Last week Lindsey was in town. For those of you know Courtney, Lindsey is her older sister (therefore my oldest sister by default).

She was in the UK because she was the leader of a high school field trip from Connecticut. We snuck away where we could. First time was Saturday night in London.

Drinks along the waterfront of Canary Wharf. Chilly breezes, cold wheat beers, two years of catch up to do. Twenty two years of knowing each other makes the catch ups much shorter.

Cut straight to the business and we’re able to move on from our daily activities quite quickly to debating our views on politics, life lessons, feminist values, social constructs, astrological signs and our sisters. That’s generally the genres that we discuss, but the order is up for grabs. On average, we are able to dissect the world and all its problems in under three hours – the same was true on Saturday.

After a good twenty minutes of passionately debating the state of marriage today and its place in our society (more specifically the fact that there isn’t a conversation happening regarding women losing their identity in changing their name to the man’s), I felt refreshed. Frankly, we disagreed on many points – that’s not true. We didn’t disagree, but we challenged the other in their own viewpoints. Let’s be honest, Lindsey is firm in her views, and she challenged me. Nevertheless, it got heated at times, and to the average onlooker, it may have appeared that we were fighting. No, to the English, it would have appeared that we were full-on arguing.

But then, Lindsey had to go to the bathroom. She got up, left for a couple of minutes, came back, and sat down. We looked at each other and started cracking up. We laughed, and then moved on to something else, I don’t remember what- perhaps fashion in London.

It got me thinking about the last time I really was able to openly debate something. I learned quite quickly in my own relationship with Jock that he didn’t view disagreeing, debating or challenging someone on their views in the same way that I did. It happened one day when he said, “God, I can’t believe how often we argue. I’ve never argued with anyone else in my life.” I looked at him perplexed, and said “What are you talking about? I don’t think we argue much at all!”

It was as if we were having two separate relationships. You see, I get a kick out of those spirited disputes and always have done. I find I learn something about myself from them, about the world and usually just like the banter and sense of theatricality. He views it as a personal attack on him and sees it as muddying the waters for no reason. Now that I’ve lived in England for over a year, I get why he does. It’s not kosher to vehemently disagree with someone to their face – even if you just want to hear their reasons for it.

And, of course there are ways to go about it this debate. I like to think I’m not obnoxious in my approach.

Lindsey and I were able to look at each other and laugh because we both knew it wasn’t personal, that it wasn’t attacking the other. It simply felt good to get it off our chests. It was a sense of achievement when we finished the conversation with no outcome.

Perhaps as Americans we clear our minds through these debates? It helps us to figure out what we really think on the topic and by hearing it out loud, it sheds light on our true feelings? Or is it a woman thing?  Or am I simplifying it completely and it varies on the person?

I know in the South of the USA, politically correctness and politeness is more the norm, but I’ve never met a Southern woman who didn’t stand up for what she believed in.

Either way, I miss those fiery tête-à-têtes. And, I don’t get why we can’t talk about religion, politics, etc – doesn’t that just make for a more interesting conversation?

I’ve learned to temper them, but be warned – when I come back to America – it’s on!

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