I've been debating this question with friends as of recently. Since 2010 -- I've been with the same beautiful person. I've grown to love him more than I ever did when we first walked down the isle in 2012. We were both young. Engaged at 19, married at 20. I wasn't even able to legally drink on the day of my wedding. And I cared nothing about what the day looked like, as long as I had him. And our marriage has truly been a metamorphosis of love ever since.
He is everything I've ever wanted in a life partner and I make a choice to love him everyday. And he makes a choice to love me.
Is he my one and only, my soul-mate, the person I could never live without -- no.
I remember when a therapist first told me about the relationship with his second wife. He tried to explain to me about how if his wife wanted to leave him -- Yes, he would be very sad, and ultimately help her pack her bags. However, ultimately -- he wanted what was best for her (because he loved her). If she believed that leaving him was best, he trusted her decision. to do what was right for her in the moment. He said he would always support her in accomplishing what she wanted in life. This is what made him a partner; not a ball-and-chain.
I must say that I hated this explanation. Actually, in true Laura fashion -- I broke out in tears and left his office. And never came back. I don't even remember his name. At the time, I believed he was trying to tell me not to get married so young. This advice went against EVERYTHING I'd ever witnessed about marriage.
What he was really trying to explain was that he and his wife were partners. They chose to be partners, equals and keep their own space as individuals as well. It was advice that planted a seed that kept growing.
This isn't a sad story. It's heartwarming -- me, a woman? Have a choice? Could decide to leave -- without retribution, guilt? It was a concept that marriage was a partnership.
I never wanted my parents marriage. I never wanted my grandparents marriage. From the inside, it was painful to witness. Two people hating each other, trapped in the same house. They felt like they couldn't escape. My mom in-particular had not worked in 20 years, her whole life wrapped up in a man and children that did not appreciate her sacrifice.
A sacrifice that our culture pushes on women.
What if she wanted to leave? What if my dad wanted to leave? It would destroy their identity. And it did.
When they did decided to divorce, it changed everyone involved.
My whole life was wrapped up in listening to what they believed was best. And now?
My parents divorce was official six months before my wedding. I remember my dad pleading with me not to get married, he'd pay for us to live in an apartment for a year first!
Looking back, getting married that young -- after so much trauma, to another person that also had a lot of baggage; could have ended horribly. Yet, there was something inside me that just knew. I just knew this was right, somehow, someway.
But our marriage didn't look anything like my parents. We grew up together, leaned on each other in times of deep healing, and battled ourselves [while the other person encouraged us to be brave]. Marriage is not easy. That happy, furry feeling eventually dissipates. At times, the person is the biggest annoyance. At times, we both questioned our decision to marry so young. I didn't even know myself at 19; how was I suppose to know and love another?
We survived because we were partners second, individuals first.
I got married to feel that true, unconditional stability that I wanted from my nuclear childhood home (and did not receive). And I still feel that way when we cuddle, I still feel that way when we kiss or hug.
I feel a deep, choice that he made love me even in my darkest moments. Because as people -- we are not perfect. And when you truly know that you have someone who could leave, but choose to stay -- to be able to witness the choice, is far more beautiful than some damn "butterfly-feeling" that I once had when I was a child.
He chose to love me.
Through my depression.
When I didn't do anything -- when I felt like a burden; he loved me anyways.
And loving me in my darkest moments, in ALL our darkest moments -- takes courage.
True love takes courage.
I don't love,
in order for you to love me back.
I love,
because I want to express my desire to see past myself.
I love,
so that I can see into another persons soul.
I am rewarded for that choice by a feeling.
To truly love, takes a while. Years and perhaps decades must pass before you can really see love for all the beauty that it is. And when you reflect, to call it a "feeling" seems insulting.
Because when we were fighting, it hurts to hug him and say -- "look lets drop this and go to bed". To say/believe love is a feeling would translate to insecurities in the future.
Yes, those feelings WILL FADE. And if those butterfly aren't there; it would make you question "am I still in love".
Because, isn't love a feeling after all?
Love as a choice, is much more powerful.
In my lifetime of being married, I've had "feelings of attraction" for other people (often confused with "the feeling of love"). And THAT IS OKAY. It's happened to everyone, being attracted to someone isn't something you can control. Your actions are of course, but that feeling?
If you believed love was a feeling --- how much shame would you feel?
Feelings aren't facts. Love is a choice. And I am sticking to it.
