Romance on the Road: Keeping Love Alive in the Passenger Seat
Wednesday, June 2, 2010 at 01:51PM As a couple’s therapist, I see all kinds of fights: squabbles over cleaning, cooking, finances, childcare, and yes, even the remote control. But one fight surfaces over and over, regardless of age, education, or sexual orientation. How you handle it can put you back on the right track (or the wrong one)
I’m talking about the dreaded car fight. What happens in the car is often a powerful reflection of how your relationship works, starting with how you decide who sits where; and when couples fight over driving, it’s never just about who has the best sense of direction or parallel parking skills.
The Highway of Love, POV
Once source of tension comes down to a deceptively simple question: what’s really happening? The world can look and feel dramatically different, depending on where you sit. For the passenger, who lacks the reassurance of a wheel firmly in hand a brake securely under foot, every decision feels more jarring. The pot holes seem bigger. Cars look closer. Your own car feels faster (though the speedometer says otherwise) It’s a strange thing, the way the universe shifts when you move from one side of car to the other, but my wife and I have both experienced it, and once we both figured it out, our road trips became a whole lot smoother.
How a couple works out these differences in perception says a lot about their ability to negotiate differing perspectives in general. Do you trust your driver’s perception or yours? Can you accept that both perceptions might be valid, or do you insist that you know exactly what’s happening?
Granted, there’s such a thing a bad driving, but in the vast majority of arguments I’ve seen over what’s happening, there’s a good measure of confusion about the actual events—and that I chalk up to the problem of differing perspective. Still, this whole point of view problem is nothing compared to bumpy ride caused by what’s lurking in the unconscious during even the most innocent day-trip to corner drug store.
Romantic Detours: Avoiding Dangers Down the Road
Few of us stop to consider what it actually means to be in a car. We’re far too busy just thinking about how to get from point A to point B. At the same time, chances are you’ve seen or read stories of the fatal car accident that happened the night before; you know people who’ve lost loved ones in a tragic collision. You can’t dwell on any of this while driving. Like most deeply unsettling truths, the dangers of driving get relegated to the darkest corners of our minds. This is as it should be. None of us needs to consider our mortality at every turn. The problem is, the fears don't go away. Just beyond conscious awareness, some of the biggest human questions about trust and intimacy, independence and dependence, and control and surrender, are played out within the tiny space of a car. Here’s where the real fighting starts—and where the car becomes such a volatile, intimate space.
Let’s start with brute fact: A car is a blessing, but it’s also a potential hazard. In facing this truth, you can assume at least two positions. You can put yourself in charge— in the driver’s seat, as it were (and is); or, you can sit in the passenger seat, dependent on someone else to navigate the dangers ahead.
Dependence, of course, is the key here. The very fact that you essentially put your life in someone else’s hands—or choose not to— makes the car a profoundly important psychological and emotional space. All kinds of fears and longings get projected on to seat position, leading to all kinds of fights. A fundamental question in any romance is, Can I rely on you? Seat position throws the question into jarringly clear relief.
Hot Seats
Consider the two simplest solutions to what I call the car problem:
1) Avoid all awareness of dangers of the road (and the world) by letting someone else face it; in other words, let someone else drive. In this solution, it’s the driver’s responsibility to shield the passenger from the startling reality that precious little is keeping them alive, save a couple of air bags, half an inch of metal and—with a little luck—a collective commitment to common sense.
2) Convince yourself that the dangers of the road (and world) can only be avoided if you’re in control. It’s the passenger’s job here to be grateful and never question your judgment.
These are the starkest solutions to the car problem. In practice, things are rarely so simple. Most couples recognize something of themselves in each position. They switch back and forth, or one partner reluctantly settles into the driver’s seat sometimes, and the passenger seat at others. Nevertheless, they all reach the same tacit agreement: to avoid all talk of things dangerous (most of the time) and focus on more trivial matters of the road. In this way, passenger and driver try hard not to point out the 300 pound gorilla in the back seat: namely, that you’re both cruising around in a bomb on wheels.
It’s a pretty effective agreement. In fact, most of the time, you won’t feel any fear at all. As “Ahnold” quipped in the Terminator series, “anger is more useful than despair”; in the car, we often trade fight for flight. Instead of open worry, there are squabbles over the right way to park; the best directions; the quickest routes; the best time to change lanes. As intense and explosive as these conflicts can be, they’re all a attempt to dodge the real issue: Driving is perilous. For the most part, our agreement to argue over more mundane concerns instead of being afraid works seamlessly in the background—until reality intrudes.
Reasoning with a Gorilla
It happens in an instant. Someone cuts you off. Your adrenaline spikes. Your face turns red. Out come the profanities. All at once, those dark corners of your mind are rattled, even if briefly, by the perception of danger.
All well and good—until someone else is sitting next to you (or behind you). The passenger faces a new problem: now that neither of you can deny the dangers of driving, can you, the driver, be trusted to keep things safe? Can the passenger understand the choice you made?
The 300 pound gorilla is loose in the car.
How have you resolved your fears? Are you convinced the key to safety lies in your being in control of the wheel? If this is how you ward off all the unconscious dangers of driving (and life), you’ll insist on being in the driver’s seat every time. It might even be your characteristic stance (if I’m in control, safety is assured), driving a wedge between you and your partner (and others) on a regular basis. You’ll argue to the death that you might the right decision when you chose to change lanes in front of that SUV.
Witness a typical interaction:
He: I just can’t stand the way you drive. You never know where you’re going.
She: You rarely let me drive!
Me (naïve young therapist): Has she ever had an accident?
He: No (she, smiling, no doubt feeling vindicated)
He again, after a pause: I don’t know why I have to do all the driving. It gets exhausting. I wish she would just learn to focus.
Me (still naïve): Good idea. You might need to leave a little room for her to stumble through things, even if it makes you feel anxious. She’s never had an accident, so whatever glitches you’re seeing might just smooth out with more time behind the wheel. Maybe it just feels more comfortable being the one at the wheel and you focus on her errors, to confirm that it’s safer for you to take charge. Maybe it would help to distinguish between small errors of learning and dangerous mistakes? Do you think this relates to you fears about trusting her in general?
He: You’ve obviously never been in the car with her.
More often than not, driver/protectors secretly resent the fact that they have to face all the dangers alone. Unfortunately, as much as they’d love to be relieved of their duty, they suspect no one else is up to the task. They’re the passengers that find fault with every wrong turn, every instance of navigational ignorance—and usually use it as a reason to take back the wheel. Frequently, my clients who solve the car problem in this fashion have an overinflated sense of how much their control protects them from the dangers of the world. The deeper this belief, the tighter their grip on the wheel. They make no distinction between different driving styles and unsafe driving. They’re not driving, so it must be unsafe.
On the other side—or rather, in the passenger seat—there’s plenty going on as well. People who prefer the passenger seat often reluctantly (and unconsciously) surrender control over the dangerous space of the car by telling themselves they’re safe as long as someone else is at the wheel. They turn a blind eye to any worry the driver might have. Sometimes they don’t even want to hear about it, since driver anxiety ruins the illusion that a car is completely safe as long as the driver doesn’t screw up (a stance that’s easy to maintain if you seldom drive). The troubling truth is that some accidents (and near accidents) can’t ever be avoided. But the perpetual passenger is loath to be reminded of that—until something happens to rattle those dark corners again. The driver swerves. He starts swearing. The tacit agreement has been broken.
Out come the questions. Why do you get so angry? What were you thinking?
On with the fight.
As a passenger, you’re always unconsciously confronted with questions about placing your life in someone else’s hands—and because of that, you’re confronted with questions about whether or not you can trust anyone at all. How much have you been able to rely on others? How much have you been able to sit back and relax (or have you always been expected, by others and by yourself, to keep everyone safe?).
A driver faces similar questions. How often have you been hurt when others were in charge? How often have you been let down? Do you dare trust someone else to be in control? Have people expressed faith in your capacity, or doubted it at every turn (including your partner)?
I explore some version of all these questions when couples report fighting in the car, and every time I do, a wealth of important material surfaces about lost loves, broken hearts, abandonment, and trauma. How could it be otherwise? Only one other situation so closely mirrors the car problem: childhood—where we first learn whether or not it’s safe for others to be in control of what happens to us.
Exit Ahead
For couples who keep fighting in the car, I often suggest a simple exercise. Challenge yourself to sit in a different seat.
The exercise goes beyond just talking about what thoughts and feelings you have in each seat (or role). It means discovering what you gain by changing position. It’s all too easy to focus on the dangers in life and love. Change comes more easily when you consider all the feelings and experiences you’ve missed, but could enjoy.
Here’s an example. If your prefer being the driver—in charge, facing the dangers of the world and the road for both of you—consider for a moment, just how much you’ve given up. Wouldn’t it be nice to sit back and relax, safe in someone else’s hands? How nice to close your eyes, or gaze out the window and day dream! Have you ever even had the chance? What would it be like to take a trip and not have to face the problem of when to turn next or how to avoid highway traffic? What else would you think about if your weren’t pondering the best route through traffic or life?
If you’re the perpetual passenger consider this: How nice to decide what happens and when, and feel good about taking care of your partner. How nice to know someone trusts you so deeply that they’ll let you lead the way. Why shouldn’t you enjoy the sense of independence and agency of being trusted at the wheel? Why shouldn’t you be allowed to develop your own style in navigating traffic (and life)?
Recognizing the upside of each new position can help you move into a new role and open up to feelings you haven’t enjoyed before. It also helps surface the basic fears providing fuel your fights. Suddenly, each of you understands more deeply what the other feels. You understand the dread of having to make decisions behind the wheel. You understand the fear behind your passenger’s need to control what happens.
In the end, you’re never fighting about logistics in the car. You’re fighting for a sense of safety—in life and in your relationship. When you talk openly about these fears, you’ll find the best route to Denny’s seems to matter a whole lot less.
Who knows, maybe you’ll even end up in the backseat.
If you like my posts, let me know! Let's connect on facebook and twitter. I frequently respond to comments and questions there. And feel free to check out www.drcraigmalkin.com for more tips and advice, as well as information on my book in progress.
Reader Comments (15)
Great ideas and insights, Craig. Now I can fix my wife! Seriously, she (and I) perceive things so differently when we are behind the wheel or in the "suicide seat." And the parallels to our other conflicts and trust issues are powerful. Thanks a lot.
Dr. Malkin, This describes me and my boyfriend to a T! Although in our situation the roles are reversed, and I can't relax when he drives (I'm always sure he's braking too late, etc). I'd like to try letting myself be the passenger, as you suggest, but I practically jump out of my skin when he's behind the wheel. how do I enjoy the time to daydream as you suggest, when my heart is racing a million miles per hour?? Thanks!
@Mitch Feigenberg
Glad you found it helpful. Thanks for your comments!
@Jennifer Sutherland
Great question, Jennifer. If you’ve had no accidents at all with your bf driving, your heart-pounding moments may came down to a style you’ve developed to feel secure across most situations—in or out of a car: keep your guard up and look out for trouble. Sometimes people tell themselves they’ll be safe if they just stay vigilant enough. The cure is relaxing your guard long enough to see that all that vigilance isn’t protecting you from anything at all. (If you’ve had any serious accidents and/or traumas, your heart-racing could stem from a problem that merits a much closer look than this: if so check with your doctor about how to proceed)
First, I’d encourage you to think about whether or not you have trouble just letting yourself be in anyone’s hands at all; take a good hard look at your willingness to trust, in general. Is it something you could work on? Second, you might even consider acknowledging that pesky gorilla: talk openly with your bf about what your experiences with trust have been and what kinds of strategies (short of back seat driving) would help you feel calmer. You could even try an experiment: lean back, close your eyes and put your hand on his leg (or ask him to hold your hand at stops). Touching helps boost your oxytocin—a neurotransmitter (brain chemical) known to create feelings of relaxation, closeness, and trust. It’s the same chemical released during breast-feeding and orgasm—pretty powerful way to counter that flight/flight response you're describing. Thanks for your question. Happy daydreaming!
Disclaimer: As with an advice column, these suggestions should never take the place of consulting directly and formally with a professional about any of your concerns. If you’re in a great deal of distress, always schedule an appointment with a doctor, health care provider, or mental health professional, to help determine how best to proceed.
Thanks for these insights, Dr. Malkin. They certainly jibe with my experience. If someone suffers from anxiety a ride or drive in a car will definitely tend to make these feelings more evident. I might add that our navigation device has saved us an enorous amount of friction dealing with navigation. I wonder how many marriages those things have saved!
Great advice! While it's extremely difficult for a control freak like me to let someone else do the driving, I've recently been forcing myself to let my husband do the driving in peace. I've made great progress, but I don't think I have it nailed down yet. One thing that helps is for me to force myself to look at something out the window that I could not look at with such attention if I were the driver. It reminds me of when I was a kid and I didn't think at all about other drivers or the rules of the road. Interesting association you make between being a passenger and being a child - food for thought!
Great strategy, Harriet (similar to others I recommend). I love the idea of choosing (and I assuming enjoying) scenes and objects the driver can't really look at. It puts the emphasis on what you gain.
@Chris Haberbosch
I imagine the GPS has saved more than a few relationships. Glad you found the article helpful.
You really get it. Anytime you get into the rolling cage on wheels, its like UFC on Friday night!
This has given me some food for thought. I do most of the driving for our nuclear family and I have often felt very uncomfortable when my husband makes left turns because he is better able to judge distance than I am. I think we have handled that issue in our marriage (husband just ignores my involuntary gasp) but I see the same type of behavior from my mother when I drive her around. I always drive too fast according to her complaints. Any way to apply this stratedgy to elderly mothers?
@Chris M
Hi Chris,
Common problem, I think. It’s a slightly different dynamic from romantic relationships, but it couldn’t hurt to try to talk to her directly about trust. Regardless, I’d try the direct (assertiveness) approach of just telling her how you feel and what you need: “Mom, can I ask for your help with something? When you comment on my driving it puts me on edge and distracts me (I’m guessing here). I’ll feel a lot less tense when I’m driving if you focus on something else to manage your anxiety, like listening to music or taking in the scenery.”
Hi again Craig, What a great article. Is there anyone who completely trusts another when not driving? I always thought my fear was just age-related. I don't recall having such anxiety when driving at a younger age. We actually are leaving on a 4 hour road trip for vacation in a week and I will practice your advice along the way. My love to the your girls....all 3. Love, Aunt Laura
Just wanted to say that I work with active duty soldiers who talk a lot about getting into with their spouses while driving. Although they describe probelms specifically associated with combat experience (e.g., IEDs) and driving, a lot of times the conflict really does seem to be indicative of the dynmics of their relationship. I think I'll usse soem of these suggetions.
[...] you’ve spent any time at all on the road (or read my previous posts), you already knew this. In Keeping Love Alive in the Passenger Seat, I explored how a simple fight can often mask deeper existential and relational anxieties. But [...]
[...] know what keeps it alive (that’s true of a lot of problem behaviors–for more examples, see: Romance on the Road, Part I and Part II, Why Your Neighbor is Your Next True Love, and info on my book about controlling [...]