I’ve seen this “Marry Your Best Friend" piece floating around the Internet recently.
And while I agree to some extent [for crying out loud- don’t marry someone that makes you looney tunes from the get go], I have a hard time agreeing to the marry the one person that completes you catchall. As we’re all individual people, it’s hard for one quote to be fitting for each one of us specifically. For me, I am my own best friend. It might be very different for another person; with entirely different baggage than I have to tote.
Don’t get me wrong- I love my husband. I can’t imagine my life without him. He is by far a better person than I am on 97% of the days. What I can’t handle is people that paint such rosy pictures of marriage. It isn’t all sunshine and butterflies once you walk down the aisle. And having someone there that agrees with you and tells you something that you want to hear won’t make the trip any easier. Sometimes laugher is the best medicine and yet- it can’t heal sick parents, mounting financial debt, and emotional insecurity. For these, I hope you married someone that possesses a sense of logic and calm. Sure, it’s great to have a foundation of mutual trust and respect before saying “I do” but doesn’t that go without saying?
There will be times when your other half fills your vacuum cleaner with wet plaster and leaves it sitting in the drum of the appliance until you go to use the thing for it’s original purpose- cleaning the floors. Not to mention that you’ve had the same "Our Dyson isn’t the same thing as a Shop-Vac" conversation at least a half dozen times before.
Or when the dazzling, handsome man you married hides his smelly, dirty running clothes in secret [and dilapidated] clothes hampers because you- again- have nagged him countless times about washing his stinky ass shit before dropping it on the floor.
Of course there are the mornings that he wakes up early to make breakfast for me. Or surprises me with my favorite bottle of wine. Or when he takes one for the team and watches my smut reality tv just to make me happy. He has his scores of redeeming qualities that’s for sure.
Simply put- I think you should marry someone that makes you laugh. Marry someone that sticks by you through the tough shit. Marry someone that will always have your back and that knows- no matter what- you should always pull for one another. You are a team after all. Marry someone that is a good human being, that knows the difference between right and wrong, that is kind, and that cares for animals (this is a true test of a humble spirit IMO). I married someone that challenges me, that pushes me to be a better person, that is the yin to my yang in every sense of the term.
And if marrying isn’t your thing ((some say it is just a piece of paper))— just be happy living in the now.
I’ve come to understand that looks very different for everyone. Much does happiness, success, and failure.
To me, I don’t have to marry my best friend because I’ve been here all along. And I think that’s one of the greatest things that I could have given my marriage; that I know myself well enough to not need another person to complete me. Rather, I choose him to be my partner and complement my crazy with a rational sense of calm and analytical stability.
Instead of Marry Your Best Friend… I think maybe that paragraph should be revised to say Search for Someone that Suits You….
but that’s the great thing about this country of ours. That we’re all entitled to our own opinions.
[deep conversation for a Monday morning, no?]
Six months. ((and two days to be exact))
Half way there.
If I were more concerned about my self image, I wouldn’t let on that I high fived myself on Monday morning when I realized that six months have passed. But I’m not. And I did.
Back to pushing the envelope; knowing what I want and fighting for it.
Some might say that I’ve learned a lesson or two about acceptance, patience, and faith.
I’d tell you more. About growing up more than I ever thought was possible.
And fairness, fear.
About letting go.
I’m prepared this time. I’m healthy, I’m accepting, and I’m confident that I deserve my little slice of happiness.
I know it will come when it’s time.
And more than anything, I know that part—the time equation—is completely out of my control.
Six months. I can’t believe how quickly they’ve gone.
& I can’t wait to see what’s next.
I often self reflect, over analyze, and try to figure out just how I can make myself a better person. I think this is one of the reasons I yearn [as a human] for quiet; alone time. I’m very well aware of my downfalls and my short comings and I try each and every day to progressively make myself more successful [be it professionally, personally, or both] than I was the day before.
I had a very hard time “letting go” after my treatment ended. Perhaps it’s the fact of- after countless months of weekly doctors appointments and blood tests- being released back into the wild on my own and not really knowing (having control over) what was next. Or perhaps it was the fear. The growing, nagging fear that the stupid thing was going to resurface and we would have to start all over again at square one. It’s no surprise to anyone that I’m a worrier and letting go is a HUGE challenge of mine.
I’ve had my own personal obstacles since January that have prohibited me from personally progressing the way I would have liked. That’s frustrating, you know? For someone so driven to not be able to make things work just the way she wants them. After all I was able to conquer, it seemed that my biggest opponent was myself.
And then- heaven and earth shifted (kidding)- and I realized that once I stop fighting against myself, life would be much easier. Yes, this sounds like simple potatoes for most people. But for me, for the challenges that I’ve loved bestowing at my own doorstep, this was huge. I mentioned a few weeks ago that I was trying very hard to “take it easy on myself”. I traded in a day of intense exercise for yoga (Raleigh peeps— get thee to Evolve Movement and ask for Emily) in hopes of helping to find some acceptance and some zen. To strip away the stress of the past and just focus on being here where I am right now.
The change has been delightful. Instead of beating myself up over not completing a task perfectly, I’m finally able to look myself in the mirror and laugh about it. It’s okay to not always do EVERYTHING exactly the way you want to. Acceptance of myself has been my biggest challenge to date— and so far, I do think I’m handling this new task quite well.
I’ll say this in the same breath- it’s freeing to let go finally. To look up in the sky on a sunny morning in June and say
“I understand now. I get why this all has fallen into place the way it has. I just hope you give me strength to tackle whatever is next”.
I’m excited about things once again. The feeling of anxiety and fear and dread at the thought of getting pregnant again; the possibly of having to relive the last 18 months of my life is now gone. Instead, I’m trying to revolve my world around the hope for the future.
Is this a constant happening in my life- this peace and personal healing that I’ve found? No. It takes work. But I’m choosing to focus on building and evolving instead of fighting and living in fear of what’s to come. Because after realizing I have little to no control of my own fate, it really makes logical sense for me to waste my time and energy on something more productive.
One breath, one step, one day at a time.
For what feels like an eternity, I’ve had words to put on paper. Feelings to air, personal roller-coasters to address, matters of the heart to [over] share with you all. But as of late, I feel like I’ve had very little with actual substance to say here.
[aside from the excessive shopping posts which I realize you all can only stomach so much of]
Call it a lucky change of tides. Call it a blessing of fortune. Call it the return of regular old life. Whatever this is- I quite like it. But my writing has been left in “it’s” wake; a bit lackadaisical and lackluster.
The most exciting thing to happen at our house in a matter of weeks? The king sized bed that was delivered last weekend. The most difficult decision we’ve made? Picking out fabrics for a new headboard. I realize this is petty and unimportant and perhaps that’s the whole point of this diatribe. I realize how lucky I am to be able to say this; that normalcy has returned as well as health and happiness while there are so many out there less fortunate than me. I don’t discount that one bit.
So, that leaves me here. Hoping that each one of you has the same blessing of normalcy bestowed upon you. But if not, I can’t help but send out a few well wishes in hopes that it [whatever your “normal” looks like] returns quickly.
So that begs the question— how are you on this rainy Monday morning?
I’m an idealist. I like to see the world through my rose-colored glasses. To believe that all people are really good at heart.
So of course I enthusiastically said [in fact, I might have screamed] “I’m IN!!” when I heard about Ann Curry’s idea. Her #26acts of kindness in remembrance of the precious lives lost at Sandy Hook Elementary last Friday. What you do and how you share your #Acts is 100% up to you. I don’t plan on posting about my actions; I’m doing this to remember those in Newtown and not for personal recognition on any front. However, I did feel that I should share the experience I had this morning as a recipient of someone else’s #26acts.
I waiting until this morning to fill up my gas tank on the way to work. As I pulled into the station, got out of my car, and prepared to fill up my tank, I dropped the gas cap under my car. Great- I thought to myself. Here I am standing in frigid temps in ridiculous studded pumps and now I have to climb under my car and get that stupid thing. I continued the process of paying at the pump and almost forgot about the cap. Until someone tapped me on the shoulder.
It was a kind, generous gentleman who had taken the opportunity to pay it forward. He clearly saw me drop my gas cap and instead of standing and laughing as I attempted to combat crawl under my SUV, he simply retrieved it for me. No need to ask; just a simple act of kindness.
As he handed me my gas cap, I spuddered off about 14 “Thank yous” and bid the man a very, very Merry Christmas. He walked away, got into his own car, and drove off. I don’t think that man knows the impact that he’s now made on my day. Here again- a simple act & a huge payoff.
So, for this I’m hopeful: as we’re all out engaging in our #26acts over the next few days, I’m going to pray that this rubs off on us all. That the “do-good feeling” has a lasting effect on us all and that we continue to go out of our ways to exhibit kindness to our fellow man. May we strive to make this a part of our everyday. Let it continue to be a source of pride for each of us. Imagine the impact YOU could make on this world with a smile and a couple of acts of sincere kindness…