What My Husband Cooking Dinner Taught Me About Myself

"I should be doing something."

It feels like a pretty reasonable thought to have. But this week I was reminded how that one thought often keeps me from being present, has me judging myself and, as a result, avoiding certain situations.

(Author note: As I'm typing this, I'm very conscious that reading it back I sound slightly mad, but I've decided I'm okay with that. So often, when it comes to our own patterns, even after years of doing this work, you can still uncover one that's been quietly shaping your experience without you ever noticing it. It's one of the things I love most about this work, and one of the reasons I still work with my own coach. It would be easy to think that, as a coach, I should be able to see these things. But the truth is, some patterns can take us years to uncover ourselves, while someone else can spot them in a matter of minutes. And for me, this was one of those patterns.)

Anyway, I digress... back to dinner.

The Night My Husband Caught Me Distracted

The other night my husband was cooking dinner and asked if I was okay because I seemed distracted. I was sitting there on my phone and, to be fair, I wasn't really present. I sighed in response and said, "I find it stressful when you cook dinner."

For context, he used to be a chef. Cooking is his happy place, and all he'd asked was that I sit there with a glass of wine and chat to him while he cooked. So he looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Fair enough I guess.

He wasn't asking me to help, he wasn't even expecting me to set the table or wash the dishes. He simply wanted to spend time together. So hearing me say that I found it stressful was understandably a little bewildering. But for me, it was stressful. Why? Because sitting still while someone else was doing something for me felt deeply uncomfortable.

The whole time I was thinking: "I should be doing something."

It wasn't until I slowed down and became curious about why that thought felt so uncomfortable that I realised it wasn't really about my husband cooking dinner at all.

Where the Pattern Really Started

Growing up as one of five children, there was always plenty to do. Like I now find myself saying to my own son, I was often asked to get up and help and somewhere along the way, I made that mean that if I wasn't helping, I was doing something wrong, that I might get into trouble.

Of course, as an adult, there is absolutely no concern about my husband telling me off because I'm sitting while he cooks. But that's the fascinating thing about our brains. They don't always respond to what's happening in front of us. They often respond to the meaning we attached to similar situations years ago.

Without even realising it, I'd been trying to escape the feeling of discomfort by reaching for my phone. I wasn't enjoying scrolling. I was simply distracting myself from the discomfort I was feeling.

Taking It to My Own Coach

When I took this to my own coaching session, I genuinely believed the solution was that I'd simply rather my husband didn't cook dinner. My reasoning was simple: if he wasn't cooking, I wouldn't feel stressed. Yes, I know, it sounds ridiculous now….but that's exactly how patterns work. They convince us that the problem is the situation, when often the situation is simply revealing something that's already there.

As we talked it through, I realised I'd been trying to solve the wrong problem. I thought the perfect solution was my husband no longer cooking dinner. I hadn't even considered that he could cook dinner and I could be present and happy.

Loosening the Grip of an Old Story

That's the thing about patterns. Until you become aware of them, they quietly shape your experience without you even realising it. But once you see them, their hold begins to loosen. You can question whether the story is actually true, whether it's still serving you, and whether there's another way of experiencing the same situation.

Learning That Presence Is Enough

Now when he's cooking, I put my phone down and sit at the bench talking to him and I'm not going to lie, it still feels uncomfortable at times, afterall I spent a long time unknowingly thinking, "I should be doing something, or I'll get into trouble," so it makes sense that unwinding that pattern will take time.

But at least now I know I'm no longer trying to solve the wrong problem. And that sometimes simply being present, is actually doing something. Which, it turns out, was all my husband wanted from me in the first place.

As a bonus, I still get an amazing meal cooked for me, while I sip on wine and chat.