Happy Anniversary

Here we are, the day of our three year anniversary. Ok, so if you ask my husband it’s not actually our anniversary. And he’s right – it’s not. We got married in April, just us and his family, at the Courthouse. The circumstances at the time called for it – I’m not American-born and I’ll leave it at that. But we did get married again, the whole shebang, almost six months later. And while we’d already been legally married for half a year, that day (actually, that weekend, because this tribe knows how to get down) will always be my favorite. What makes it so special, you ask? Well, you may have already read about my ever-present anxious demeanor - I wasn’t kidding when I said it was bad. Anxiety rules my life. Now imagine an unremitting need for control and an insatiable desire to predict the future, and pair that with something as monumental as a wedding day – sounds like a recipe for disaster, if you ask me. To be quite honest, I was afraid of exactly that. I thought my temperament was going to ruin what was intended to be the best day of my life. So much so I went ahead and ignored every wedding-related issue in the weeks leading up to the big day that could have probably benefitted from my attendance. Because [insert squealing noise].

But during the final countdown something inside me shifted, and my heart took over. I unconsciously understood this was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime event, and no matter how much control I was going to have, life was going to happen – aka shit was going to hit the fan. And it did: The dog was almost devoured by coyotes in the mountainside of Murrieta. My engagement ring took a dip into a gutter just minutes before the ceremony. My mother who flew in from the motherland (aka Germany) couldn’t handle the intensity of emotions, and had to remove herself. All viable reasons to lose ALL THE MARBLES as a bride. But I didn’t. Instead, I handled every situation with grace, compassion, hope, and faith. I knew in my heart, this was MY day, and nothing was going to change that. Now, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t delusional. I realized the detriment of not having my engagement ring while walking down the aisle (thankfully, gum and a fearless sister prevented that situation from happening), but I also knew I was about to say yes to the man of my dreams in front of the people who loved us most, and whether Irie had become coyote dessert or not, we were meant to be together.

Fast forward three years, life isn’t always all that magical. Actually, shit’s been pretty rough these days. And there have been moments where I’ve questioned the determinism I was so infatuated with initially – maybe I was just telling myself we were meant to be? What if someone better is out there, for both him and myself? What if neither one of us is living their most fulfilled lives? Guess what – no one fucking knows! But also, who cares?! There will always be alternate scenarios, dimensions, outcomes, better or worse, they are different for sure. What matters is what we have. What matters is that this man made a point of pursuing me, even though I was nothing more than a fleeting encounter in a plethora of memories – he could have easily erased our interaction. Instead, he cherished it so much so he chose to walk up to me on the patio of his restaurant (to be fair, only a few “witnesses” were present at the time) and asked me to sit as his bar. If that doesn’t tell you something, this might: He spent the night spooning me in my cat-hair-infested bed and almost died (because deadly allergic), just to be close to me after my two-week hiatus to Germany. And frankly, he had the balls, and decency, to ask me if I wanted to be with him (mind you, he had already announced it to his family before he actually asked me, but it made it all the more enticing to me). Clearly, he wanted me. And based on his unmatched intellect, he wanted me for a reason far beyond my physicality.

So what’s up with the all trials and tribulations? Why endure them? Because that’s what love is made of. A lifetime together isn’t supposed to be smooth sailing. It’s supposed to be stormy, even life-threatening. Not because relationships are a burden we have to endure, but because they're our safe haven, our harbor, from which we can confidently navigate the open sea. Knowing there is someone who will always have my back, no matter how unrealistic my idea or how ridiculous my emotional outburst, makes life a lot easier.

Does that come with conflict? Of course! Why? Because we’re all human: we have different needs, expectations, limitations, dreams. Our stories are all unique. And we’re the hero in whatever fable we’re telling ourselves to be true. Not because we’re selfish assholes (although that’s certainly a concern in current times - no offense, millennials), but because we can’t help but look at the world from our point of view. I mean literally – you look at the world with your own two eyes, exactly from your vantage point. So we’re prone to misunderstanding, misreading, assuming incorrectly – all actions that are amplified when emotionally tied to another being. Not because we lack care or love for the person across from us, but because we care so much. Care causes us to worry, and anxiety is the enemy of flexibility. If you do the math, you shouldn’t be surprised when told that relationships ARE difficult. In fact, if they’re not, I challenge you to take a step back and assess whether complacency has taken the place of care and love. Because we all know, when we don’t care, we couldn’t care less. And when we care, we’re invested. So next time you’re faced with challenges in your relationship, don’t simply attribute them to incompatibility, betrayal, disdain – look at them from the lens of love, and allow yourself to see that the person across from you might be acting with nothing but your best interest at heart, even if it doesn’t always feel like it in the moment.