Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Fighting the Good Fight

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm half Italian. Not only Italian, Sicilian. Just, you know, in general I mean business. Business. Do not dance with me.

Kidding, kidding. (No really, I'm not kidding. I've had uncles advise me that it would only take one phone call, should I be messed with. Do not dance with me.)

Anyway, it's funny because I've learned that people from different areas of the world totally fight differently. My boyfriend is half Scottish and his idea of a fight is to act indignant for a good reason, then for no reason, then get emotional and make up over a double shot of whiskey. I, on the other hand, tend to start yelling and keep yelling until one or both of us is beat into submission. It's usually me. While one half of me is Italian and one half of him is Scottish, one half of both of us is Irish, which throws a whole other passive-aggressive monkey wrench into the equation. The Irish are not historically skilled at expressing themselves in appropriate ways and they also rely on dark liquors to get through life.

Fighting may be relationship poison, or it may be what keeps a relationship evolving. Either way, you have to be in tune with your inner fight. Let's talk fighting cliches that may or may not be true.


  1. Ethnicity aside, I think we fight the way we were taught to fight. My mother's family fights with passion, vigor, and volume. My father's family pulls away in both affection and attention. I fight with an interesting combination of the two. When I'm hurt I pull away until I can articulate why I'm hurt and how it can be fixed. When I'm fighting for someone else, what I believe in or for something I want, it's with passion.

  2. I am the perfect combination of my parents. My mother is a total Sicilian, in that she is loud and she fights at the drop of a hat. My father is quiet and needs some time to get revved up. I completely withdraw when confronted, and then, after a few minutes, totally EXPLODE with rage (that lasts about a minute and is replaced by remorse and the need to make everyone happy again; perhaps some homemade pizza would help?)

  3. Me = 1/2 Sicilian, 1/4 Irish, 1/4 Iroquois.
    BF = 1/2 Northern Italian, 1/4 Irish, 1/4 Blackfoot Indian.

    I feel your pain.

  4. Sounds to me like these fights should culminate with a couple pints of Guinness and slices of Sfincione.

  5. Oh how I love this post. I am Austrian, Greek (we think) and Irish, mostly. In heated relationship arguments, I can't raise my voice, because then I cry. I try to be angry and I cry. Even if I don't feel like crying, it just happens. It's pitiful, and after a while, annoying and not effective.