As usual, there is a great woman behind every idiot. –John Lennon

Although I’m a huge advocate of remaining ever thankful, I have this pretty big pet peeve regarding labels. I’ve often heard comments made in reference to how “spoiled” I am within my relationship, how I’ve “landed with my butt in the butter”, or how I am “so much more supported and stable” than other people similar to me that maybe don’t have the same caliber romantic relationship. And you know, I’ve got to say that although there may be some truth to those aforementioned statements, they kind of irritate me. And let me tell you why.

It’s no secret that I’ve been through a lot in my thirty years. I haven’t been bashful about the fact that I’m a survivor of domestic violence, that I dated a man who was so cruel and manipulative, it actually frightens me that he holds a job as a civil servant. I’m not ashamed to say that after dating that terrible, ginormous man child, I went a little crazy with my freedom. It didn’t take that big of a taste for me to really value being single, to really grasp that I actually was attractive enough for men to hit on, and to understand that the way that asshole treated me wasn’t the way a woman should be treated.
 
I’m sorry but I won’t sugar coat it because it just doesn’t seem fair. He was an awful person. And if that gets back to him because people like to talk, I hope he can learn from it and use the knowledge in his current relationship. That experience certainly wasn’t lost on me.

I won’t make this blog all about domestic violence and insensitive, abusive, derelict men from Patterson, New Jersey but what I will say is that I worked at all of the things I have now. What people seem to fail to understand is that I’ve worked really hard to become a good person. I’ve worked really hard to take all the scattered pieces of romantic relationships that I’ve learned from and figure out what’s appropriate and what isn’t. I’ve worked really hard to make sure that despite being a victim of domestic violence for many years, I speak to my husband in the way I would want to be communicated with because it’s not his fault my ex-boyfriend was garbage. I’ve worked really hard to ensure that I say exactly the things I mean to say (almost all the time), that I am respectful, despite how I grew into young adulthood and despite how some of my ex-boyfriends have disrespected me. I’ve worked hard to make sure that I work on the things about my personality that might bug my husband, that while still staying true to myself, I am on an endless journey to be better, and I’ve tried to adapt some of his cultural differences and make them a part of my own life.

I mean, I’m not perfect. But I’m a damn good wife. My husband always comes first and I make sure that our relationship always stays the most important thing. The idea that I’m somehow spoiled or maybe a little undeserving of the life I have right now sort of bugs me. The thought that maybe I’m immune to everyday problems because I’ve “landed with my butt in the butter” or “have a stable marriage” really kind of irritates me, if I’m being honest. When people say that in front of my husband, he always jumps right to my rescue and counters back, “Yeah well, I’m pretty lucky too,” because I think he’s pretty sick of hearing it as well.

And that lack of knowledge really bothers me. The idea that I’m just some little trophy wife that’s never suffered any turmoil or had to work for anything in her entire life really sets me off. And it could be that I take it a little personally but that’s only because I’m really sick of hearing it. I’m just really exhausted of the commentary. And I don’t like being punished for having a good relationship; a good relationship that my husband and I have worked really hard to possess.

It actually kind of offends me because I feel like it says absolutely nothing for my character. It says nothing for the fact that I rose like a phoenix and really made something of myself when that piece of garbage did nothing but go out of his way to tear me down. It says nothing for the fact that I made my own life, without any help from anybody, and chose to just keep living. It says nothing for the fact that I sometimes still have anxiety-riddled nightmares about him, that just the Facebook recommendations of his girlfriend’s (or maybe wife’s now, who knows) goddamn photography business makes my heart stop (because he seems to be featured in a lot of the overly Photoshopped photos) because I don’t appreciate seeing anything remotely related to him on my iPhone screen. And it says absolutely nothing for the fact that I really value my husband so much because he’s the exact opposite of my firefighter ex-boyfriend. My husband even quit the fire department when my out of control ex-boyfriend tried to get into his station.

Because I was more important than his budding career. He loved me more.

I like a man who looks like a bad boy but knows how to treat a woman like a queen. –Candace Swanepoel

But what the real take away from all of this is that our relationship is a partnership. One of us isn’t held higher than the other and aside from just purely loving each other, we respect each other. It isn’t as though I cater strictly to him or that he caters only to me. It’s that we are both always putting the other person first. We are both incessantly thinking about what we can do to better the other person’s day, the other person’s particular experience, or the other person’s view on life. I won’t say that we don’t fight because every couple does. But even when doing that, we are thoughtful and respectful. We don’t want to hurt each other just because we’re angry.

And the whole thing about our “partnership” is that it outlasts everybody.

Personally, I have a lot of anxiety. I am always worrying about who I’m pissing off, what I did to make people communicate with me in the manner in which they do, and how the hell I get honked and cussed at incessantly while driving on US 19. As a matter of fact, today one of my biggest issues is that one of my co-workers just won’t stop testing me. She is doing this thing where she continually emails me, notifying me of all the things she’s allegedly done with my clients because I respectfully put her in her place once. As I’m sitting here, I’m literally getting emails every couple of minutes, each one extremely passive aggressive and each one like she’s just trying to have the last word. Like she’s sitting there, from her little work station at home, just trying to defend herself.

And I’m like, what exactly did I do to make this woman react like this? Followed up with a few clients? Sent her a couple reminder emails because she couldn’t seem to do things in a timely fashion? Finally tagged my supervisor in the email because I was sick of getting ignored inexplicably? I wish my work computer was capable of creating emojis so I could just send her a thumbs up every time she sasses me.

But what do I do? I worry about it. I worry about everything all the time because unlike a lot of the people I’m connected to, through work or whatever, I actually care about how I affect other people. I worry constantly about my perfect, unborn baby and about the control people try to exert over me. I worry about the crappy behavior that people project on me and then get concerned about what they think when I finally get sick of it and blow them off. I worry about sassing people I care about, even when they sometimes deserve it because I don’t like being tough on people. I worry about coming off too quiet or unsociable sometimes because I don’t want people to think I’m rude. But I think that what I worry the absolute most about is annoying my husband with all this nonsense that I’m always chronically worrying about.

The thing about having a partner that really has your back is that all that other stuff, all those little things that you almost always worry about, seem to go away whenever they’re around. Sometimes, when I’m really anxious or worked up over something, I’ll kind of ramble on a bit until I realize that I’ve said the same thing about fourteen times. My genuinely sweet husband will listen for only so much until I can tell that he’s visibly tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

He’ll usually let me finish (and by finish, I mean that I literally finish what I’ve been saying for the fourteenth time) and then he’ll say something to the effective of, “It’s all good, babe. We can’t talk about this for the next year. It’ll be fine.”

And I don’t know why but once I’ve gotten over the fact that he doesn’t want to hear me repeat myself, I feel better. At first, I’m a little stung. Kind of like, “Hey bro, I was talking,” but then I realize that he’s right. Sure, venting about whatever is currently ailing me is probably providing a little bit of catharsis for me and sure, it’s only healthy to discuss whatever is going on with my husband but the truth is that he’s right. I don’t need to go on and on about the same thing over and over again just to elevate my own blood pressure. I don’t need to sit and obsess over something that someone said or something that may or may not even happen. And honestly, once I’ve said it once, repeating it just seems kind of worthless. I mean, I’ve already made my point, right? 

When a woman is talking to you, listen to what she says with her eyes. –Victor Hugo

The thing about the partnership that I share with my husband is that we have this really special way of communicating. I don’t have to say anything sometimes and my husband already knows what wheels are spinning. “The crazy ones,” he’s probably thinking right now while he reads this.

Once my husband and I were out with friends of ours who have been married for a few years but a couple about as long as we have (nearly a decade). The husband portion of the pair was joking about how when they’re out in public, his wife will silently signal him a certain way when people ask them questions. For example, when they’re out and it’s getting kind of late but everyone else wants them to stay, she’ll lightly kick him under the table to signify that she wants to leave when another round of shots is offered. The husband joked further and said, “I always say to her, ‘Hey, why are you kicking me?’”

This got me to thinking because of course this is a situation taken out of context. You would have to know the couple in question in order to fully understand this cute mode of communication they have. They’re always joking with each other and teasing each other to keep conversation light and friendly. It isn’t like he’s really that stupid and doesn’t realize that she wants to leave. He’s just calling her out and making a joke because that’s the brand of personality he has. Of course this man puts his wife first but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop playfully teasing her because how boring would that be? I can’t even imagine this man’s personality without the incessant wisecracks; it would take a lot of his sparkle away.

But my husband is a little bit different than this aforementioned friend of mine because although he likes to make fun of me what feels like constantly, our communication flows a lot different. Sometimes, when we’re out in public and I’ve either had enough fun for the night or I’m just over the situation we’re in, I’ll give him a look and he’ll say, “I’m beat, we should get going.” I always thought that was really admirable too because even if I’m the one that wants to leave, he’s the one that will outwardly take the blame.

There are other times when my husband will ask me a question about my opinion on something. It could be something as simple as, “Where do you want to go for date night?” or something as intricate as, “What color do you want to paint the baby’s nursery?” but somehow, since it’s me, I always overcomplicate it. I get stressed about all the options I’m given in any particular situation and my mind starts going a million miles a minute. I think to myself, Oh my gosh, dinner? There are so many good places! I don’t even know what I’m in the mood for and I don’t want to miss out on something. (In case you guys haven’t figured this out yet, I basically have chronic FOMO…) Or, God forbid, nursery colors? I mean, do you even know how many pastel shades they make? How is someone supposed to just decide that so quickly?

You want to know what’s really contributing to the anxiety epidemic? It isn’t illegal prescriptions, marijuana and alcohol. It’s choices! Home Depot is why people have anxiety, friends!

But what usually happens is I kind of submit to something I don’t want. I tend to agree sort of against my own better judgement and he can sense it right away. And although I hate to admit it, this happens in various aspects of my life and it’s definitely something I’m working on. I’ve always been one of those people that likes to hear all the options, I want to know what’s good about every choice and sometimes it makes me really easy to persuade. You should have seen me at the MAC store the other day. They were pushing this limited edition Ariana Grande collection and I looked at the advertisement and said, “Oh, I just love her; she’s perfect!” and the woman was like, “You know, that color is limited edition and when it’s gone, it’s gone!” I looked at my husband because I started thinking, Gone?! But I NEED this color! It’s limited edition!

Lip gloss, friends. I have anxiety about not being able to purchase a limited edition MAC Plush Gloss color that wasn’t even created by Ariana Grande! They just used her as the face to get people to buy it. I worked in retail for years; I already know this! But the thought of missing out on something so special was terrifying. And in case you’re wondering, I did buy it and it’s still in the box because I have about fourteen other ones that I like just a smidge better.

But what’s really amazing about the relationship that I’m in, about the partnership that I’m a part of, is that my husband knows all of this nonsense. Sometimes when I’m saying yes to things that I think might be the right decision or what I think is whatever he wants to do, he’ll look at me and say, “You don’t want to go?” or “You don’t like this color?” or “What do you really want, babe?” And I’ll usually say something to the effect of, “No, it’s nice!” or “I like it…” or “I don’t really know what I want but I don’t think I want that.”

And although all of this sounds crazy and I’m sure that a lot of you are feeling really sorry for my husband right about now, for me, his knowledge about me is really comforting. I’ve never been in the position with him where I’m really just going along for the ride and hoping it works out. I could be yessing someone to death and he immediately recognizes I’m not comfortable. Because he’s really protective (and always has been), he’ll jump right in and say, “You know what? We’re not fully decided on a color yet,” or “You know what? I think we’re at the wrong restaurant. We’re supposed to be meeting someone at the place across the street.”

(That’s actually a true story: one time, my husband and I were having this like, “Date Day” and we went to a restaurant at International Plaza that’s no longer there anymore. I was the one that had wanted to go there because I had been there once, years ago, and remembered it being good. He was kind of annoyed because it took what felt like hours for them to seat us and then when we finally did sit down, I learned that my back was sticking to the booth because it hadn’t been cleaned. We sat with our menus for a while and I started to get uncomfortable because I was already regretting choosing this place. He looks at me while I’m pretending to study the menu and he’s like, “You want to leave.” It wasn’t a question; he could pick it up from the way I was acting. I was like, “It’s okay, babe. We waited so long to be sat.” He takes my menu, grabs my hand and he’s like, “No, we’ll go somewhere else.”

When we’re walking out, the waiter, who still hadn’t come for our drink order, looked super confused and maybe a little insulted. My husband goes, “We’re so sorry! We’re meeting someone and we’re at the wrong place!” He didn’t make a scene, he didn’t say “Hey bro, your booth was filthy and got all over my wife’s Express Portofino…”, he didn’t say, “This place is a shithole and I foresee you closing in a few months,” he just grabbed my hand and we left. I didn’t have to say a word and he knew I didn’t want to be there.)

Moral of the Crazy: Honestly, this is a subject that I could go on and on about but since you’ve all got New Year’s Resolutions to continue adhering to, I’ll attempt to keep it short. The thing is that in my previous life, in other relationships that I had with men, I never really had that kind of closeness with someone. I never really felt that companionship, that partnership of really being attuned to another person, of really caring enough about another individual to just know what they’re going to say before they say it. I have to say that from the very beginning of our relationship, well before we were even married, I have never felt so supported, so comforted, and so protected. I had never really been shown that kind of love before from another romantic relationship and now that I’ve gotten it, I don’t know how other people go through life without it.

I mean, of course our relationship isn’t perfect; every couple’s got their ups and downs. I just feel like sometimes, especially when I’m talking to my girlfriends, even some of the married ones, I’m shocked at the type of communication they have. I’m taken aback by the way some of my female friends just take care of things on their own because their husbands/boyfriends either can’t do it or just won’t. I always kind of wrinkle my eyebrows when some of my friends tell me the things that their significant other says to them because I’m just like, “My husband would neverrrrrr.”

And that isn’t to say that they’re in bad relationships, necessarily. I guess it’s maybe just that I’m so acclimated to the way my husband treats me now that I don’t think I could ever put up with anyone else. I mean, I haven’t pumped my own gas in years (except on rare occasions) because my husband gets it for me. Do you want to know why he gets it for me? It isn’t because he likes doing it or because thinks that it’s his job as a big, buff husband. He does it because I don’t like worrying about it when I leave for work in the morning. He does it because I don’t like touching that filthy gas pump because the only thing more disgusting than those pumps is money. He does it because I spend a lot of money on fragrances and I don’t like smelling like gas when I walk into work.

It isn’t because he has to or even because he wants to. It’s because it’s one little thing that he can do to just make my day a little smoother.

And I feel sometimes like I may come across as a little controlling to the untrained eye because when my husband’s friends ask him to go out and be social (and I do this with my friend’s too), he’ll always say, “Oh, let me just double check with Katie and see what we’re doing.” (I mean, obviously if it’s a night when he’s closing and I’m already asleep, he just goes because I won’t hear his texts anyway. I wouldn’t hear a bomb go off in my house. I’m hoping that changes with my super exciting pending motherhood…) His friends probably think I’m some kind of crazy person because my husband has to “check with me” before he makes plans. But it’s not about that at all.

My husband and I have this thing: we actually love spending time together. I love girl’s days as much as the next person but I’m not going to go and intentionally make plans while my husband is sitting at home by himself. I’m sure he doesn’t really care and honestly, that man is so ADD he’s probably got fifty things on his list to do but I’m not about that life. I didn’t get married to never be around and honestly, I love my girlfriends more than anything but if I had to pick who I would rather spend a Saturday night with, my husband is going to win every time. And maybe that sounds selfish but it is what it is.

I guess it’s just that I’m not trying to take over my husband’s social life. I’m not trying to be this clingy, psychotic wife. But at the same time, the reality is, if you incessantly have to get away from your spouse, if you’re always trying to “seek a little independence”, then maybe you don’t need to be with them. And I’m tired of apologizing for actually putting care and effort into my relationship. I don’t feel like I should have to defend myself and say, “I’m sorry I’m not going out tonight; it’s not that I don’t want to necessarily, I just really want to spend time with my husband.”

One of my friends from my old job used to always tease me about that. She was married too but she had a couple of kids and their family was just super busy. “Family days” were sort of few and far between and although they were very coveted, she wasn’t glued to her husband in the way that I was. She used to say to me, “What do you mean, you can’t come because you want to hang out with your husband? You LIVE with him!” And although she was totally teasing me, I used to get kind of aggravated because I was always thinking to myself, I’m sorry, I just really like him and I want to spend all my time with him. I mean, why should I have to defend myself for being a good wife, right? Why should I have to defend myself for actually wanting to spend my free time with the person I chose to marry? Am I right?

The bottom line is that although I’ve been accused of it before, I don’t just throw my marriage around as an excuse to be antisocial. “Being married” isn’t an excuse; it’s a choice. And it’s a choice that I made and honestly, I never looked back. I never, for even one second, thought to myself, “What am I doing? Why am I marrying this man? What if I get sick of him?” What I was thinking was, “What will my life be if I let this man out of my life? What kind of person will I be without him? What in God’s name will happen to me if he wakes up and realizes he’s married to a neurotic, crazy person?”
And you know what? I think he does know it. I think he realized that shit a long time ago and he’s okay with it. I think he sees something in me that he’s never found in someone else. I think that maybe my tendency to get a little anxious and crazy meshes perfectly with his instinct to save people. He’s saved me from the very first day. He’s always been there for me and I’ll always be there for him. He’s my Ride or Die.

But more importantly, he’s my partner. We’re on this crazy ride together and I don’t think that either one of us would prefer it any other way.

I hope you’ve all got relationships like this or that you’re well on your way to finding them. And I hope that you realize that within a relationship, you’re still an independent. You still have all those same pieces of yourself. You just have someone there to help you pick them back up when things fall apart. You just have someone to open the door for you when you pull into the valet lot. You just have someone to remind you how great you are when you’re having a rough day.

And you’ve always got someone to pump your gas.

What your friends all say is fine but it can’t compete with this pillow talk of mine. –Joss Stone, Pillow Talk

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