Advice for the Otherwise

Carolyn Hax had a super thought-provoking piece of advice (it’s a gift link, so it shouldn’t count as one of your free WaPo views) this week that had me nodding until a twist in the final paragraph. And then, I guess, it had me thinking.

So the situation is that a person is complaining that their partner doesn’t take care of their health. They are okay not nagging in the short term, but they’re frustrated thinking about a future when they possibly can’t go off on adventures together because they are caring for their partner at home.

Carolyn tells them to go on the adventures, especially if they made that intention clear now, to give the person time to adjust. She points out:

The two individuals in a couple have a choice: to resist their stark differences day in, day out, suffering the attrition of baseless hope, or to accept them and factor them in. Embrace the individual you love as-is, even if it means your long-term goals and short-term plans sometimes send you in different directions.

But she finishes her advice with a twist: “If you, for example, intend to adventure solo in the event that his health grounds him, then say so — urging him to do the same if you’re the less mobile one. (Anything can happen.).”

I’ve thought about it a lot since I covered the rollout of the Affordable Care Act. The point of social programs is to cover people who are living the “otherwise” with the understanding that any of us could be living the otherwise at some point.

For example, we don’t need X now, though someone else does, and I sure would want it in place if I needed it. X can be any help we would want for ourselves if we were in a different situation. I look at paying taxes and paying for social programs in the same way as paying for insurance. I hope I don’t need to use it, but if I do, I will be happy that it’s in place. And I don’t mind paying now and helping someone else who does need this program at the moment because that’s how insurance works. I don’t pay for it with the hope that I have to use it. I pay for it with the hope that I never have to use it. And in the meantime, someone else does have to use it, and I’m not bitter about it because I wouldn’t want to be in that situation.

Makes sense?

So Carolyn’s advice was sound, but considering that last piece, I don’t think I would go adventuring on my own just because my partner made poor choices now. I wouldn’t want them to leave me on my own if I wasn’t able to travel because the same action moves from a consequence (you did X, so I do Y) to a punishment (x happened to you, so now I’m going to pile on the frustration and do Y).

What are your thoughts?