leave before I was ready. I think sometimes we have different speeds for savoring moments—what do you think?”

This allows for a conversation rather than a correction.

4. Acknowledging When He Does Show Engagement—Even in Small Ways

I struggle to feel good about apologies because what I really want is for the action to stop, but simultaneously he will need small wins to change a long-standing habit.

So when he does pause, or ask a question, or linger for even a minute longer than usual, maybe it helps to say:

• “I really liked that you caught yourself just now. That made me feel like you were thinking about me.”

This doesn’t erase the frustration, but it builds positive reinforcement for the thing I actually want more of.

I am totally overwhelmed by all of these things that I should consider doing. I need to think about small bites of the elephant.