The Thing About Marriage Is That... It’s Not Actually Sustainable

When I say, "I'm in pain and I want to quit," He says......

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I used to wonder what it would be like be in a "simpler" relationship... Which sounds really awful to say on paper.

I used to say, "If I were married and it was just vanilla, would it be a better life?" (Ironically, the person-in-question's favorite flavor of ice cream is vanilla, which is a waste of ice cream to me but whatever)...

And by that I mean: Someone who challenges me less.

One of the worst crimes this man has ever done, towards me, is believing in me TOO much.

This- as crinkly as it looks on this textbook line- is actually sometimes a very difficult thing. If I say that I want to create a small dance company that heals some of the wounds of my past, he basically says, "Yes m’am, but you should aim for the skies."

My Uncle Way once loved a loud, complicated woman who was a very colorful flavor of ice cream, who came with children of her own at a time when men simply didn't adopt and take on kids in the way we might hope now. She’d escaped something painful... And he did not see her pain as bags too heavy to carry.

They were married for 50-ish years, and he used to joke that the key to marriage was simply saying, "Yes m'am"- but I think he, and even this challenging jerk that I love today, are actually loves who say: "Yes m'am, AND...." Because they both believed in women who put every topping on their ice cream, and made no apologies for not being simpler.

This man may order vanilla... But he is complex to make a life with, because even when I say, "I'm in pain and I want to quit," He says, "But you bring something special to the world"... And that brings something special to my world which I don't naturally have: It brings the "and".

I dream small because small is safe… and I likely always will. I also will always say, "I told you so" when something fails, and be a fatalist who owes 50-ish years of apologies for all the times I've reminded him why believing in me and others meant risk, and risk meant not being perfect, and looking perfect to the outside world who never really knows what anyone's bags feel like to carry or marry is unacceptable to me.... Thus, I never remind him of all the times his love has actually made the world better.

If you share your weaknesses with the world (my being sick, for example, or our not knowing perfectly what we're doing but being willing to give everything for free and at personal cost to try, or not being experienced but trying instead of quitting)= No one will follow you for long. But with every mistake made here, there were at least three or four selfless acts given too. Acts that brought dancers to stages they otherwise might not have had... Or kept more students and performers doing what they love for longer... Or tried- even if that sentence feels a little short.

Someone that tried... as the concluding verb.

He quietly endures whatever the world thinks, and never sets a record straight. Even when he could make a case for making a case, he never will. He has dignity when the world demands something else, says he’s sorry to us first, takes whatever hits comes our way if it means we girls are or were safer, healthier… okay. If I asked “okay”, he’d say “okay”.

To be guarded-honest, we used to be open about a lot of things. I’d essentially ‘market’ our marriage back in the day. I was our 'love publicist'. We posted vlogs and shared the banter we have behind closed doors that no one sees now, and then - due to safety for my girls - we stopped. Life became so double-scooped that we nearly died along with all the times I nearly died.

Yet, our love was built, initially, on what he later tried to pay forward. We were built on meal trains from his work a decade ago when I had 26% lung function, or a few sparing Bests who were willing to be in an ICU with me when he couldn't quit work, or drove me to get my stitches out not long before he finally had to (the last few months of not being able to work have been hard, to say the least, but brighter horizons ahead).

We had a meet-cute. He raised my girls no matter the matter. He’s seen me turning blue in ERs and turning yellow in ERs and was all the Augustus Waters when it counted, even if he’s more caring about some things than caretaking about others and that’s just the ‘human’ of it all.

The thing about marriage is that: it’s not actually sustainable? We hurt. And we get hurt. And I stopped publicizing our love. It just became survival and parenthood… and THAT is what no one says online.

They say “marriage takes work” but if you’re a hopeless romantic like me, you think: “Yeah but it won’t be for ME.”

Even as a serial monogmoist (high school relationship was 4 years, next was 7), who truly knows what commitment can look and feel like: Every year we complete together has me looking around at the other couples on the 10-year or 13-year or more-year mountaintops and go, "Oh, NOW I see what you were talking about."

Is it better to find someone who believes in your dreams so much that they dream them too hard than too little?

Is it better to find someone who’s so themselves that they they’re too candid with you sometimes… but never anything other than exactly what they said they were at onset?

Is it better to find someone who f*cks up as much as you do... but owns it, and says they’re sorry more than you ever would, because sorry- it turns out- is the opposite of the loneliest word?

As with all people, this human has overcome some things that even those who think they know him don’t know. The ‘brothers’ (childhood best friends) who’ve been by his side his whole life know… but even his wordy wife has kept quiet the horrors of his past from my friends; The enormous mountains he’s scaled.

Not everyone will love your love without knowing them (my mom still sometimes thinks his grumpy northerner face means he’s mad, when really he’s just thinking “——“), and one of the things that bothers me the most about him IS the fact that he won't be his own publicist. If he knows someone jumped to a conclusion but never bothered to ask a "why", he doesn't go show the receipts of life like he could.

He's always felt that the right people will ask a question, and the wrong people will tell a thought. And he's right. (That's annoying too.)

Our love isn't vanilla (easy) like I sometimes wish it was... But our life went from monochrome to Dorothy-vision because he saw a broken, burried, single-mother who was a loud, complicated woman...

And he just saw… me.

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