There are so many things I want this blog to be, so many things I want to be. Creative, funny, engaging, original…
The blogosphere is so daunting, all these beautiful people blogging about their beautiful lives. Some are better at photoshopping the cracks to form smooth, beautiful images. Others, like myself, aren’t very good at that. So instead of revealing the cracks, I just stop blogging for long periods of time. I know not many people read this, but even when I look back on it in a few years, I don’t want to remember the hard times and the imperfect edges that I have. I want to look back and smile, “Look at the creative thing I made, look at that funny post I wrote.”
But that’s not my real life. I’m mildly creative when the mood strikes, I’m pretty awesome at following a recipe and making a good dish, I have moments where I think I’ve made the most hilarious funny ever. Yes, I just used funny as a noun. And what’s even more not real life was that Ian and I’s first year of marriage was incredibly awesome all the time.
Before I continue, everyday Ian and I grow deeper in love with each other and things become minutely easier. We learn how better to communicate with one another, how to unconditionally love each other, how to forgive each other quickly, how to be each other’s protagonist instead of antagonist, how to be on the same team. Most of these qualities come so much easier to him. He doesn’t have to try to be patient, he just is. He doesn’t have to work to forgive me, he just does. He doesn’t have to remember to choose to love me, he always loves me.
Me, on the other hand, I get frustrated and impatient easily. I hold grudges and have to cool down before I can forgive. And worst of all, sometimes my love comes with conditions.
Marriage is mostly awesome, but there’s also this part of marriage that is awful. There are these moments where I feel like I am spectator in my own marriage. I see my selfishness and pride and I hate it. But it’s who I am, so even though I’m aware of my behavior, it’s incredibly hard to change. Who knew being refined was so painful?
I like to blame it on the fact that we got married in our late 20s and I was used to being on my own. I hadn’t had to share stuff in ages, but now I have to share everything. My bed, my food, my bank account.
But this is the thing, those aren’t mine things. They’re ours.
So you see, while year one of marriage was pretty cool (slumber parties every night with my best friend, having someone to hang out with always, and all the other good things about being married), it was also really rough. It’s an adjustment to have your imperfections thrown in your face and not be able to escape them. It’s hard to find the creative, funny, engaging and original parts that exist within you when you feel consumed by your faults.
So here’s to our second year of marriage. May we help each other be inspired to be the best versions of ourselves and embrace all the qualities we embody, both good and bad.