Freshman year of high school: “I dream of writing a best-selling novel.” Senior year of high school: “Before I’m thirty, I hope I’ll have published a book.” Sophomore year of college: “I’ll start writing when I have more time.” Senior year of college: “…What is time, really? Is it real? I’ll write when I’m older.” First year out of college: “I have to focus on being a good teacher, first.” A week ago: “What if I become pregnant and I only have nine months to write a book before I really don’t have time to write? I am so sick of saying ‘Someday.’ Might as well just do this thing.”
So I started writing a novel, using NaNoWriMo as a guide, mentor, and structured stress motivator. I was tired of Cody always asking every New Years Eve, “So.. New Year’s resolution.. writing a book this time?” Supportive husbands, amiright? I kept telling him that, someday, when I put my mind to it, I’ll do it. I’m happy to report that I am writing an average of 1,679 words a day, for a grand total so far of 11,756 words. I’m thinking of updating my progress here. Don’t ask what’s driving me to write because I think it’s really just my past self’s prayers for future and present me. I’m genuinely enjoying the writing process and have WifeReflections to thank for that.
Very seriously, the messages of encouragement and validation that I have received from so many different people from totally different walks of life have kept me updating this blog week by week. Who knew people would be interested in the realities of my relationship? It is so humbling and magnificent to experience. Thank you.
I don’t mean to make this post seem so short and flippant, but I really need to sleep and prove that I met my word count so Cody will give me my phone back. It’s so past my bed time. Maybe I’ll be so busy working on this “book” that Cody will have to update his very own husband reflection next week. Stay tuned!
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.”
Last Thursday we received text messages from some of the kiddos in our lives. One was from a sixth grader who’s just started playing basketball and was excited to invite us to a 7:45pm game the following Friday night, and the other text was sent by our sophomore Poms girl who wanted to know if I could come see her perform at the football half-time show a few hours earlier on the same day.
Of course I said yes. It didn’t matter that my free Friday night just turned into a definitely-not-free Friday night, or that I had told them I’d be there without consulting Cody (FYI the result would have been the same, it’s just respectful to ask whether he had any expectations for the weekend and compromise from there). When I told Cody that I’d be going to our sweet sophomore’s game and then we’d go to our niece’s game later, Cody just smiled and asked, “How many kids do we have again?”
“How many kids do we have again?”
It was a perfect response to something he could have rolled his eyes at, or begun complaining about (“But it’s a Friday night…”). Instead, he so perfectly summed up why it was important for us to go -of course we’d go show our support on a Friday night because we love the young people in our lives as closely as if they could be our own. It’s what we do.
The half-time show was awesome. The girls’ kick line was really impressive and our sweet sophomore’s smile was enough to warm my heart, even if my fingers were frosting over. When I met Cody at home a little while later, we were able to chit-chat about our work-day and then we left for our niece’s game.
A moment I especially love happened during the basketball game. There was a girl who didn’t look like your “typical” athlete on the opposing team (whatever the hell that even means) – and it was clear to us that she was new to the sport, but it was even clearer that she was super self-conscious. In the defense of her authenticity, you could also tell she tried not to let that tween awkwardness stop her, either. With the game tied at 11, we watched that same young girl score the penultimate point and witnessed the glow-up of the century: the big smile, the high-fives from her teammates, and the fact that, with only 2 minutes remaining in the game, she was leading her team to victory. It was quite a magical moment to see. Cody and I both grinned. With all the goodness behind his voice, he quietly said, “Good for her.” I affirmed, “That girl’s weekend is made.” It was a small moment in our witness, but it was a big one in this human being’s experience. The fact that Cody and I both reacted the same way to this girl’s success tells me all I didn’t realize I needed to feel – that, as future parents, we may not always say the same things, but we’re usually on the same wavelength.
Ultimately, however, in hindsight, what wasn’t said is more important than what was.
Here’s what he never said:
“Why did you bring me here?”
“How long is this going to be?”
“This is painful to watch.”
“She is painful to watch.”
“Poor girl.”
Instead, we focused on the positive. So they’re not that great yet? That’s okay. At least they have a reason to run back and forth. And, sometimes -stupendously- experience such empowering moments that even the sleepy adults in the stands notice. I’m just glad it was my husband who noticed right alongside with me. Pretty cool stuff.
This last New Year’s Eve, Cody and I decided that, in addition to our own individual New Year’s resolutions, we’d also create “Couple Goals.” In that Goals list were things like cooking healthier meals with fresher ingredients, creating and maintaining budgets, and even setting a regular bed time that we’d follow.
It’s this regular bed time that I want to reflect on this week.
I would not be the relatively high-functioning, usually kind and happy-go-lucky person if I did not receive at least 7 hours and 15 minutes of sleep every night (yes, I’ve noticed the pattern and no, it does not make me lame). Waking up with enough dream-juice in the tank helps me do everything I need to do with hundreds of different personalities every day (yay, teaching!). Without it, I am simply a lesser version of myself, and that’s not cool for anybody. I become shorter-tempered and eat way more than I need to. And I am way too much of a control-freak to be ruled by the monster that is Lack of Sleep.
So at 8:30pm, an alarm goes off on Cody’s phone reminding us to clean-up around the house (any clothes on the floor or dishes that need to be washed are ideally tended to at this time). This alarm is boring.
At 9:05, however, another alarm sings, heralding my absolute favorite time of the day. Bed Time.*
*Hilarious, because I remember never falling asleep at my parents-requested 9pm bedtime. I realize now this was their bed-time, not mine. Sorry, Dad.
Sometime around 9:30, I make a big show of diving into all the covers and smile up at Cod as he closes the door for the night. “Bed time is the best time!” I always sing. And he laughs every time and joins me in the sea of blankets.
“Bed time is the best time!”
It’s either the over-tiredness or complete comfort we feel in each other’s presence, but I swear we’re at our funniest right before bed. We crank out the punniest jokes and find ways to make lighter those rougher days. We literally find a way to laugh out the bad stuff.
It’s crazy to point out, though, that I never would have realized how important our bed-time ritual is to our marriage if we had not spent this weekend away from home. I would have continued to take it completely for granted. Instead, my in-laws (parents and grands) commented the next morning on what they heard before we fell asleep after our 2:30am arrival:
We couldn’t stop giggling.
And this is a regular thing – but because I hadn’t had a chance to stop to appreciate it, I kept taking it for granted.
Bed time is the best time because my bed-time is full of security and snuggles and so so so so so much laughter. I believe it’s a testament to how vulnerable and open we have become with each other, and I couldn’t feel more blessed to have it this way.
So if you ever invite us over to your home to spend the night, apparently you will have noises keeping you up for a little while. But don’t worry – I hear laughter is contagious.
Teaching 9th grade girls is such a blessing. Almost every day I see the strength of sisterhood when one student is having a rough day and the others gather around her. Also almost every day I am reminded of how exceptionally difficult it is to maintain a real, supportive relationship when there are so many changes happening at the same time (like, you know, figuring out who you are while also studying for three exams).
In both scenarios, I silently give thanks that I’m in a time in my life where I can enjoy the fruits of my laborious making-friends journey. After a lackluster social life (read: perceived deflation of my worth to about zero) in middle school, I remember deliberately taking my time choosing friends in high school. I would observe everybody, almost to a fault.
She just made a snarky comment to her “best friend” (Did she really just frame it as a “joke” with a quick comment of “Oh, get over it!” when her friend looked offended??). I don’t think I want to be friends with someone like that.
She just rolled her eyes when her friend sheepishly told her she doesn’t want to go out tonight because she wants to make sure she studies really well for the test tomorrow. I don’t want my friend to roll her eyes at my success.
Is she really trying to guilt her friend into hanging out with her instead of family? She seems to really want family time! Any friend who shames another for wanting to spend time with her family is not going to make it as a friend of mine.
And so on it went. I realize now that it seems I have impossibly high standards. Good. It worked for finding my husband, too.
So what does this have to do with my marriage?
Simple. If I hadn’t spent so much time deliberately choosing my friends, I wouldn’t have my greatest supports and protectors of my marriage.
Sometimes it’s not enough to just “work it out” between us when I’m in a rough patch with my husband. Sometimes we have to go to our separate corners in the boxing ring and talk it out with the coaches who were there first. My coaches are the sisters I’ve chosen.They help me talk through any doubts, questions, and concerns that inevitably arise in my marriage.
I think what I love the most is that the end game is always a realistic true-to-Ania approach leading to a potential solution. Never once do my coaches panic and say, “This is it. This is the problem that leads to divorce. Get ready for the K.O.” They may roll their eyes and wonder aloud, “What is this guy doin’!?” But they’ll just as quickly ask, “Shoot, girl, what’s going on with you? You’re not being yourself.”
It’s that question that I love most about my friends. How can we help you be yourself again? Because we love that Ania. If we find her again, we’ll be able to fix everything else.
Wow. Gold standard friends.
So when I tell my freshmen students about my own female relationships, I hope they hear that those same sisters will help protect their marriages, too. (You know, if that’s something they’re even in to).
Here’s to…
…my sister losing weeks of sleep pursuing her Ph.D. in Clinical Psych,
…my M.o.H. following her dream in a New York City grad program,
…my soul friend finishing her Masters of Theology program at Duke,
…my tall twin in a beautiful relationship with her fiance and the Yale School of Nursing,
…a trailblazing lover of the world passionately writing stories,
…the women in my life who have become truly amazing mothers,
…those who are fearlessly embracing the unknown and loving the heck out of life,
…and all those who I don’t get to talk to as often but admire just the same.
The women in my life protect my marriage. To have ignored them in pursuit of a man would have been one of my life’s biggest mistakes. Now, they save my best life – my most “Ania” life – more than they realize. Thank God for that.
It’s official: The second year of a relationship is always the hardest.
I remember watching my friends fall hard and fast for a guy, be on cloud nine for a year, and then call asking for advice when things all-of-a-sudden started getting rocky.
I told them that this is normal (they breathed a sigh of relief), but then share my theory that whether they can make it through the second year will determine whether they make it in the long run (even if it was only 3-5 years, that’s successful according to today’s standards).
The second year is when things start to get serious and questions are asked – the honeymoon period is ending and reality becomes a – well – reality.
You start wondering if this is the One. And when things start to become difficult (as they do, in “reality”), we automatically jump to our conclusion: “Well, if he/she was really meant for me, then I wouldn’t feel like this, would I?”
This is toxic thinking and it ends relationships, over and over again.Love is not a feeling; it is a choice. And sometimes the choice is sacrifice, and that’s why love hurts. But I’m getting off topic and that’s just my opinion.
So I guess it shouldn’t have come as that big of a surprise that, when I had the theme of this week’s reflection come to mind, it threw me for a loop.
Who knew we’d have to go through another “second year” in marriage?
The excitement of the engagement, the emotional and logistical preparations for our marriage, the gorgeous memories from our wedding day, the honeymoon, and the exciting transition into building a home and routine together have become cursive words in a diary and photos hanging in our home.
The second year has brought up all the stuff we thought we knew, but have kind of let sit beneath the surface all this time, which is a surprise because I thought we had gone through all that “stuff” before we got married. That was always the goal anyway. The second year has brought up all the little things that we have forgotten could be endearing (like Cody’s incessant snapping and clapping, which he swears is not an expression of anxiety and impatience) and difficult truths that run deeper than dust (like my tendency to, for whatever reason, assume the worst of intentions from the man I should trust the most).
The second year has brought up ideas of beginning a family, but not knowing “when” we’ll be ready (Ha! Is anyone ever really ready and prepared for parenthood?). It’s brought up core differences in our philosophies: he’s a planner and has no problem playing chess with circumstances and the wheel of fortune. I, on the other hand, have no problem giving Jesus the wheel and whispering in submission, “Thy Will Be Done”. You’d think these two seemingly opposing world views would doom the relationship – and maybe this really would be enough cause for a couple to sign divorce papers –
but we’re not those people.
Our long distance journey was the climbing of a mountain. It was long, arduous, seemingly never-ending, but there were those trips where we finally got to see each other that allowed us to breathe and admire the view of our efforts. When the road got hard again, we at least had the memories of the last rest-stop that kept one foot climbing in front of the other for the continuing journey, as painful as it would become.
I’d like to say that our long-distance love has prepared us for this very moment in our marriage (and yes, it really is only a moment in the scheme of time). I believe long distance living helped us develop a kind of grit that keeps us going.
Grit. According to Wikipedia, it is a positive, non-cognitive trait based on an individual’s passion for a particular long-term goal or end state, coupled with a powerful motivation to achieve their respective objective.
So here’s a status report: We’re still on this beautiful mountain of ours, and the last couple years were admittedly gorgeous sights admired from a plateau. We had found really huge boulders to climb onto and just watch, hold hands, and “oo” and “ahh” at all the sights we got to see just because we made it so far.
But then it started to rain a little, as it does. We didn’t do anything wrong; in fact, if we want green pastures, we have to embrace the drizzle. The precipitation, however, has caused for some muddier trails and less clear paths. We’re still holding hands, but sometimes it feels like he has to go ahead of me and all that’s left to hold on to is his pinky finger. Other times, I want to take a different road than what he’s had planned in mind, and this causes a stand-in with frowns on our faces.
Until we can discuss a more strategic plan that compromises both our philosophies, we’ll just take baby steps. There may be shoes lost in the process, but his hand is more important to hold on to.
Gotta learn to dance in the rain, baby.
The rain didn’t stop us from picture-posing in Colorado, so I don’t see why it would stop us now.
This found poem, created by Austin Kleon, was my gift to Cody in honor of our first wedding anniversary. It’s nothing too fancy: a piece of paper housed in a simple black frame. This poem best describes my perception of marriage as a safety from never having to do long distance ever again (if you’re in the same bathroom, you’re not exactly counting down the days until the next time you get see each other!). In fact, one of my favorite things ever about marriage is the sense of security I feel when I realize my best friend won’t leave my side – he promised that much. And the man keeps his promises.
So what is this feeling I get when Cody walks in the house after a long day at work and, with a grin, tells me about his plan to apply for an opportunity that gets his blood flowing in all the right places? He can work for his current company and learn something new somewhere else.
Yes! Go for it, baby! I have no doubt they’ll see your value and accept you right on the spot. You’ve been waiting a while to have this feeling pulling you towards something so strongly. Embrace it.
Where are they located again? I asked. Sorry, I may have missed it when you said it earlier.
…Mexico?
Hm. Well.
I support you, no matter what. You know that.
But isn’t marriage not leaving?
I guess 2 months isn’t that long; military couples are apart for way longer. This could be so good for him!
I’ll be fine; I’ve been finding ways to entertain myself since 1992.
But I thought this long distance thing was done.
But I did get to travel in Spain for a month and then go to Montana on my own, too… He should have the same freedom!
Will we be apart for Thanksgiving? Or his birthday? Or my birthday?
Grr.
Obviously I need to let him go and be 150% supportive,
but it’s hard being supportive.
I thought marriage meant not leaving.
But two individuals following their passions is more important than two individuals squandering their desires simply to be standing in the same bathroom at the same time, flossing miserably.
I suppose he can watch me brush my teeth via Skype. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.
My marriage would simply not be how it is if I hadn’t experienced and observed the fruits of loving marriages around me. I feel as if I could go on and on about which couples have affected me the most but, instead, I’ll choose one that has deeply affected my own psyche and approach to marriage.
Ms. Sherry works at my alma mater, an all-girls high school that guides teenage girls towards the empowerment of themselves through education while becoming compassionate leaders who speak the truth and build diverse community. A natural bi-product of this “become independent” “you don’t need no man” mentality unfortunately collided with my own desires to be in a co-dependent relationship one day. In fact, I seemed to take the warnings of “you’d be just fine if you were alone” to the opposite side of the spectrum that led me to believe that, besides the fear of failure, I was terribly afraid of losing my significant other one day.
I didn’t realize that it was this fear that kept a wall around my heart (ugh, cliches) for most of my relationship with Cody. You may wonder what exactly this means. Here’s an easy example that’s found its way into our marriage despite my “opening up”:
If Cody said ANYTHING that seemed to, in any way, threaten my independence, a fight would ensue (C: “Hey, let’s talk about a budget.” A: “NO. IT’S MY MONEY! My sophomore biology teacher warned us never to rely financially on a man!” C: “But it’s our budget with our money.” A: “No! IT’S MY hard-earned MONEY.” And so it would continue until I realized my ideals do not have to fight with his/our ideas of teamwork.) P.S. Now I know that as long as my own spending is in the budget we created together, he’s actually not preventing me from doing anything. Turns out fear makes us act weird. Go figure.
So I reasoned that, if I didn’t allow him to totally infiltrate my life, then if he were to someday “leave” (that’s what we call dying, because I trust that he wouldn’t just “leave” the relationship), I would still be able to function. I would be fine. My counselor told me so!
I wasn’t sure just how to reconcile the constant fear of dooming thoughts: “What if things are going so well now because he won’t be here tomorrow? Or after the birth of our first child, what if something horrible happens?” The thoughts wouldn’t go away – and it kept Cody a little farther away than I think I realized at the time.
And then, one day, I received the sad news that Ms. Sherry’s husband had “left.” She and her family (who are very close) were understandably devastated and they honored me with the request to play the piano and sing at his funeral. I saw past teachers, friends, and a familiar piano. I played my heart out and fought back the tears. This is my worst fear happening right in front of me, I thought. How in the world is a wife whose best friend just died, able to move on?
I was surprised by the immediate reaction to my own thoughts: “Of course she will move on just fine. She’s Ms. Sherry. She is kind, loving, and warm to everyone she meets. She will miss him – A LOT – but he did not make her her. She was already wonderful. He just helped bring that wonder out in her. She’ll just keep loving. It will hurt, but she will be okay.”
My confidence in Ms. Sherry’s character was enough to help convince me that allowing my future husband completely into my life is not just a choice – it is a necessity. How else can we be a complete team if I keep preparing for the day when he can’t show up to a game? To be a real team, we have to truly be together,from day one.
A few months later, as our wedding date was quickly approaching I made the necessary choice to try and knock down all the “I need to be as independent as possible just in case he leaves” walls that had been built. It was incredible how many there were (and how many we’re still trying to break down). Years and years of “Don’t let them get too close. You’re a strong woman, you don’t need anybody!” were piled up on each other.
It was scary, it left me vulnerable,but it opened me up to pure magic that I simply would not have had access to if I hadn’t scooped Cody up, dropped him where even I don’t want to go, and said, “HERE. All of it. Take it. I trust you. You’ll only make me better.” Then I paused and said, “And when you do ‘leave’ one day…”
“…You’ll be okay,” Cody responded with a smile.
Because she has deeply affected my own life, I asked Ms. Sherry to find a picture from her second year of marriage and write her own reflection. I’m so honored to share it here:
“Our 2nd year continued our love affair that lasted our entire marriage. Best friends, sweethearts, soul mates until the very end. The arrival of our first son 20 months after being married brought us closer than I thought possible. When/if you have been blessed to find the person of your dreams, hold on to them with every ounce of your heart and soul, even through the trying times. Marriage is not 50/50. It’s 80/80. You both have to give a little more.”
We were about a year into our relationship, and I knew Cody would be flying in for our once-every-three-months visit while I was still at work (playing the piano at church). I asked him if he wouldn’t mind taking the bus from the airport to the church so that I could give him a big hug the moment Mass was over instead of him waiting at the airport and waiting for me to come get him. I also secretly wanted him to be part of something that made me happy; he had never heard me perform in “that” capacity before (leading ~100 people in song) so I was really excited and nervous to have him kind of just walk inwhile I was doing something I loved.
I wanted two things from his presence: to get a glimpse at why this was an important part of my life and to share the experience with him.
In equation form, this looked like:
Doing something that made me happy
+
sharing what made me happy with someone who made me happy
=
happy happy joy joy
Let’s fast-forward about six years from that day to February 2016.
If you want the long version, keep reading! (if you want the short version, just find the bolded phrase below): My colleague encouraged me to think about participating in an improv class during the summer. He outlined the differences between short-form improv, long-form improv, stand-up comedy, and the price tag differences on the various theaters around the city (ComedySportz, Second City, Improv Olympics, etc.) In the end, I chose ComedySportz, since they pride themselves on performing shows that are for the whole family – and they specialize in short-form improv (short, spit-fire games run competition-style between two three-person teams that keep the show moving along really nicely). Unfortunately, however, even the least expensive camp was pretty expensive.
Cody and I (try to) run on a tight budget so that we experience more cool things instead of buying more things.I wasn’t sure if my financial partner would be cool with me spending the equivalent of one month’s food budget for an improv comedy class that lasted only one week.
So here’s the SHORT form of the story (Haha, get it? No? You shouldn’t have been lazy then.)
I was encouraged to take an improv class this summer. It sounded like fun.
I told Cody I’d like to take an improv class. I don’t think he took me seriously.
I looked up the ComedySportz summer class information. I told Cody about it. I think he started to take me seriously now.
“Hey Cody, you know how you took an online course that cost a few hundred dollars? Well, this improv class is something like it.” I think I saw his hand reach in protective instinct for his wallet.
I went on a school-sponsored trip to Browning, Montana the same day early-bird registration ended. I didn’t have a chance before we left to discuss how my choice to attend this class would affect our financial goals and I couldn’t reach Cody while in Montana, so I neglected to register for the class. I was going to miss the deadline and I slowly allowed myself to realize that this class might not work out after all. All these realizations made me sad.
A couple days later, a text message from Cody appeared (Whoa! Service in Browning, MT? Yay!): “Alright! You’re all signed up for the improv class!”
Ridiculous smiling and slight shock ensued. This wasn’t part of the plan, but he did it anyway. He’s a good husband.
Class was attended! I became a little funnier. I believe I’ll be an even better English teacher now that I know games that disguise learning.
Teacher of class tells me there’s a show I get to be in?! Amazing! Show time is set for 5pm on Saturday.
How are all the people I know allbusy on the day I most want them there? Whattabummer.
Cody’s capture of the show’s beginning. Here’s me pointing at all the people who weren’t able to make it but were cheering me on from a distance <3.
Hey! My brother and sister-in-law came! My old roommate and his brother came! And, duh, Cody is here.
Cody always shows up. He has shown his support for things that make me happy for as long as I can remember. How is this just hitting me now?
So – for a final review:
If it’s important to you and hemakes you happy.. then the one who shows up should be the one you marry.
