Yesterday, my husband and I celebrated eleven years of
marriage. I’d like to say that they have been the best years of my life.
Unfortunately though, they have been some of the toughest and unlike anything I
have ever experienced. I have had to dig deep and have learned quite a few things
about myself, many of which I don’t like. Looking yourself in the mirror and
wondering, “I wonder if I would have married me” is pretty crazy, isn’t it?
Anyone who knows me, and knows me well, is well aware of the
fact that I have many self-imposed rules.
* I don’t drink or eat after others, regardless of who they
are.
.
* I can’t go to sleep at night without brushing my teeth and taking
a shower. If I happen to fall asleep, I will wake up, regardless of the time,
and do whichever I did not get around to before then.
* I can’t sleep without (my fuzzy) socks on my feet.
* I cannot speak, or eat, in the morning without brushing my
teeth.
* If I leave our house and go to a public place, I cannot sit on my furniture at home unless I change first.
* I cannot go anywhere outside my home and come back and sit
on my bed without changing my bottoms: pants/dress/skirt/shorts.
* I cannot leave the kitchen if there are dishes in the sink.
* I choose to eat at least half of my food before drinking any
liquids.
* If I am in a vehicle and eating finger food with unwashed
hands, I eat up to where my fingertips
touch and throw out the rest.
* I must do everything today that I can before tomorrow. I
have a why do tomorrow what can be done today philosophy.
So, imagine my husband, from a totally different background,
who is pretty laid back and lives a much more easy going life, meeting and
marrying someone like me with all my idiosyncrasies. Imagine me, with all my
self-imposed rules, marrying someone whose life’s motto is pretty much “live
and let live” and “let tomorrow worry about itself”. Of course we butt
heads, almost daily, but we’ve impacted each other for the better, to a certain
extent, I would like to believe.
Our days are not always full of wonder and love, but we do
our best to attempt to understand one another, knowing where our individual
strengths lie and attempt to respect them. We love each other whole-heartedly. Even
though I’m not the lovey-dovey type, he still kinda gets me. I’m not one
willing to be vulnerable, but even when he sees a glimmer of my vulnerability,
he treads lightly and does not take advantage of it. He understands I like my
space when I’m in one of my moods or if he catches me in an emotional state. I
tend to be the wounded pit bull that does not like to be comforted and just
allowed to have my ‘man up’ moment, and
he is very aware of that.
I know when to leave him be in his creative moments and to allow
him to let those juices flow when he’s in his element. Love in general is hard, so in our case in particular, it feels even harder. Our love requires
a lot of mutual respect and communication from both sides. We were raised very
differently and have very different life experiences that make our union difficult,
challenging, but very interesting.
Year eleven was the absolute hardest, with several hurtful words and
actions, but we made it. Everything isn’t perfect and probably never will be,
but we’ve gotta keep trying, right? Our pastor, and many others who love us, remind us
often how important it is to keep our marriage Christ-centered. If not for that
constant reminder and purposeful living, we never would have made it this far.
So, with all my kookiness, imagine us at dinner last night
celebrating our eleven years together. As I was examining the silverware for
dirt and water stains, my husband asked if I’d like a sip of his drink. As he reached over the table to get me an untouched straw, imagine his disbelief
when I said, “Nah, I’ll use yours.” His eyes bulged and he smiled, “Wait…we’re
going to share a straw?” (Yep, I have
a whole backwash thing as well.)
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