Nag vs Nurture: Which Do You Do?

by J. Courtney Sullivan

When it comes to mothering Colin, I rarely get the results I want. This makes the fact that I do it anyway all the more perplexing. I have always thought that trying to change another person’s behavior is a little bit sick, and entirely pointless. (As my dad once told me, “Some people change, but most people don’t.”) Yet I can’t help genuinely agonizing over whether Colin keeps a doctor’s appointment or stays up until 4 A.M. on a school night. I could stop nagging him about it, I suppose, but I know I’ll never stop thinking about it.

When I worry about all this, I have to remind myself that Colin nurtures me, too—though he does it without any of the guilt or the nagging or the vain attempts at behavior modification that I employ. He makes sure I get out of bed in the morning, and occasionally reads aloud to me at night. He proofreads every story I write, and makes me stick to a deadline when I’d rather procrastinate by watching reruns of Will & Grace. In some ways, he could be accused of mothering me, I guess—although Colin would be a different sort of mom than I. I’d be the kind with brussels sprouts and bedtimes; he’d give Pixy Stix to all the kids in the neighborhood and allow his own children to watch cable TV when they should be playing outside.

I’ve often wondered if the mothering instinct is just part of being a woman in love—or if it’s an annoying urge that we must ignore if we want to keep romance alive and our dignity intact. But maybe trying to resist is just a waste of time. Maybe this is what happens when you share everything with another person—your hopes for the future, your worries and weaknesses. And sometimes, regrettably, your toothbrush. 
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J. Courtney Sullivan is the author of Dating Up: Dump the Schlump and Find a Quality Man (Warner Books).