There have been a few discussion in my life lately regarding marriage and why and how people choose to make this leap and stay together. My mother says it's a covenant for her, friends fall in love and marry for love, some marry for the green card, others for practical reasons. I'm watching numerous friends and family plan to marry and listening to the hopeful ways they think marriage will play out. I'm also watching the first of friends divorce. Engagements are such a hopeful thing, rather idealistic, and so full of promise.
The number these days seems to be that 50% of marriages fail in America. We rely on love--that funny, fleeting, belly dropping, swoony feeling--to coast by on, to drive our sex lives, to make us feel wanted, needed, and oh-so-special. We have friends who married in the "bunny-hump, baby-I can't-get-enough-of-your-hot-body" phase. And when that fades? They wonder what happened, awakening from this drunken, hyper-sexualized place they've been in. And it's a magical, wonderful place. You lose weight, you glow, you feel amazing. And then life hands you a big ole' wake-the-hell-up dose of reality at some point. Hello!
We've been lucky in our relationship. We work hard to be happy and have taken drastic measures to do this at times (our moves are often related to this). But we've been rather careful, too, in the decisions we have made to keep us afloat. We don't have children; we haven't bought a house; we have odd jobs that allow us to be together and take off suddenly the way we want. We are carefully plotting and planning the next phase, our next steps. We have worked hard for what we have. We had hand-me-down furniture for the first seven years of our marriage. We were broke for most of the thirteen years we've been together. We didn't rush into things (some might say the marriage, but I don't think so: we didn't live together before, we didn't have a shotgun wedding, but we did get married young). We never followed the Joneses or needed everything others had. We didn't jump on bandwagons (kids, houses, cars, boats, dogs, and whatever else). We created our own goofy little niche.
We married for practical reasons. We also left the caveat in our relationship from the beginning that if life took us different ways, we'd be ok with that. We got married because taxes, school, and things like that made more sense to navigate together. We also really liked each other. We got along splendidly (we still do), and we had and have a very healthy dose of respect for each other. I used to think people found someone who could put of with their BS, but now I think it may be more that you find someone who respects your BS and helps you figure it out.
We spend a lot of time supporting each other. Not a day goes by that I am not told that I am loved. Not once, not twice, but many times each day. Not a day goes by that I don't say I love you; again, many times over. Sometimes I need a gentle reminder to put the computer/Kindle/book/distraction away to pay attention to who is right in front of me. And behind that gentle reminder are the words telling me how smart, creative, interesting I am. I don't seek this, but good grief, in a life that batters, tramples, and can be down right difficult and deflating, it's nice to have someone remind me of that, and to remind him of it, too.
It's Valentine's Day--a holiday we generally don't celebrate. Instead, we celebrate our meeting. Thirteen years now. And that is a long time and no time at all. We've left some stages behind us, but we've found balance, longevity, and a comfortable place to be. No games, no hidden agendas, no faking the single life (ugh, please stop doing this, other people), no friends to keep up with. We still get annoyed with each other, we still fight. Our fights, though, are ridiculous and so self-deprecating, and I've had to break up with tequila because of this. It's not a pretty sight when I'm a mess, his feelings get hurt because I'm picking on the way he cut the limes, and I'm crying that things are so great that the only thing I can pick on is how to cut the damn limes for Coronas. Yep, ridiculous, embarrassing in hindsight, and kind of (admittedly) cute (even though I did not look cute with my wobbly eyes).
I didn't expect my marriage to fail (who does?), but I am a pragmatist and a realist, and I knew that the possibility was always there (it is for every relationship). I'm also stubborn as hell, though, and not afraid to fight for the things I want. I know what works and doesn't work for my relationship, and I suppose that's the secret, isn't it? Patience, respect, and a huge amount of humor seems to get us through most things we've faced thus far, and I imagine it will be these things that sustain us.
Addendum: I came across this again today and felt others might enjoy reading it. I read it years ago, sitting in a quiet library in the heart of a cold Colorado winter. It's enough to warm you through:
http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2006/02/true-love/slater-text/1
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.