Marriage
Everything I am about to say and how I feel does not apply in cases of verbal, physical, emotional, or sexual abuse, I want to begin by saying that.
Tomorrow is my anniversary. We have been married for11 years. My marriage has been hard. I mean brutally hard and there are times when I don’t know why we haven’t given up. Even our marriage counselor has said the one thing that has held us together is our love for each other. We have a love that transcends all but our marriage has had more than its fair share of challenges and it appears that we haven’t finished yet.
But isn’t that what you sign up for? When you marry someone you may go in thinking that the years ahead will be full of blissful evenings around a fire, holding hands, and reciting poetry. You may dream of conquering mountains, traveling the world, having a family, and starting a blog to record all the precious moments. I don’t know what other people think... I got married because I loved him. He had already put me through hell before I said "I do" and I had already forgiven more than most people would have. I never got the down on one knee proposal, I got a letter from jail...when I was pregnant with our daughter. We already had one each of our own that we had brought into the mess we called our lives before we decided to combine our messes and really fuck things up. Back in the beginning when we didn’t trust anyone, especially each other.
The one thing Josh and I have always had is a desire for more. To us more never meant more money or more stuff, it just meant giving our kids a life where they didn’t have parents who shot dope or hit them and call them horrendous names and they weren’t afraid of us hurting them. It meant a life surrounded by people who would do anything for our kids. It meant a house, a yard, and our kids going to the same school for long enough to establish real friendships. It meant our kids trusting us and who we were. The first time we talked about what we wanted from life was after our first drunken romp in the sheets and we talked about watching our grandkids play in the yard, while we sipped tea on our front porch.
We both came from crap. Neither of us had any idea what it took to be married or to be good parents, the sacrifices you have to make, we just assumed it was this hard for everyone, and sometimes I think that was a blessing. People divorce constantly over the stupidest shit and it boggles my mind. Our whole life has been shit, so at least together we have a partner in rising out of it all. We used to be alone but now we have each other and we call each other out and say “our kids deserve better, fix this.” Marriage isn’t about date nights, and flowers, and Christmas cards. I mean if you have your shit together enough to do that than awesome, go for it. But marriage is about something so unconditional and huge that Hallmark can’t capture it in a greeting card. Somedays I sacrifice who I am completely in order to keep this marriage together and so does Josh. Marriage means cleaning up each other’s vomit and mess when the other is sick with the flu. Marriage is loving him when he wakes up in the morning, farts, and scratches his ass before he even takes two steps. Marriage is enduring snoring and fighting and crying. Marriage is seeing each other at our worst and managing to hold on to the picture of them at their best.
So here we are at 11 years and I’m not pretending that makes us champions or anything but this shit we have endured makes us exceptional. I love my husband. Even though there are days when I think that I will throat punch him if he doesn’t pull up his damn pants and learn to wear a damn belt. My hope that one day he will stop listening to music with base so loud it rattles the windows will never die but maybe Ill just eventually get hearing aids and get to turn them off so I dont have to hear that shit. Maybe one day I will lose my sense of smell too so I don’t have to wake up to my room engulfed in enough cologne to fuel a 6th grade dance full of pre-pubescent boys. Its like God remembers all the times I thought Cool Water was sexy and decided he would give me a husband who swims in Polo Sport.
There are days I think about when I was little and I thought I would marry some hippy who ate granola and wore birkenstalks and then I realize how much that guy would annoy me. I love Josh. I love that he looks like a Mexican gang member but he cries when he watches Disney movies and even though we are once again facing another difficult season in our marriage and I have friends who marvel at my commitment to him they don’t see all he does. He doesn’t vocalize the days he has talked me down from nervous breakdowns where I cried and cried. Or the 2 months he drove me to and from school after I started having flashbacks about abuse I suffered as a child and I was scared to be alone. They dont know about how he hid my dad’s pictures for me because he knew one day I would regret ripping them to pieces no matter how angry I was. They don’t know about the times I convinced myself he was cheating because of my PTSD and convinced myself he had given me an imaginary STD and how he drove me to the doctor because he wanted me to know he wasn’t worried about anything and that he never once got angry at me. He just made really bad jokes and bantered with the nurses. When we were done he asked “feel better now?” They don’t know all the things he supported me through.
Every person is different and every marriage is different but when you get married you marry their flaws, the current ones and those they haven’t developed yet. You listen to the same stories over and over again and still manage to pretend you are interested. You sense when they are struggling and you try to help. You build them up and you forgive them because they are human. You don’t endure beatings and abuse but when he has a bad day and tell you you are being a fucking bitch you remember that time a month ago you told him he was being a fucking prick. You allow each other to be human. You don’t compare them to other husbands or wives because trust me, everyone is fucked up. You chose this person to have kids with and spend your life with and that isn’t just for the days where everything is magical it is for the days when it is so hard your insides feel like Paula Dean stuck a blender into your stomach and hit high. Sometimes hard times last for months but the good times are worth it. The other day we were cuddling in bed. I don’t remember what we were watching but I remember thinking to myself that there was no other place I would rather be…not even swimming in the ocean or laying beneath the redwoods. He is my happy place. He is the one who finally convinced me I am worthy of being loved.
