My partner is the person I spend the most time with. Naturally, he is also the one who has seen the worst and the best of me. Though I must say 'the worst of me' phases are diminishing through a concentrated grit-teeth attempt of staying 'nice'.
Initially, I used to subscribe to the philosophy that a loved one is somebody with whom I can be whomever I want. While this still holds good, I have now attached a clinging caveat to it, '...whomever I want, as long as it doesn't hurt the other person.'
I came to this realisation after a particularly warty, wasteland of unhappiness I had to go through. It struck me that while I am saccharine sweet to the waiter who wouldn't offer me a glass of water at my death bed, I was snapping at my mother who would take the next plane home if I sneezed too much on the phone.
It's no consolation to think that this kind of behaviour isn't just something unique to me. Almost everybody I know operates this way. They are lovely to outsiders and terrible to those at home. Charming, polite and civilised to strangers, raging, curmudgeon monsters to people who care about them.
Doesn't it make more sense to reverse this pattern? Shouldn't we be ultra polite and say thank-you, thank-you to the person who makes us our daily dal? Mustn't we save our smiles for those who share our homes and hearts? Can't we reserve our best behaviour for the people who love us best?
Read more: The Most Irritating Question In The World
I have known intensely kind people; the sorts who would not only help an old lady off the train but even walk her to the right platform, go home and tear down the happiness of their teenager because the house key was misplaced.
These badly-behaved-at-home creatures come in many forms. I remember my friend's husband who used to work with me. At office, he was the light and soul of the department – cracking jokes with everybody, singing loudly, being alive, warm and invested in the place and the people. He would come home, growl at his wife and son, switch on the TV, eat food in front of it and maintain a grumpy, heavy silence till he went to work the next day.
Once, I asked him about this dual personality. He fixed me with that beady stare he saved for home and snarled, 'If I'm not nice here, I won't get my promotion.'
Really? Yes, there are no promotions or bonuses if you are wonderful to the people you live with. In fact, the only reward is not only intangible it's something you will not directly profit from. What it however does is, make a person with whom you have forged a very strong bond, happy.
It ensures that the people who will be by your side when all else fails, have a better life, unhurt by those who hold their hearts. Isn't that worthy of a change in behaviour?
Even love, like charity, has to begin at home.
'Still Figuring It Out’ a funny, sad, questioning take on adulthood will appear every Saturday on Asianet Newsable. Arathi Menon is the author of Leaving Home With Half a Fridge, a memoir published by Pan Macmillan. She tweets at here. The views expressed here are her own.
