I didn’t like my marriage this week.
Now, keep in mind that I didn’t say anything akin to “I didn’t like being married this week” or “I didn’t like who I was married to this week.” No, I’m very clear when I say I didn’t like my marriage this week.
This week, my marriage felt stale. It felt too routine, like a sock that’s too stretched out and consequently abandoned in the back of the drawer. It felt forgotten about, like a bag of family-favorite nachos that someone forgot to seal. I’ve grown used to the feeling of a crunchy nacho when I’m in the presence of my partner, but this week I felt like there was something off. The chip didn’t crack when I bit into it. Dare I say I felt ignored, too? In fact, after Cody presented his idea of moving to Mexico for a couple months, I can’t help but admit that I felt second-best and second-choice – the cheaper cut of the meat. I wasn’t the gleaming learning opportunity just on the horizon or the soft sand beaches of wherever he would be going. No, I was the pouting wife who sort of hoped this whole plan would fall through. Am I a horrible person for thinking this way? Maybe. But I’d rather be honest.
This week made me understand why some couples don’t make it through the second year – and verified my belief that Cody and I will “make it” just fine.
This week, the lusty, I’m so in love with you feelings were not there. There was no honeymoon excitement or even an “I’m so glad I’m married” thought. No, this week, my marriage was dull.
But then we hung out with our niece and nephew on Saturday night and had a genuinely good time with them. We had breakfast with my parents before church on Sunday morning, and then we walked to the zoo with my other brother and his family. During all this quality time, I couldn’t help but notice how affectionate my husband was being and, over the course of the weekend, it was enough to remind me that I am definitely not second-best. This weekend, he held my hand and we talked about something other than monthly budgets, Roth IRAs, morning routine building, meal-planning, and financial independence. While we watched the Brookfield Zoo sea lions with Cody making jokes about the overweight seal sitting motionless as the other Geralds swam around, I realized things weren’t so bad. The super-in-love feelings weren’t gone for good, they just went dormant for a little while so that we could focus on other things. Although Cody may try to find ways to make his life better, I am the best thing. He made sure his quality time with me proved so.
This last week, I didn’t like my marriage, so I told my husband. Quality time and open communication patched that right up. Sometimes you have to talk about what’s bugging you if you ever hope to fix it. To make it better, you have to uncover the bandaid and let the wound breathe a little, even if it stings.
Now I’m here listing the things he does for me that often go unnoticed. When I start thinking I’m second-best, I realize it’s because I’m comparing the way he shows love with the ways somebody else might. So no, my husband doesn’t show love like everybody else.
Instead…
He does the dishes when I’m too tired after work.
He’ll take out the trash because his parents raised him to.
He’ll respond “Yes, ma’am?” when I call his name from across the room.
He’ll hold my hand when we’re fighting.
He opens his arms and clasps them around me when he sees I’ve had a long day.
He won’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, but he lets me have the last piece of Waffle House chicken.
He won’t buy me a card for the holidays, but he’ll buy me plane tickets to Hawaii to visit my best friend.
He won’t buy me a new dress and lay it on the bed, but he will bite his lip when I slip on his plaid long-sleeve.
He won’t announce on Facebook how much he loves me because it’s in the glint of his eye when I do or say something silly in front of his friends. It’s the kind of stuff I used to think made me “weird” or unlikeable. Turns out somebody loves the part of me I thought was undesirable.
He won’t post #wcw on one of my pictures, but he will put his hand on the small of my back and whisper, “You’re so beautiful.”
He won’t take me out to dinner every Friday, but he will light candles after putting a pizza in the oven.
I feel like I could go on, but I won’t. My point is, there are ways to make the chips crisp again. I didn’t like my marriage this last week, but I did choose love every day. And so did he. That’s why we’ll be just fine.
