marriage

Year 3, Week 35: The Ten Commandments of Resolving Conflict

I always feel bad for those couples who say, “We’re together like, all the time. We do everything together!”

That’s great, but have you had your first fight?

Then they look at me like I’ve destroyed all the hope of love and romance in the world. But I’m just being realistic.

Because if they spend all their time together and they haven’t had their first fight yet, then are they more, or less, likely to reconcile once conflict inevitably arises?

There are a few principles we follow, fairly subconsciously, but could be explicitly stated here. I’m not professionally trained in conflict resolution, but enough experience has made me feel like I can share the

Ten Commandments of Resolving Conflict

Fight fair. We don’t say things that aren’t true just to “win” the fight.
Do not swear – not even for emphasis. It escalates the tension so quickly and it leads down a path of saying what you don’t mean.
Stay calm. This is so difficult but becomes easier with time, I promise. Deep breaths. Take ten. Inside voices. Use a stress ball if you need one.
Don’t slam any doors in your partner’s face. It communicates punishment and a literal halt to any continuance of conversation. I am so guilty of this. It honestly only prolongs the time it takes to get to the reconciling stage. Just don’t do it to yourself.
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Let your pride suffer and stay in the same room, or at least say, “I need some time. I’ll be back.” It sucks so bad, but it helps so much to leave the path of communication wide open. It says, “I don’t like you right now, but I still respect you.”
—————
Hug before it gets too bad. Cody’s infamous for wanting to be affectionate right when I’m about to blow. It’s something like, “C’mere. Hey. Shh.” along with a big hug. I swear it’s still from when he was three and getting into trouble with his Momma. I can just see him waddling over to his Mom’s leg and opening up arms for forgiveness. I suppose it works for me, too.
When you’re ready to fix the problem, hold hands. It shows that you’re committed to a solution. It reminds us that we’re in this together.
—————-

It’s not me against you. It’s us against the problem.
————-
Don’t make things more dramatic than they have to be in order to prove your point. Don’t try to intentionally manipulate, threaten, or scare your partner in order to get your own way. It’s just not worth it.
Do not offer drastic ultimatums. It suggests a lack of trust in your partner’s will and desire to be with you.
Don’t ever threaten divorce unless you actually, deep down, really mean it.
Remember what’s really important. Is the thing we’re fighting about actually important, or is it a little inconvenience that we’re upset about? Will this matter in ten years, a month, or a day? If it’s a huge discrepancy between y’all values, then it’s going to take more time to iron out and reconcile. But if it’s about coming home to see the meat hasn’t been thawed yet? Go grocery shopping together. Order a pizza. These are quick fixes and aren’t grounds for divorce.

These points work for us, but we’re always surprised when yet another conflict seems insurmountable and scares us into believing that we won’t “make it” through this next obstacle. Do you have any other ideas or approaches that work for you and your partner? Please share them below!

Year 3, Week 23: Rules From My Mother-In-Law

I distinctly remember the weeks leading up to 2013. I was second-guessing everything, especially my choice to be in such a serious relationship when I just 20 years old. As it goes with thinking the grass is greener on the other side, I believed that people my age were living it up, right in their refusal to be ‘tied down’, dedicating themselves instead to their ‘selfish’ years, while I was – on the other hand – making myself exclusive with a guy I’d known since high school. How could I possibly know that this relationship was the right one if I had barely experienced a relationship with anyone else? Right?

I have wonderful sisters-in-law who waded through the murky waters with me and asked the ultimate question: Can you see yourself with anyone else?

A week later, Cody asked me on the way to our New Year’s Eve celebration: Do you want to start this year single? What? That was an option? His question honestly scared the living daylights out of me and was enough to answer with an adamant No!

I know it was so tough for him to ask. It was a gamble, since I was clearly not totally ‘in’ but wondering if I should be. The thought of losing him felt like immediate suffocation. At almost-26, I want to roll my eyes, but I really can’t make it any less dramatic; I was 20. It was dramatic.

But there was a huge factor that kept me with Cody when just about everything else was pulling me out of the relationship: his parents. My future in-laws. I know it’s so different than the ‘typical’ woman’s experience, so if you don’t have a solid relationship with your in-laws, I hope you don’t take this as salt in the wound. I know I’m lucky. But I also think it’s not impossible to recreate in someone else’s life, either. While I wondered if I’d ever have anyone else remotely close to Cody, I also knew I’d never find another family quite as wonderful as his.

Even though I only had two decades behind me, I had heard the horror stories of in-laws who have made it difficult to function in a partnership, who weren’t supportive, who didn’t know how to keep their noses out, who wanted to sabotage the success of the relationship for one reason or another.

My in-laws, however, are the opposite. They call us out when we’re being unfair or dramatic, or they subtly suggest an alternate viewpoint. My favorite? One, or both, will throw out a joke to ease any tension.

I’ll never forget when I was becoming jealous over Cody’s ex-girlfriend one day and his dad, a man of few words, simply stated, “You’re going to have to accept that he has a past, just like he’ll have to accept yours. He’s here with you now, isn’t he?” And that was it. It was short, to the point, and the truth. I knew then that, if I were to marry Cody, my future father-in-law had our best interest at heart.

My mother-in-law, affectionately referred to as Momma Ray, is more involved – but in the best ways possible.

A few weeks ago, Cody called and told me that his mom would be staying with us for the week. Whenever I told my colleagues that morning, they tentatively waited for my reaction: was I happy about this? Was I going to be distracted all day, thinking of what I needed to put on display before my mother-in-law came to town? I quickly dispelled any concerns with a quick, “No, no! It’s okay! I love her!”

A week had passed, and new tensions still hadn’t arisen. There was no reason to complain – at all. And, honestly, it was so nice to see my husband so happy, knowing that he had to be loved if his Southern mother was choosing to spend a week in cold Chicago.

I know it is a bizarre phenomenon. It’s not expected. And I swear to the highest heavens that I’m not ‘killing with kindness’ or faking affinity for my mother-in-law.

The night before she was going to go back home, I asked Momma Ray why she thought we had such a solid relationship, after almost seven years of being in each other’s lives, totally breaking the usual stereotype. She thought about it for a little while and then share three main guidelines she follows.

Momma Ray’s Guidelines to Being a Mother-In-Law:

Don’t assume the worst. This is such a graceful act and one I appreciate so much. This means that even if I had done, or said something, that didn’t initially vibe with this woman, she gave me another chance to redeem myself. I’ve heard her muse that people could be having a rough day, or under a lot of pressure, and they may react uncharacteristically. She gives people so many chances. I’m relieved; when I’m a new mother and making decisions that she might not agree with, I know she’ll be patient with us – and not automatically assume that we’re the worst parents that ever tread the earth. My mother-in-law and I get along so well probably because we both give everyone the benefit of the doubt – maybe almost to a fault. But I think we’d both rather be this way, than the alternative.

Be realistic. As in, every new relationship will have bumps, so don’t assume your kid is always right. I’m so glad Momma brought this up, because it’s so true. I felt welcome from the very first visit to Cody’s hometown. When Cody said something incriminating (in jest, of course), I waited. I wanted to slap him, but didn’t want to make a scene. On the same beat, Momma Ray lifted an eyebrow, turned to me and said, “Want me to get him, baby?” I knew I was safe, then. I could share my own reactions and not worry that Momma would jump to Cody’s rescue (even though he was the one making trouble). Even though Cody has an amazing relationship with his mom, she’s never become a wedge in our relationship. She is able to separate her son-the baby and her son-the partner. Because she lovingly corrects her son, it in a way reminds me to be the best partner I can be, too.. not to avoid any confrontation, but because we’re free to make mistakes, but we’re expected to fix it, too.

Don’t take sides. I didn’t have to be married to Cody yet to feel like Momma was the advocate of our relationship, not just the advocate of her son. In fact, by the time we had said “I Do” I already felt like I was one of Momma’s own. She said herself, “Once y’all married you both became my kids equally and I wouldn’t take sides with my natural kids.”

I wish everyone had a woman like Darla to call ‘mother-in-law.’ She and my own mom share so many of the same values, like hard work, and grit, and grace. They lay down their own wants and desires for the good of the family and are most joyful when the people she loves are happy, healthy, and taken care of. Any less, and I swear she can’t relax.

What do I do to nurture and maintain such a good relationship with my mother-in-law? Well, I suppose that’s for another reflection.

Because they’re so awesome, we decided to give them a little gift 🙂

Year 3, Week 1: Fear Can Suck It

I don’t like being complacent. I don’t like when something is so stagnant for so long that it begins to feel like it’s dying. This strong dislike is probably why teaching as a profession sounded so alluring to me.

Now, I know, teaching –from the outside– seems like so much of the same: wake up for school, listen for when the bells tell you you might have enough time to go pee, have lunch at the school cafeteria if you forgot your bag at home, and come home to do more homework (if you have time after all your clubs and sports meetings are over). But that’s just the structure. The real meat of teaching is in all the time in between – the interactions you have with some kids who might trust you most in their world, the frustrations who have with some others whose personalities you just can’t mesh with, and the creativity that happens when make magic happen in your own classroom.

Creativity needs structure. And I have not had enough of it this past week. I’m making moves though – silently staking out different strategical posts to maximize my spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical health. Isn’t that what summer break should be about anyway?

Where does this all mesh in with my marriage?

Marriage is simply a structure. It is a set-up idea created by somebody who thought it’d be a good idea and others agreed with that somebody. In the end, it is a structure created by man. It’s frequently destroyed, re-assembled, or re-interpreted, for better or worse.

But the gifts of the structure, man. It’s something quite lovely.

My marriage allows me to feel complete freedom – which might strike somebody in the throes of their single life as a ludicrous statement. But hear me out – sure, I ‘don’t get’ to run around with all the Fabios of the world, but I have something that gives me more balance and ultimate joy. I am able to come home knowing and trusting that my man is coming home to me. To someone who has placed all their trust in someone and had it destroyed, I will argue that he was simply an arse and shouldn’t dictate your future happiness. But I digress.

Like one of my English professors once told us, “My wife tells me, ‘You can get hungry anywhere, but you have to eat at home.'”

Knowing that I will have a safe place to which I can return at the end of the day gives me the confidence to try a million endeavors and know that I will still have love to tuck me in at night even if I fail.

So I’m making the moves. I’m re-evaluating relationships that have grown stagnant and I am seeing if it’s possible to revitalize them. I am accepting to end those relationships when I realize it no longer has a pulse. I am so looking forward to growing healthier, more vibrant relationships over time. I know there will be empty space, but I’m allowing myself to be vulnerable in that place and looking forward to the journey.

I’m praying with greater earnest, following the “Thank you, I’m sorry, Please give me” method (it takes 5 minutes, but allows me to reflect on my day more intentionally before I fall asleep).

I am reading as much as I possibly can before teaching in August steals away a bit of my leisure time. I’m investigating self-publishing options to publish the first Wife Reflections Guided Journal: 52 Prompts for a New Wife and looking forward to finally finishing my first novel so I can set that up for publication before autumn.

And I just signed up for a 6-week fitness challenge with the hopes that I won’t just be considered “pretty” or “pretty skinny” but “strong” as well. My fear of never being good enough is having its final hurrah. That Ania is gone.

The structure of my marriage allows me to be more daring and creative in every aspect of my life.

Fear can suck it.

Year 2, Week 47: Helen and the Hell Hole, or “Laughter Makes Everything Better”

I didn’t think I’d ever be the wife who calls (yells) for her husband because of an insect. The sister of three older brothers, I thought I was pretty toughened up with the regular Joe household ants, spiders, and flies.

But then I moved to a garden apartment in a new neighborhood and witnessed my bravery decrease with every increase of size in creepy crawlers.

I was right to yell and scream with the surprise flights of a bat in our apartment a few years ago. And I was right to shriek with a roach in my bathroom – my sanctuary after long days. But nothing prepared me for the scuttle of pure evil that would shock me as I sat on the toilet or sleepily walked out of the bathroom to start my day.

After Cody realized that my reactions were not silly or hyperbolic, we got down to business. Much of our coping skills rely on our sense of humor. So here’s a log of our experiences.

Tuesday: What the hell is this thing with legs, a hard shell, and a sense of foreboding? Is this one of the seven plagues? Were the Mayans right and this is how we experience Armageddon?

Thursday: “…Cody?” my voice shook calling him –“Cody..!” — as I saw the damn thing in the bathtub. Again. Bless his heart, Cody ran in like I was dying. I mean, I was, but it’s nice he thought I really was helpless. Once he caught the thing, we thought about flushing Satan’s spawn down the toilet but then realized we were probably actually just going to be saving its life by letting it back into the Hell Hole from which it came (and giving it an amazing hero story to tell its friends), and neither of us is that compassionate, so into the trash it went. We decided on the way to work that the bug’s name was Helen (since she was from the Hell Hole) and we would pray for the repose of her soul (or for the creation of it, since it’s possibly she never had one to begin with).

Update Friday after school, when the Universe is supposed to give teachers a break:

Sent to Cody via Google hangouts, “I think just killed Helen’s grandfather, the leader of the mob.
He had antennae the length of California and could barely move. I think he had a broken hip. He scared the s*** out of me because he snuck up by my foot while I was on the toilet.
I am traumatized for life.”

Update, Saturday morning: Helen’s family likes honey and/or pomegranate pizazz tea. We left a mug on our living room floor that had dried tea leaves on the inside of the mug (don’t judge – what is a home for if you can’t leave things for yourself on the floor and trust it’ll still be there in morning?). This morning, Helen’s Godmother was found enjoying the rest of the tea I thought I finished. Now I can’t get the image out of my head of this bug having a freaking field day outside our bedroom while we were innocently sleeping. It’s important to note that this bug was harder to kill. It was faster than Helen’s godfather was and almost escaped. Note to self: If I want to win a 5k, drink more pomegranate pizzaz tea with honey.

But really, I can’t even open the bathroom door without having a semblance of a panic attack. I think it’s time to call the exterminator.

May 20, 9:35 AM
Update: Cody hugged me after calling the exterminator and told me he’s happy that we’re in this together. I don’t have the heart to tell him that when the Oriental roaches mobilize and demand a human sacrifice, it won’t be me going into the hell hole. Sorry, baby. Love you forever.

Laughter makes everything better.

P.S. I’m not attaching any pictures because I care for your psyche. You’re welcome.

Year 2, Week 46: Low Expectations and Lots of Grace

At the beginning of any potential relationship, I take my sweet time. I meticulously observe the person I’m getting to know and wonder how their character will manifest itself in the variety of environments we might be in together. I started this very deliberately in high school. The girl who became my maid of honor was a volleyball try-out friend first, then a classroom partner, then a lunchroom buddy, and then a best friend. Our relationship grew slowly, but intentionally. I talked, and Kristen listened. And then she talked, and I practiced listening better. Kristen was with me every step of the way during my long-distance relationship with Cody, and she always supported me, even if she thought I was being crazy. She let it all out during her speech at the wedding though, so I think we’re even now.

I always told myself my high expectations for people was a great thing. I told myself I was doing this meticulous character inspection because I was a smart girl and smart girls have high expectations. I enforced these high expectations and reaped some benefits: a few amazing friends and a stellar husband. And then I found the flaw in this approach when it didn’t work out in my favor.

According to the old adage, I am who my friends are. So, if I was a stubborn ninny who immediately gave up on someone once they showed a weakness and flaw in character, so would my friends. One of my dearest friends has become a stranger to me because we do not yet have the grace to forgive each other and move on. But this is a blog about wife reflections and not friend problems, so let’s get to the point.

This high expectations approach might work in attaining the type of person you want as a life partner, but it no longer works if you want to stay married.

I mess up on a daily basis. Despite my manicured, witty performances outside of the home, I say the wrong things and show my flaws recklessly. When it comes to Public Ania and Cody’s Ania, Cody’s Ania is a lot messier, way more insecure, selfish, and needy. By the end of the day, I really do wonder how such a good guy like Cody would want to stay with me, one who has so much to work on? But let’s be real – despite all these hiccups, I still expect him to breathe and understand. He vowed to stick around through thick and thin, right? I’m not as thin as I was in high school, and I’m layered in complexes and anxieties galore. But he still loves me, and that expectation is embossed on solid foundation.

BUT here’s the twisted part. When he has his own slip up, I get upset, wonder what I was thinking seven years ago, and find it difficult to award the same grace and forgiveness. It’s a terrible double-standard and I’ve been working on this since the beginning of our relationship.

When I maintain these almost too-difficult and too-high expectations for my husband, I am not allowing him to be his true, flawed, perfect self. It’s true when they say that there really is no perfect person – just the person you choose to love despite those quirks. Shoot, you even learn to find the quirks endearing (see Bridget Jones’ Diary for an example).

I’ve decided this week that, if I keep my expectations lower, I’m way less disappointed, much more delighted when things go well, and able to focus more on how I’m giving to the relationship and less on what I’m not getting. To be clear, this doesn’t mean I forsake my own wants and desires and needs. It just means I look at my husband’s calloused hands before I demand a massage of my own.

“O Master, Grant that I may never seek
so much to be consoled, as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
and to love, as to love with all my soul.”
– Prayer of St. Francis

This last Tuesday was a really long day. I came home briefly, saw Cody for a hot second, and told him I would be back in 25 minutes. Even though 8pm was approaching and I’d been working for a good 12 hours, I had one last errand to run. When I FINALLY came home for the evening, there was a hot, nutritious meal ready for me, tea waiting for me, and a big bear hug wrapping itself around me. If I had spent the whole day expecting that he’d do all the laundry, keep the house clean, and make dinner, I would have been setting him up for massive failure. He worked all day, too, after all. Instead, I focused on the immediates in front of me and I felt taken care of and forgiven for that day’s flaws. Wow. God’s love manifested indeed.

A quote from our perpetual couple calendar says, “Give 90% of yourself to your spouse and expect only 20% in return.” I scoffed at it the first time I read it because us independent women should have high expectations. But, after almost two years of marriage, I realize that it’s not fair to expect everything of him all the time. We’re not dating any more, where we would have some days apart and he’d have days to plan these extravagant adventures. Instead, we plan together as we weave through the day-to-day blessings of ordinary life, and although this sometimes feels less glamorous and romantic, it is definitely real.

By granting my husband the grace of low expectations, his choice to give of himself then becomes a true gift of sacrificial love.

Year 2, Week 40: Getting to Know Him Again

We’ve been married over a year and a half now. I still feel like a newlywed.

We’ve been dating exclusively for 8 years. I still feel I don’t know who I am well enough to tell him everything he wants to know about my likes, dislikes, and dreams.

For over a decade now, I’ve known he was a guy I’d always want to know.

But I also know how quickly people can change. So. Preventative maintenance time.

Directions: Write down the things about yourself that are true right now. Not what you’ve told people for most of your life, or even what you told your significant other when you first started dating. Who are you right now? For 10 minutes, write down your quirks, likes, dislikes, and anything in between. Then share.

Be open-minded. Be prepared to hear things you didn’t think your partner would say about themselves. Don’t be surprised to hear that your own thoughts and beliefs have changed.

You are ever-growing. To check in with the partner you swore to be with for the rest of your natural life is necessary, especially if you don’t want to wake up one day and wonder “Who -are- you?”

Start by asking yourself, “Who am I?”

Then it’s up to you to keep choosing the person your significant other has become. Chances are, the parts you don’t like about him/her reflect something about you: maybe you need to see things from their perspective a bit more, or tell some more stories about how certain experiences have shaped you. Either way, nobody just changes over night. It’s a long process that we tend to ignore, or take for granted. Maybe it’s time to start checking in more regularly.

Year 2, Week 38: He Had Every Reason to be Mad.

Cody could have complained – he had every right to.

I left my leftover lunch in the Tupperware.
In my lunch bag.
For three days.

Yuck.

Background: My mom would often clean up after me because she’s a saint and I’ve always been kind of lazy, and any time anything made me really super uncomfortable (like, gross, smelly food), someone else (Dad?) would take care of it. It’s an uncomfortable truth. I know where the problem comes from. I know where it leads. I do it any way. That, my friends, is what we call a character flaw.

But, when confronted with my mess, Cody didn’t say a thing. I mean, while I was taking a shower, I heard him gag, but that was it. When I was out of the shower, I saw a clean dish and we proceeded as normal. I felt the shame. I thanked him for cleaning it – again – and he just kind of shrugged. I hated myself and promised not to let it get to this point ever again. I’ll let you know if I follow through.

Last week, Cody and I decided we’d take a fairly spontaneous trip down to Arkansas to visit family during the upcoming weekend. On Thursday morning, Cody proclaimed, “I have a goal. I am going to make sure the house is clean before we leave tomorrow so that we can come back to a more appealing home.” I completely agreed – especially with the part where he said “I”.

But I found that, when I came home on Thursday afternoon, I started working on Cody’s goal. I dropped in a load of laundry right away (one of the only chores I prefer, probably because my dad made it a bonding activity for us, instead of something I should scorn). Then, I started washing a load of dishes. I performed these two chores on repeat until the clothes were folded and almost all the dishes were dried.

He didn’t come home right after work like I thought he would. He did send a text around 7:30pm to ask how things were going at home, which I thought was a little strange, since he should have been home around this time. Reminder, if you need one: he was the one who said he was going to clean the house. At 9pm, the house was almost clean, but not because he was home, and definitely not because he told me to.

I love the man so much that his desire for a clean house motivated me to do it as an act of service to show him my love. I knew that he’d really appreciate me packing our bags and cleaning up the house, especially because he knows I’d seriously rather be doing other things.

So he came home a little after midnight to a clean home, gave me a big hug in the morning, and asked if I was mad at him. I answered him honestly, and the answer honestly surprised me.

No, I’m not. I found I meant it, too.

No? Ania, this would have made you so mad before. True.

But this is before he cleaned up my messes and didn’t say a word about it.

It’s like we have our own language now. We don’t have to say anything, but I imagine the conversation runs in its silent current as follows:

Cody: My wife is a slob. But I love her. I know she really hates doing this stuff, and I value a less-smelly house (apparently more than she does) so I’ll clean it up.

This is so gross. But I love her…

Ania (hiding, as Cody is cleaning): Ugh. Why do I do this. Why don’t I just take care of it right away? I feel shame. …Why isn’t he yelling at me? Or at least making me feel bad?

I guess he doesn’t make me feel bad for the same reason I’m not mad at him for not showing up to his own idea of a clean house (haha). I didn’t want to ruin the trip – he’s usually the main cleaner of the house, so it wouldn’t be fair to get mad at him during a rare time he’s out enjoying himself with his colleagues.

Just like I know I have my character flaws, I also know that my husband loves me with extraordinary grace – he gives me love (forgiveness, mercy, goodness..) when I least think I deserve it. I guess you can say I have decided it’s time for me to grow up and start doing the same.

Year 2, Week 31: Uncomfortable Conversations

There are so many quotes online about love and relationships, and they usually sound nice and uplifting, but I keep scrolling and move on with my day. I finally stumbled upon one, though, that I thought was right-on and thought it was important to share:

I am willing to claim that uncomfortable conversations are at the heart of every growing relationship. When each person is in the same place in life, conversations are easy; in truth, they’re probably so easy because they’re not quite deeper than discussing one’s likes, dislikes, and past formative events. It gets more challenging when factors beyond one’s control begin entering the equation – a new job, or an opportunity that is located in another city, or a new personality that’s entered the mix that threatens to destroy the dynamic you had grown accustomed to. Regardless of the circumstance, a relationship will always feel like there’s resistance – like there is something “in the way” of it becoming just perfect, or whole, or magical.

It is never whole, perfect, or magical.

It is only your perspective that can make it appear so. Therein lies the magic.

The secret? Remain committed to your person despite the hardest conversation. And, if you don’t have a “your person” yet, stay on the look-out for the type of person you wouldn’t mind having difficult conversations with. The only way to know if that person will be “yours” is if you can have a disagreement, talk it out, and feel like you love him/her more than before.

If it seems simple, that’s because it is. It’s really only the commitment that needs to be tried. Like a wise student told me the other day: “The quality of a relationship depends only on the effort put in.”

Potential difficult conversation topics no one told you to expect during marriage (these could be from experience, or not):
– Who actually pays for the wedding
– What if your vision of your wedding day looks totally different from your future husband’s?
– So we have a joint budget now? No? Yes? Does that mean I can still spend my money how I want? No?
– Wait, so we’re not having a dinner date night every weekend? But I heard it’s important!
– Do we celebrate Valentine’s Day?
– How would you like your birthday celebrated? No, really.
– Why are you actually a slob?
– Family. All the topics and sub-topics and even more you never saw coming.
– When do you want a baby?**
– Do you believe in God?
– Do you believe in unconditional love?
– How much time do we actually want to spend together after work? Do you need more wind-down alone time than I do?
– Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
– What’s your dream? Do our dreams match? Again, the scary part here is that dreams, just like non-negotiables, can change.
– How many times a week do we want home-cooked meals? Who’s going to cook them?
– Wait, what kind of school do you want our kids to go to?
– I’ll add more over time, I’m sure.

**It’s important to note here that before you accept (or propose) a marriage commitment, there are some fundamentals that definitely need to be discussed (not agreed upon, necessarily, but definitely come to a mutual understanding and respect for one another’s views), like whether or not you want kids, how important family really is to you, religious values, etc.

My point is – every couple will have different unforeseen challenges ahead. The goal is to find the person who will want to hear your ideas, feel safe enough to contribute his own, and ultimately see you at the end of the equation, regardless of the method you take to get there.

Year 2, Week 28: “Is ‘I want to get married’ good enough?”

As an English teacher, I feel like I get a bad rap for only being an expert on grammar. “Oh man,” people say. “Now I have to watch my words.” But I see my role as more than a grammar junkie or poetry buff (does such a person exist?). I try to be the English teacher that not only corrects misuse of “further and farther” or “well and good” but also one who inspires the love of language – words, rhetoric, literature, and everything in between. I love sharing both characters who have a backbone and those who learn how to stand up for themselves. Mostly, though, I love that literature allows me to discuss life and human nature within my classroom.

This week, I thought the New Year would be a good time to discuss humans’ search of progress and achievement, especially in context of new year’s resolutions. I decided to go bigger, however, and have my 9th graders imagine the rest of their lives. I assigned my students to create a Bucket List that would include all their dreams – anything they’d like to experience before they “kick the bucket.” I remember being full of dreams when I was a teenager, but I was also fortunate enough to have people in my village who encouraged me to dream big – or at least didn’t squash my ideas when I would bashfully bring them up at the dinner table. What if my students don’t have anyone in their corner telling them it’s okay to look beyond their neighborhood? I should be that person, I tell myself. And so I do not qualify the items on their list – I just listen and learn more about what my students want for themselves. It’s one of my favorite assignments of the year.

One day this week, a student perked her head up in attention and, without waiting for me to call on her, raised her hand, blurting out, “Is ‘getting married’ good enough?” I didn’t even have to ask her what she meant.

It was in her tone, and the way she furrowed her brow yearning for validation. She needed to know that her romantic wish was not less than her peers’ desires to travel the world and go to Coachella. My immediate reaction was to run over to her, hug her and tell her that the squeeze in her heart when she sees enamored couples kissing isn’t stupid.

I wanted to promise her in a rush that, if she just tries to love herself first, that the love she hopes to experience will eventually find her and wrap her up. I didn’t do that, though.

Instead, I grinned and said, “Well, I can’t exactly knock it. I’m married and have been having a good time.” The girls laughed in response, but I pressed, “But in all seriousness, with the right person, I think marriage is one of the most beautiful parts of life.”

If I had the time and space to continue, I would have continued. So here’s my delayed response to that student who wondered if her desire to marry someone was “good enough” to be one of her greatest goals.

Yes, my girl, the desire to be loved is a worthy desire. It is one that many don’t speak of, for fear of being called “weak” or “needy.” I, too, fought this desire – why should I be “bogged down” in a relationship when everyone else around me is going from guy to guy to guy? Shouldn’t I want that? Why don’t I want that?

It took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t broken for wanting the consistency and security of one, steady, loving partner.

The real question is, I think, do you think you are “good enough” to be part of a partnership so beautiful that you can be both completely lost in it, and still more sure of yourself than almost anywhere else in life?

Are you ready to be surprised on a daily basis of both how much you know about this one human being – and also how much you have left to learn?

Are you willing to wrestle with ideas of independence and co-dependence and how you’re going to communicate your ‘non-negotiable’s and which issues you’ll be willing to compromise on? When you figure it out, congratulate yourself, but don’t go complacent! Just as you are ever-growing, so too will your standards.

Do you want to spend time on preventative maintenance? It’s much easier to discuss what could potentially go wrong and communicate expectations than it is to apologize profusely for hurting the person you promised you’d always care for. Sound like a big job? It is.

Do you understand the difference between a spat, a bicker, and a fight? In my experience, spats are funny; bickers usually reveal something very important and demand an apology; and fights are flames that could have been calmed in the bicker stage. You have to be attentive to your partner’s life – one antennae always pointed towards someone else – not always expecting him (or her) to revolve around you. True love is sacrificial, but it shouldn’t make you miserable. Your partner should fill up your cup just as you fill his (or hers).

Can you handle the overwhelming grace of your partner’s presence in your life after the Worst Day(s) ever? You know, the fact that you were a real pain in the you-know-what and don’t “deserve” love, but this person is hugging you and loving on you anyway? It’s such a beautiful gift. If our Creator loves us as much as people says He (or She) does, then get ready for pure heaven on earth.

So yes. Wanting to be married is “good enough” – as long as you and your partner to continue pouring ‘enough good’ into each other’s cups.

P.S. Just so you know, sometimes you totally miss the cup. But we can talk about that later.

Year 2, Week 18: Why “Wife Reflections”?

It is so easy to become disillusioned with society’s ideas of a fulfilling single life, especially when you’re married. It’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking the grass is greener on the other side.

My antidote? Constant vigilance, prayer, and preventative maintenance.

But that’s not really what I want to discuss in this week’s reflection.

I was able to go to a Pentatonix concert this last week and it was amazing!! I hadn’t expected an opening performance by Us the Duo, but I was really glad they did. Two young 20-somethings took the stage and introduced themselves as a married couple, about to sing their favorite song in the whole world. They proudly shared that the lyrics of the song are their wedding vows. They painted a beautiful picture to the audience of them singing to each other in a wedding gown and black tux. The song itself, “No Matter Where You Are,” is a beautiful reminder for couples what kind of commitment and sacrifice marriage requires in order to survive. What really got to me, though, was the fact that an arena full of people were witness to a strong married couple essentially renewing their vows in front of them. And applauding. I swear I had to squint my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. In a culture that makes light of “starter marriages” and echoes “(s)he wasn’t perfect but I’m worth it and deserve the best, so it’s his(her) loss,” it was so so so refreshing to witness this celebration of marriage.

Basically, it made me want to hug my husband instead of looking over at the single guy in the next row over. And we need more of that culture.

To be honest, I think that’s why I keep writing my Wife Reflections. I want to be a voice in the culture that raises marriage up instead of bashing it as the lesser life choice. I can be independent and strong and a feminist but still allow myself to melt into cuddles that make me feel safe. I can make my own decisions and pay my own bills but still contribute to a joint account that pays for the roof above our heads. I can wear high heels that make me just a little bit taller than my husband when we go out and still enjoy him taking the lead on a conversation about life insurance. It doesn’t make me any less of a woman for choosing to sacrificially share my life.

So I guess I keep writing these Wife Reflections so I can show that divorce doesn’t have to linger over a couple’s heads like a storm that’s about to let loose. It doesn’t even have to scare a couple from considering marriage in the first place. It’s hard work, but it is so worth it. I hope I show the real side, but I also hope the magic shines through, too.

Singleness announces to the world, “I’m not perfect, but I’m worth it.”
Marriage adds, “I’m not perfect, and neither is he. But he’s worth it.”