A black box sits on the living room floor. It weighs about twenty pounds. The box contains letters and notes from the first 15 years of our life together. I haven't really taken inventory or read though all of it's contents, I simply collected it all and put it in the box for safekeeping many years ago. I spent a bit of time this morning rifling through it, seeing a snapshot here, reading a snippet there. It's pretty overwhelming. There are the early notes quickly written and dropped off for each other when we were both working summer jobs as teenagers in our tourist-trap seaside town. The excitement of finding a kindred spirit--and the passion of young love (and lust). There are long letters written while my husband was deployed in the United States Navy on submarines, often written halfway across the earth. Words of yearning, the pain of separation palpable in the ink on paper. There are baby pictures of our first two children, mundane chatter about life at home or experiencing exotic ports of call. Many letters express the difficulty of staying connected emotionally while the months seem to span on endlessly. Others communicate the frustrations of trying to raise two small children by myself. Those were the days.
My memories snap back to experiences--both happy and sad--that lay behind us on the road we have traveled for the last 28 years of our life together. We've had our wild adventures and share of troubles. That is something any couple who has been married as long as we have will share with you if they are honest. It's not perfect, it's not "tripping through the daisies" all the time. There are times where you get angry and throw up your hands. You raise your voice at times. Communication inevitably breaks down on occasion. You do it "wrong." We made mistakes, we learned and moved on. We grew as individuals and evolved as a couple. Sometimes there are growing pains. We stress and strain, question where we are at in life. We constantly push each other out of our comfort zones. We are never complacent. We are stronger today than ever. We not only "made it," but we're rewriting to narrative for what it meant to us originally to be married as long as we have.
We met when we were 17 and 18. He was my first serious relationship. He was my first sexual partner. The sparks I felt when I met him were singular--and even today I see him and feel that rush. I don't know how to quite articulate that feeling, but I'm grateful. I thought we'd eventually get tired of each other. I thought he'd leave me as soon as I got older and things weren't *quite* as exciting as they used to be. All men want young women, right? Newness, novelty, incapable of making the long haul with one woman. I had that narrative in my head, and because of that I spent a lot of time trying to actualize my projection of how I thought the demise of my marriage would happen. I grew up with no role models of how to have a healthy, happy long-term relationships. The only thing I had seen was my own parent's dysfunctional marriage splinter over many years and ultimately break apart. I figured that was my fate, and boy, did I waste a lot of time worrying about my marriage breaking up--so much so that it almost did. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that. If I have learned anything about having a long-term relationship over all of these years is that it requires loads of brutal honesty (being able to hear what you partner observes without getting defensive), vast amounts of communication and finally having the ability to make that "leap of faith" with someone. It's about honoring your commitments and realizing that you don't get "everything" you want when you want it, realizing that love means being altruistic. Being altruistic *feels* good, it builds trust and understanding. Life is more than being constantly concerned about what the world and the people in your life "owe" you---they owe you nothing. What have you done to deserve the things you desire? I see people go into relationships with the best of intentions, but no tools to make the journey over the long haul. The very worst thing I'm seeing is people throwing up their hands and saying that marriage isn't worth doing anymore. It's "too much work" and it's a "prison" that nobody would want to be in, that you somehow have to sacrifice everything you are to be married. I hear people say that you will not be able to grow, evolve and have autonomy if you get married. I'm here to say that you have the potential to grow MORE and evolve TOGETHER--challenging each other, holding each other accountable and moving through life with someone who knows you intimately. It's hard to be inauthentic with someone who knows you deeply. It's hard to shirk your responsibility to yourself and others if someone is there to call you on your bad behavior. I see a lot of people treating their spouses badly--and the spouses just seem to let them. That's co-dependent and unhealthy. I observe abuse and lack of regard for their partner's feelings...it goes on and on.
We are given no roadmap to have successful relationships. Perhaps all partnerships are different, but I think there are a few basic guidelines that people can follow in order to have healthy. long-lasting relationships. Be brutally honest, talk about EVERYTHING--no secrets. Share your deepest, darkest fantasies and desires, listen with no judgments. If something bothers you it needs to be understood that it isn't a personal thing--it's just our programming. We carry our guilt and shame for having perfectly natural fantasies, and to have someone who loves us accept us wholly is such a gift. For someone to share things and feel safe is so necessary for intimacy.
Do you have to give up passion for safety? People keep telling me I do. You get married and the intensity eventually wanes, you get totally bored and give up on sex--that's the story. I've been married for 25 years--sex is not only not supposed to be happening for me with my husband, but apparently I'm supposed to be avoiding sex altogether because I'm repulsed by him. I can't tell you how many articles, scientific studies and opinions of friends--generally people who have no long-term relationships in their lives and never have are the ones saying the negative. After 25 years I'm officially giving up listening to the naysayers. I'm too busy having good sex to listen to them anymore...that's all the proof I need. Sure, sometimes it's flaming-hot...other times are comfortable and less intense--but the level of intimacy when it is in that place where you know that you can completely feel free and accepted is incredible. No pretense necessary. I couldn't have imagined being here.
We've reached an interesting and enjoyable place. I feel, maybe for the first time in my entire life, content. We are reorganizing our life--downsizing and getting ready for the next chapter. Time to let all the old fears, insecurities and adversity go and enjoy life. There's a certain peace happening--not to be mistaken with "complacency" I feel like I'm moving forward faster than I ever have.
My husband and I just got back from a trip to our hometown for a friend's wedding. This beautiful friend has been through the ringer as far as love goes. She's been used, abused and generally treated like crap. Still, despite the odds (remember the myth that a woman in her 40's had a better chance of being killed by a terrorist than getting married?) she found a wonderful guy and took the plunge *again* for the second time. I admire that bravery. It's even more amazing, finding love and taking that public step of proclaiming that love legally, when you realize how the deck is stacked against you. People adore watching love bloom, but I believe secretly they wish for your failure. Most people don't end up making it work or having love last...because it's hard. It's work. A whole lot of people don't want to do that work--and the other factor here is choosing people who aren't appropriate in the first place. Even under the best of circumstances people tend to grow in different directions. It takes a lot of effort to stay connected. I think it's simpler for many to just chuck relationships into the dustbin and start over than to confront their and their relationship's shortcomings.
What can I tell you about love after 28 years? It's worth sticking it out through the tough times, because the rewards if you manage to do that are absolutely worth it. But I can't prove that to you. It's a singular journey you have to discover yourself by discovering yourself.
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