That's Worth Fighting For

Beyond soul mates, beyond best friends, beyond all the terms of endearment used over the ages by starry eyed lovers on their wedding day, there is something I've never truly heard but that exists between those whose love and devotion stand the test of time.  It is spiritual love.  Until yesterday, I had no true grasp on it. 

Sitting on the sofa, snuggled in each others' arms, I shared with my fiancé my take on the current Bachelorette episode.  Andy, the bachelorette, was down to two beaus competing for her heart and her hand.  Of one, I observed that not only did he say he loved her but was able to tell her why.  "I believe he's the one she is going to pick," I told him.  The other, though more the Adonis, said something that also stood out for me. (At least it is what was edited for that particular episode.  So in all fairness, he might have said something deeper and richer.  Honestly, I doubt it.)  What he said was that he loved how Andy chose things to do that she knew he'd like.  It probably was genuine and heartfelt on his part, but it was in true "jock fashion."

You see, there is the love we have for somebody who does what we want them to do.  They make us feel good.  They make us feel okay as we are.  They don't challenge us to bend, to change, to see someone other than ourselves.  "I love him," I've heard many a woman gush.  But when asked what she loves about him, it is always based in the superficial.  He somehow serves some image that she has created of the kind of man who would make her happy.  Sadly, any "love" the comes from ego will not stand the tests of time. 

Then there is a spiritual love.  It's often described as agape love.  And for those of us who don't understand Greek, I'll break it down.  It is unconditional love.  This is a love that transcends two lovers looking tenderly into one another's eyes after all-encompassing lovemaking.  It transcends physicality.  It transcends control.  It just is.  No matter what, it remains.

I have to be honest, I have not known this kind of love.  Even with two marriages, I never even could conceive of this kind of love.  And can I get really real?  When it comes to getting married, I fail to understand the unconditional nature of marriage when vows are exchanged.  It is very conditional!  I vow to do this for you and you vow to do this for me.  You promise fidelity.  You promise to love and to cherish, forsaking all others.  Wedding vows are conditions that are agreed on.  Though we say marriage should not be entered into ill advisedly, we couples do it all the time.  We promise to uphold our end of the bargain as long as you uphold yours.  If you don't, then either we subscribe to a life of suffering, where we come off as martyrs, or all bets are off.

Until I told my fiancé what I loved about him, I didn't comprehend that our love was so much more.  Sure, he's romantic.  He's thoughtful.  He's passionate.  I would be remiss to not acknowledge those qualities as they are a part of his empathetic and nurturing nature.  At the same time, that same empathy and nurture have left me feeling neglected at times because of his accommodating nature.  He has been the "man" of his family since his mother and father divorced.  That's a tall order that has defined his life for 50 years.  It has brought him a sense of purpose but it has also been, at times, quite confining.  We both struggle with accommodating others.  Mine is not as intense, but I find it difficult to say "no" to those whom I truly care about.  Yep, there is a pot and kettle that are both black. 

Despite this, there is something that trumps all of that.  There is a purity in him that pulls me up beyond my anxiety about it, beyond my ego, beyond my judgments, beyond my opinion, beyond my perspective, beyond my fears that get triggered.  It draws out of me my Higher Self.  It is deeply spiritual.  It is richly shared.  It isn't something that we control, it is what we surrender to.  It is communion.   

Lest I should boggle your mind with spiritually verbose chatter, let me give you an example.  Something that my fiancé did pushed that "I feel neglected" button.  It was the same thing and as I pondered previous infractions, my this-far-and-no-further took center stage.  Okay, I was angry.  God knows, I was angry.  What I didn't count on was him walking up my stairs and standing in front of me.  He was exasperated, true.  Yet, in his exasperation, he didn't come to argue.  What he did was a surprise.  He disrobed.  Not literally, though that would have definitely made a statement.  He disrobed and showed me the emotional pain that he had tried so hard to hide, thinking it was what a man should do.  In that moment, I knew this was big.  He was disrobing emotionally and it couldn't be taken with a grain of salt.  My Higher Being knew it.   

I couldn't leave him out there by himself.  So I put my anger to the side and allowed my love and friendship to take center stage.  What a sacred moment!  It went beyond anything we had ever experienced before.  It was pure.  It was real.  It was transforming.  We've shared sacred spaces before but this one surpassed them all.   It was the ultimate test of trust. 

As we sat on the sofa and reflected on that.  Then recalled other moments of being so in sync that we said the same thing, the same way, at the same time, it served as even more evidence that our love was bigger than us.  It's a love where we have to check our ego at the door, our predilections, our roles, our insecurities at the door.  And yes, even our accommodating natures.  It's a love that requires that we take off our shoes for the ground we are standing on is holy ground.  Never, ever have I had this with a man. 

"This is why I can't let this love go," he said conveying his full understanding of what I was describing.  And for the first time, I--the Higher Me, of course--truly heard him.  It is not merely a love that says, "You get me."  It's not even a love that says, "You see me."  It's a love that says, "You are me."  It's like me sitting across from me in another form. 

That's what makes it spiritual.  That Love has its own agenda.  We are not in control of it.  There is no exit door.  We couldn't stop it if we tried.  I could move to another side of the world but that love would still exist.  Even if our ability to stroke the other's ego had to surrender to the limitations of growing old, there is a spiritual bond between us that is unbreakable.  We are forever changed.  If he were in trouble, I'd have to come running.  It wouldn't matter what anybody else thought or who else I was dating, it would be harder to stay away than it would be to go.  I would have to be there. 

Even if we broke up and moved beyond the pain of the break up, he would still be the great love of my life.  He would still be the man who loves me and understoods me like no other.  He would still be the man I'd trust with my life.  He would still be the best man I've ever known.  He would still be someone that would tap into what's real and true and pure inside of me.  He would still rally that Higher Love that comes from my Higher Self.  It would be beyond our ability to legislate it or control it.  It would be a magnet with a pull that can't be denied.   

With this heightened awareness, I know that we are already married.  The large shoes already are there, waiting for us to fill them as we continue to grow together.  Doesn't matter what it looks like or the hurdles that we have to overcome now, nothing can stop it.  It's just a matter of time.  Our roles, our responsibilities, our human frailties, our struggles invariably will conform to this Love.

The wedding is just as essential.  Certainly, it is a formality that makes things legal in the eyes of the law.  It is also a public declaration and celebration of the love that we've cultivated and nurtured behind the scenes.  Nevertheless, by all extents and purposes, we are already married.  Our hearts are married.  All this other stuff is window dressing.  Many spend their lives trying to override their spirit.  But when you live a life of authenticity, you cannot override it.  Who we truly are when all of the other is taken away is what has to find itself in another in order for the marriage to be indissoluble.  It was already determined by our Creator.  "You are a part of me," my fiancé summed it up.  "You are just as much a part of me as my liver, as my heart.  That's why there is no out for me."  That's what the fight is about.  It's not fighting each other.  It's fighting for each other. 

Wedding Daze

I can't wait to marry my dear Robert.  Wedding planning though, ugh!!!  Sometimes God will send angels in the form of friends to whisk you away from everything and say, "C'mon, let's go to this local bridal expo."  Didn't know I would have so much fun. For me, though, it wasn't all the beautiful flowers, jewelry and table decors that made me feel excited.  It was friends.  Without them, it would have been crowds and vendors competing for my business.  With them, it was possibilities, moments shared and laughter.

Left to right:  Diane, me and Nicole

My friend, Diane, and I talked more about it afterwards.  I had taken off my dress and put on my t-shirt and comfy pajama bottoms, all snuggly on the sofa.  I shared with her what I'm looking forward to.  I look forward to the organic way that this wedding unfolds.  The authenticity of it all.  What came immediately to mind was my sister's idea of having a tree with lights only on it.  Rather than having ornaments, I'd provide parchment paper with ribbon where guests could get up at any moment during the ceremony and write inspired thoughts and blessings on the paper, then tie them to the tree.  Later, we could read what people wrote and revel in the power of their words. 

A ceremony as unique as we are, that's what makes me joyful.  Not the traditional vows, but a commitment nonetheless, that resonates with the two of us. 

Honestly, all the bling-bling is good and I'm no different than the next bride.  If someone wanted to give me a limo ride or pay for my wedding cake, I wouldn't refuse it.  If I won an elegant reception package at a bridal expo or event, I would send invitations and enjoy all that came with it.  I'm all about celebrating; notwithstanding, at this age and stage of my life, I know that all of that is just frosting.  The cake is the marriage.  It's the substance. The level of our commitment to a life together is what's most important.  It is what happens when everybody has returned to their homes and we're left with a relationship that must be nurtured and attended to as we would a baby brought home from the hospital. 

Commercialized, no, I don't want that.  I don't want the pomp.  I want to remember fondly the love, warm and connection.  I want those invited to have an experience that's so spiritual that it makes them aspire for more out of themselves.  That's the vision that makes me excited. 

No stress.  No fuss.  Just us!

They're Here!

Taking some time off from introspective thinking, we received our "save the date" magnets in the mail.  Had to share!

It was Robert's idea.  Pretty cool, huh?  Even though we're still having a private ceremony, our family and close friends can keep this date in mind.  Yippee!!!!
 

His Bark Versus His Bite

I hope that my blogs aren't repetitive.  If they are, charge it to my head not my heart.

To a woman who grew up with love and acceptance, a man's bark is of no consequence.  She remembers the love that she received from her dad or significant male figure.  When his voice got that deep bass tone in it, she learned that it brought order and reminded her that she was protected.  Not in my case.  Though I am a self-proclaimed daddy's girl, I didn't grow up with that healthy distinction.  My dad was a very black and white thinker and didn't know how to be the gray that his daughters needed.  He was very critical.  He was.  He always fussed about something or another.  It's odd that a man with such a big heart could be so testy but he was.  When I was a little girl of about 3 or 4, I welcomed his big voice.  "Alice Lee!," he'd yell.  I would stop whatever I was doing, run and jump in his arms.  Sadly, something shifted.  My dad became a complainer and super critical. 

Because of that, his bark became a one size fits all.  Painful!!  I became conditioned to feel threatened whenever I heard that sound.  In normal households, a man's voice is not one size.  Though he is direct and declares the direction, he is not being hurtful.  Men don't mix words.  They don't weigh out what they are going to say most times.  It just comes up and out.  My Robert is no different.  Though he prides himself on being diplomatic - and is for the most part - when he is fixing or declaring, he is direct.

"I've got to learn what his barks mean," I said to the counselor.  Using a dog as a metaphor, I further analyzed.  Dogs bark.  Not every bark means I should jump on a table and call for help.  Though this is true to my mind, my emotions don't know the difference.  

In usual fashion, my fiancé rose to the occasion.  In our private discussion after the session, he explained how he is feeling and what he needs at the time.  He admitted that he feels anxious when he, "the fixer," is caught off guard.  If he feels pressured to do something he hasn't thought through, he reacts.  Usually, he gets up and starts pacing as he talks.  His talking has a sound of alarm.  I can't explain the actual decibel.  All I know is it feels intimidating.  What he explained was if he has time to process things, he gets back to okay.  What I learned was that it is not personal.  It is not even directed at me.

We both recognize our anxiety triggers.  Even more significant, we both recognize how we calm each other.  Though I confessed that my responses were  more about me than him, we did see the soothing quality of it.  I acknowledge his body language and talk about it in a nonthreatening way.  Emotionally, it was a learned way to calm the situation so I can run to safety.  I no longer needed to run though because his willing spirit assured me of safety.  I learned that even when he's barking, he isn't hurtful or dismissive.  He remains open to me.  That soothes me!  How cool!  We are building trust.  We are becoming each other's safe place. 

You see, for some couples, a hearty argument is healthy.  They are expressive and okay with it.  They can banter without it causing hurt feelings.  He and I don't do it that way.  It's not to say that we won't eventually, but for now, we are having to build trust.  My ear is being trained to hear things more broadly.

As our counselor encouraged, "You have the opportunity to create your own language."  It's not easy to learn a new language.  It comes with practice.  Practical to us, I'm learning to feel the discomfort while at the same time staying open to the teacher. 

Loosing Old Baggage

To me, what makes this marriage different from the first two is not just rearranging and repacking old baggage, but donating those old suitcases full of stuff to The Salvation Army.  Be it marriages or past relationships, we take old stuff into new situations.  It's not that we're conscious of it.  It's just what happens when we don't heal and create something different.  We convince ourselves that just because the hurt has subsided and we're ready to get on with our lives that we're okay.  We're not.

I'm not alone in this.  Every day or every other day, I talk to, hear about or read about yet another person checking themselves in the Relationship Insanity Hospital.  Insanity, it is.  When we have the same relationship rituals with different people or when we disregard our past relationship trajectory in hopes that someone else's exception will be our own, it is insanity to think we'll have a different result.  I should have been the first to be checked into Intensive Care, I tell you!  To think that number something-or-other unavailable man would be changed into an available one just because I wanted him to was my disorder.  As a result, I took myself into one situation after another with the hopes that this one would be different.  Insanity!!!

What makes this one different is my asking for what I want does not make him want to skedaddle. 

I realize that, in my past relationships, I had become quite a manipulator.  No, not consciously, but as part of my defense against being hurt.  I tried to act as if I didn't want or need something if I really, really liked the man.  And even if I said that I needed more, I allowed less, rationalizing that I needed to change, not him. 

At our last premarital session with our counselor, we talked about the power of focus.  She shared an example of one of her children getting sick and the aha moment of it.  "You're manifesting what you focused on," she told her.  She explained how our talking about what we don't want is productive too.  "I'm going to get sick," we tell ourselves.  And what happens?  We do!  We tell our friends, "I don't want to get hurt," when they suggest that we start dating again.  And what generally happens?  We get hurt.  "Why not focus on what you do want," she reasoned. 

This made so much sense!  Both my fiancé and I had done the work before we even met each other.  We both sought to improve ourselves as relaters.  We admitted to ourselves that we lacked the skills needed for sustainable, healthy relationships.  Instead of focusing on what was wrong with the folks we were interested in, we saw that the common denominator in all the involvements was us.  What I've learned is just because you find that special someone does not mean that you can settle back into mediocrity.  As the relationship deepens, Life will always present another opportunity to surrender an article of clothing or trinket packed securely away in that secret compartment of your baggage. 

Yes, I'm getting married but that does not end it.  What we focus on will grow. 

What we fear will overtake.  What we brood over will manifest.  There is so much power in our focus.  For example, how we view a fight or disagreement will manifest that very thing.  If our focus is he always or she always --focus on negativity--that is what we will experience in our lives together.  But if we see this next step as an opportunity to grow, then growth in our relationship is what we'll experience.  "Winter never lasts always," said our counselor.  "Winter always changes into Spring.  Poison changes into Medicine."

Poison changes into Medicine?  That one got me.  I was flowing with the Winter changing into Spring, but I never ever thought that poison could do anything except kill.  What I believe is it's another way of saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."  I think I've lived long enough to know that I will be okay.  I will survive.  It's just what side of "okay" will I choose to be on.  The side of okay as a single entity or okay as a partner. 

When I first entered couples counseling, my truth was "I know how to leave a bad relationship. I just don't know how to stay in a good one."  Rather than making that the focus and regurgitating some aspect of that throughout our counseling sessions, my authenticity was provoked to consider a more powerful Truth.  A shift in focus, if you will.  "I'm in a fantastic relationship and now have the tools to manifest more of the same!"  Yes!!!!

 . 

Snuggly Folks

I had a lightbulb idea as I considered that our counselor was getting ready to move out of the country.  Though there is Skype and all, it won't be the same.  There is something in the energy that is created when we're all together.  Maybe that's why I had the idea of identifying couples we can be accountable to.  Hey, if King Arthur can have his Knights of the Roundtable, why can't Suzette and Robert have couples that comprise theirs.  In wise counsel there is safety.

We want to be around married couples who actually enjoy being married and go through difficulties with grace.  One of the most painful things is being around couples who complain about each other the whole time.  The constant drip of competitiveness for who's right makes me want to gnaw off my arm!!! 

We have identified four couples who we will be inviting to a dinner in the Spring.  It's not that there aren't more whom we admire, it's the fact that we aren't around them that much.  They have lives and connections with other people.  Nothing wrong with it.  I've learned to see those who not only respond when I reach out to them, but who initiate.   Those are the ones we'll be around more regularly.  Those are the folks who'll know us!  Besides, every couple isn't a good fit for every need.  Just as there are different friends who bring something unique to my life, there are married couples who might be great to go out with but who might not be available during difficult times in my marriage.

I love warm, snuggly folks and this group is the snuggliest!!!!

A New Kind of Submission

Submission--yuck, icky, poo--is the reaction you'll get from most of us 21st century, I-can-do-it-my-own-damn-self sisters.  I can't say why other women suck their teeth and roll their eyes even at the mention of that word, but I can tell you why I use to.  "Wives submit to your husbands," is what I heard the preachers bellow out on a Sunday morning, scouring across the congregation at the women sitting in the pews while all the men yelled a hearty, "Amen!"  Some even pointed to the scripture of Eve eating the apple and bringing a curse on herself and her husband as evidence that a man knows better.  It never set well with me.  Submission was another word for parent.  You ceased to have your own mind, your own will, your own dreams.  Everything that you worked hard for, strived for, attained had to be surrendered just because, as a woman, you were suppose to submit to your man.  That definition or belief still doesn't work for me.  (Sidebar:  And if we want to get technical, God didn't curse the man or the woman, he cursed the ground, okay?)  Even my dad said of my mom that if it weren't for her, we would not have what we have.  He retaliated at first; but over the years, he came to respect my mom's insights.  I'm sure many a family can point to the courage, strength and tenacity of Big Momma or their mother in the same way. 

Nevertheless, the term submission always seems to be one sided.  Very few mention that a verse or two before it says "submit one to another."  Okay, okay, I'll come off my soap box.  I think you get my point.  Premarital counseling has surprisingly brought me to a higher understanding of what submission is.  As a result, I've come to attach a new meaning to it.  This kind of submission comes from an open heart and a willing spirit. 

My foot was down.  Down really hard when it came to my fiancé's dog.  I had my reasons for not wanting him to set foot near my house.  Ours had been a contentious relationship.  As soon as I'd get comfortable around him, something will set him off and before I knew it he was barking and snarling at me.  Completely baffled and intimidated, I lost my nerve.  To me, I'd subjected myself to threat time and time again and was being asked to do it one more time.  Not gonna happen!  Truth be told, I resented the fact that I was the one being asked to make the sacrifices while everyone else continued to live their lives the very same.  Don't all you dog lovers out there clobber me.  I'm just telling you my experience of it. 

Though I grew up with as many dogs as my dad had cars in the yard, I have no experience with any of our dogs behaving this way.  While hanging clothes on the clothesline, I hated being knocked down by our muscular police dog who was happy to see me.  I hated being scratched when our dogs wanted to play.  But I never felt threatened by any of our dogs.  We had all kinds too.  German police dog, cocker spaniel, just to name a couple.  If they growled, I never feared it was at me.  This is my first experience with a dog who licked my toes one minute and barked like I stole something the very next.

But like the Grinch, something happened to make my heart grow.  I stopped looking at me and took a deep look into my fiancé's soul.  Our counselor called  it heart versus habit.  Heart is when something is tied to who you are and if you can't do it or have it, it is wounding.  Habit is something that you've become accustomed to but can be changed.  When I truly looked at my fiancé, I saw that this attachment to his dog was a heart thing.  I don't understand it.  I probably never will.  I don't share it.  I probably never will.  Still, just as sure as breathing, this awareness came.  "You wanted someone who respects your heart.  If you love him, you'll respect his heart,"it said.  Lightbulb:  my fiancé's heart mattered too. 

Those who are in happy relationships understand this.  Those of us who have yearned for happy relationships, however, don't.  Many times, in our misguided attempts to be a good woman or showing our love, we've concessions for men who have not done the same.  We've felt taken for granted and like our needs don't matter.  This makes us have a wall up though we so deeply want to experience true love.  When you've been hurt, you make everything about you.  When you have insecurities, you make everything about you.  We say we don't but we do.  "I gave him my phone number.  He didn't call.  Inconsiderate Jerk!"  "He didn't open the car door for me.  Off with his head!"  "How dare he not do what I want.  I'm the prize!"  We sometimes forget that it takes a prize to recognize a prize.  Hence, I had to change this "habit." of making everything about me.  It wasn't all about him proving his love.  He already had.  It wasn't about me having my way.  Why should marrying me mean he's got to give up everything attached to his heart?  That's when my heart opened.

I then became willing to look at ways to make room.  I asked if he would have a problem with the dog being outside.  He said, "No."  This opened up discussion about fencing the yard so the dog could  have space to run and play.  We talked about how a sunroom off the dining room (that could also serve as his man cave..lol) could be a place for the dog when the weather is inclement.  This way, everybody would get something from this that we could all get excited about.  Maybe I could feed him (from behind the fence at first).  That way, he could associate me with something tied to his survival.  I am willing to try.  

We talked about boundaries that are necessary for my heart to be respected as well.  You see, I'm a free spirit.  Restraints and constructs kill my creativity and vitality.  My intimate connections are with family and friends and involvements flow out of that.  How can we protect that?  Also, there is the fact that I raised a son and he's left home.  I like the freedom of my empty nest.  I've grown into that freedom and found my purpose.  I don't want to feel unsafe in my home.  I don't want people to feel unsafe in my home.  I don't want folks to have to call first and say, "Suzette, I want to come over, but I'm afraid of your dog."  That would block me from what nurtures me.   

Hence, the new kind of submission.  My definition.  Submission is making room for and protecting the heart of another.  It's respecting the way another is wired.  You don't have to feel the same way about it.  You don't have to understand why.  You just have to see deeply into what matters to the  wholeness of the other person. 

My fiancé is a nurturer.  He is.  He is a tinkerer.  He takes care of.  This is who he is.  He's happiest when everyone important to him is okay.  He is a protector.  He is a place of warmth and love.  He needs all of us.  He needs his mom, his family, his dog and me.  He is autonomous in an introverted kind of way.  .  We are both the go-to for our family.  We both hate feeling boxed in or coerced.  We both know how to be okay with only ourselves to play with.  Me, with writing.  Him, with tinkering.  In many ways, we are the same, we just go about it differently.  He's quiet and methodical.  I'm animated and inspired.  To ask either of us to part with what brings us joy would be devastating.  It's what I love about him.  It's what he loves about me.  Neither of us can legislate it.  We can't control it.  This is what we can do though.  We can protect it.  We can make room for it.

To me, that is what submission truly means. 

What's Love Got to Do With It? Everything!

Aromatic candles.  Roaring fire.  Bottle of wine.  Dozens of roses.  Who wouldn't fall in love with a guy who holds your hand and pays attention to such detail.  He opens the car door.  He makes you feel like you're the most special woman in the world.  He is attentive.  He is caring.  He's your soul mate, your best friend, until....

Until your first argument.  Until he loses his job.  Until she opens the door with her hair wrapped, her scruffy slippers and flannel pajama bottoms.  Until she makes more money.  Until you don't talk for hours on end as you did in the beginning and he seems more interested in sports events on television than how your day was. 

What's love got to do with it?  Everything.  True love isn't merely falling in love with what a person does to you or for you.  Certainly, it's part of the initial attraction.  It's important that you enjoy the company of a man or a woman.  He is attentive.  She is supportive.  How you both feel is very important.  The stars in the eyes, the heart skipping a beat, the long talks are all a vital part of attraction.  It's a heart to selflessness however that builds a marriage.  When you stop thinking only of yourself and your needs and put the other person's well-being in the forefront, you are ready to experience true love. 

This isn't just on the part of the man.  Maybe you know that and if so I am so happy that you do.  But on a heart level, I didn't know that.  I felt like everything had to cater to me, had to be about me and if it wasn't...deuces!  His value of me was always the question.  You see, my triggers are if I feel neglected, feel minimized or feel condescended.  In my heart and in my conversations with my girlfriends, I was conflicted.  Despite his efforts to assure me, I still questioned his intentions.  I felt intimidated by anything that I felt got more of his attention or his loyalty than me.  I know I am not the only woman who is afraid to trust.  Marriage however requires it.

If you cannot trust that the man you are about to marry isn't only enamored with your lips or your thighs, marriage will be difficult.  It requires more.  Today was a day that I realized something that I had not before.  If I haven't mentioned it before, I am deathly afraid of his dog.  We tried earlier in our relationship to resolve the situation and even brought in a trainer to help.  His bark, his growl, my not being able to figure out what set him off time and time again just drained the energy out of me.  I think I imploded so much that my insides got raw. 

Up until today, my feelings were all I would consider.  I told my sister, "That dog ain't coming here!  I won't be afraid in my own house.  I don't care what he does or how he has to resolve this, but my foot is down."  My sister listened intently and said simply, "He loves you.  You'll work it out."  In my fear space, I made his love for me contingent on how he handled this.  This morning brought a change.  I looked into my fiancé's eyes and looked into his soul.  There is something that his dog brings to his life that he needs.  I don't know why.  I don't have to know why.  Marriage to me shouldn't rob him of happiness.  Yes, he loves me.  But I cannot be everything in his life.  I want to share his life not rob him of it. 

There are couples facing tragedy.  Life can be difficult sometimes.  A scary doctor's report, financial challenges, an infidelity and other storms can drive a wedge between lovers.  One person can be fighting for the marriage while the other backs up.  Marriage ain't no joke.  Folks stay committed to the wrong thing and leave the right thing.  I don't want to be one of those people. 

I don't want to see my future husband as an opportunity to get my needs met without any consideration for what he needs.  Life is teaching me that a foundation of friendship is critical.  Friends have regard for one another.  Friends want the best for one another.  I don't know what the resolution is about my fiancé's dog.  I do know that I choose to be his friend.  I choose to be his supporter.  I choose to stop trying to protect myself and trust in the integrity of his heart.  He's my husband-to-be and I trust that he will keep me safe.  I choose Love. 

 

A Lesson in Strength Training

Our second session was GREAT!  With laptop in hand, we were ready to discuss the things we had listed as opportunities to build a great marriage.  Funny, we didn't even think about sex!  Maybe there's some truth to what Dr. Phil says.  "If you have a good sex life, sex counts about 5%.  But if you don't have a good sex life, it's 95% in importance."  Now, he didn't say it exactly like that, but that's the gist of it. 

I gotta tell you.  Our counselor is da bomb dot com!!!!  Her wisdom just confounds me.  It's not just the stuff that makes you get excited.  It's that kind of wisdom that soaks through your clothes and washes your spirit.  I swear I want to take notes.  This time was no different.  She takes what we bring her - no matter how unflattering -  and gives it back to us full of hope and promise.  So different.  Many times counselors speak to you as if you don't know anything and they have to make sure they point it out to you.  She doesn't.  She reveals the gold in our struggle and presents it to us, much to our amazement and joy.   

One such piece of wisdom was we aren't suppose to become one.  I can see your mouth dropping in surprise.  Mine did too.  That's the utopia of a good marriage, right?  She clarified.  "You will become of one mind or move towards one goal but you are still two different people."  It is what is uniquely different that evokes the best self out of the other.  She pointed to Rob getting down on one knee in a crowded restaurant and proposing.  "You know where that came from, don't you?," she asked.  "Suzette!  Her confidence is rubbing off on you."  We laughed but there was some truth to it. 

The more we challenge the other to move beyond limiting beliefs and behaviors, the more liberated we become.  It's like training for a marathon.  It hurts to get in shape.  Changing your diet, working out, and increasing the miles you run is grueling.  Still, you get up early and do whatever you have to do to get in marathon-running shape.  The big day comes.  Like others, you stand in starting position waiting for the signal to start.  As you run, you remember what you've learned.  You hydrate.  You pace yourself.  You breathe as you have been conditioned to.  When you feel like you can't go on, you remember what your trainer told you.  Others pass by you, but you don't get alarmed.  You remind yourself that it's a marathon and the goal is to finish the race.  You see the finish line up ahead.  You heart is about beat out of your chest.  Your head is pounding.  Perspiration is running down your face.  Your legs feel like rubber yet you keep going.  Once you cross that finish line, it's all worth it.  So it is with marriage. 

A great marriage is the goal of all that we are doing.  Some areas are quite a strain and don't feel good to explore, but we strengthen our core through resistance.  "Strength training tears your muscles down to rebuild them much stronger than before."  She suggested that if we see challenges as growth, then our life together will be growth and celebration.  Even the most difficult of circumstances is an opportunity to grow.  To grow more as a person.  To grow more as a couple.  That's worth celebrating!

At the conclusion of the session, I asked if our counselor had gotten my email.  I had asked her about officiating the wedding.  To our happiness, she consented!  Yay!  We don't want a traditional wedding ceremony.  We want something that represents us and our journey.  She is the perfect person!  This only reinforces what my heart knows.  If you plan for the marriage, the wedding will take care of itself. 

I Wanna See You Be Brave

One of my favorite pass times is watching television.  Not just anything and everything, but I do find certain talk shows intriguing.  Today, it was The View.  What caught my eye immediately was that Fantasia Barrino was cohosting.  That did it.  I was so tuned in.  You know how it goes.  You watch for a minute, run downstairs to get a drink, watch some more, run downstairs and get some food.  It was that kind of watching.  Then Jenny McCarthy introduced Sara Bareilles, who is nominated for two Grammy awards.  She sang her song that has become the anthem for so many.  I had to hunt for the words.  It wasn't hard.  As soon as I typed in the words brave and lyrics, her song was the first to come up. 

The song makes a case for all those who for whatever reason or another have not stood in their truth.  Those who have been intimidated and have shirked back from their moment. 

When I first heard the words "I want to see you be brave," I thought of somebody else.  I thought about areas in my fiancé that I wanted to see bravery in.  I chuckle when I think of that.  It's funny how we think we can see what somebody else needs to do so clearly from our own cowered position.  God knows, Life will check you if you let it!  And I had been checked.  The Wise Voice inside of me tapped me on the shoulder and said, "I want to see you be brave."

To anyone out there who unplugs and runs at the first sign of trouble, Life is speaking to all of us.  What made my fiancé different from me is he felt the fear but wasn't paralyzed by it.  Here's something I've been taught about men by men.  A man does not make a decision based on emotion.  He thinks it through and if it makes sense to him, he does it.  Me?  I feel first and then resort to reasoning to calm myself down so I can make a conscious decision.  There comes a time when you can no longer let the ghosts of your past stare you up and down, rattle in front of you and then shout, "Boo!"  Yes, I have been married twice.  Yes, I was gullible, ignorant and the Queen of magical thinking--both times.   When you've been wrong before, your memory that is often unforgiving will throw it up in your face.  Nobody else has to.  You do a number on your own self. 

This blog is not about giving myself a pass because of what I have experienced.  It is not to justify intimidation.  It's about being honest about the things that keep us up at night. It's about not hiding the fact that many of us struggle with one question:  Am I enough?  The way you answer is not by trying to prove your worthiness.  It is by standing up for yourself.  Let me clarify.  It's not that the bullied becomes the bully.  Rather, the bullied decides that whether he gets beat up or not, he's not going to run this time.  The worthiness is in being brave.  The worthiness is standing for you as you. 

Had I just balled up in a corner in the days, months and years since April 4, 2003--the day my divorce was final--I would only have my history of shame, blame and defeat.  We have to create a new history. 

Using a baseball game to demonstrate, it's when you don't ignore that you've struck out.  More times than not, you've swung hard but missed the ball.  Rather than damning yourself for it, you get somebody to teach you how to swing.  Imagine the look on the face of the opposing team when they see you, the Strike Out King, come up to bat.  They laugh.  They jeer.  They mock.  Just the same, you listen to your coach.  You hold that bat steady, keep your eye on the ball, and when your coach yells, "Swing!," you swing.  You might miss the first one, but you stand your ground.  You might miss the second one, but your coach's voice fades and your inner voice talks to you. "You can do this," it says. "Focus.  Steady your feet.  Hold that bat up."   The pitcher tosses the ball.  Your eyes track that ball like a homing device.  You hit the ball - whack!  It goes so far out of the park that everybody's mouth drops in surprise while you run.  Trust me, when that happens, it turns even the staunchest critic into a believer.  In case you're wondering who that critic is?  It's you.

It's not how you feel while doing it.  You might be quaking so badly that you hear your own knees knocking.  What matters is that you, the real you, stands up. 

When I listened closer to that Wise Voice, I became aware of something.  It wasn't talking to a woman shaking in her boots.  Life was excited.  "I want to see you be brave."  Life had seen me be brave before.  It wanted to marvel at me once again. 

You Gotta Decide

At our first counseling session, I confessed to fears that taunted me right after my boyfriend proposed.  One of which was the fear that he would leave me.  As this was met with assurances from my fiancé and our counselor who had counseled us earlier in our relationship, I explained where those fears came from.  We were talking about a wedding date and my fiancé talked about one of the things that had to be worked out before we got married.  To those listening, I'm sure they didn't hear what I heard in the way I heard it.  In fact, they didn't seem bothered at all.  I, on the other hand, was shaken by it.  My fear whispered in my ear, "See, he is back peddling.  He doesn't truly want to marry you." 

Both my fiancé and counselor sat patiently as I told them about my struggle with abandonment issues.  I was so spooked that I could not even think.  I recalled having a dad that was in the home: still, I found him to be absent emotionally.  If I didn't perform as he and my mom thought I should, I was wrong.  I got a whipping or worst, my dad would fuss at me.  "I felt like someone was pulling my skin off without anesthesia," I explained.   

I've read so many books that describe how people with abandonment issues seek to leave before they are left.  It's called fight or flight.  What was given to us as a instinctive way of surviving was not meant to be the response to everything, only to perceived danger.  For those of us who fear abandonment, just the idea or thought of being left is enough reason to defect.  Sadly, our efforts to protect ourselves can pervert something harmless.  "It's as if you have a warped sensitivity," our counselor clarified.  That's exactly what it was.  Men have that sound of authority to their voices.  It brings order.  It commands attention.  It is a gift.  Though my responses were real, I can no longer let the little girl decide.  It was time for the adult woman to stand up.  This she knows.  She can teach those she loves to leave her by creating such discomfort in the relationship that they have to leave to save themselves.  It's a self fulfilling prophesy.

"I am not afraid that he'll leave me physically," I clarified.  "I'm afraid that he'll abandonment me emotionally."  "I'm scared too," my Robert admitted.  "I'm afraid that you're going to leave me."  That surprised me.  I had never considered that he was scared too. 

"In order for you to build a solid marriage, you both have to decide right here and now that you won't leave one another," said our counselor.  That was my moment of truth.  No fantasy, no escape from a life of loneliness, no psyching myself up, none of that could make this decision.  Again, it was time for the grown up to decide.   I knew that unless I did that, it was a waste of time to continue.  As great a counselor as she was, counseling alone was not enough.  Without a sober commitment, there was no need to continue.  I had to resolve for once and for all what side of the street I was going to stand on. 

It didn't take tossing and turning all night long or a long hard honest conversation with myself about why I said "yes" at the marriage proposal.  As I sat and breathed in the moment, I felt my insides release.  "You don't need this," my Inner Wisdom said, informing my consciousness what my spirit knew.  I didn't need to police this side of the street anymore.  Robert was not like the other men I had known before. 

I felt my soul open.  I was sitting beside the man whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  He was my friend.  He was my lover.  He was my partner.  I didn't have to shield myself.  I was patting the leg of the man I love.  Our shortcomings, our temperaments, our history, what might happen, none of it was enough to change that.  There's the truth and then there is the bigger Truth with a capital T.  The Truth was he wasn't the one feeling off balance.  It was me.  When you are off balance, you try to stabilize yourself.  As Ketut from the book, Eat Pray Love, said to Liz (or was it the movie?), "to lose your balance in life is to find your balance in love. (or something like that...lol)." 

He put a ring on it!

On a crisp night at our favorite restaurant, Beyu Caffe in Durham, North Carolina, at my birthday celebration, my boyfriend got down on one knee and proposed.  I didn't see it coming!   Had I believed the statistics, I wouldn't have been in the right space for this to happen.  After all, what is the likelihood that two people--50 something years of age--would find true love?  Yet, I'm here to tell you that is exactly what happened. 

Makes me chuckle to myself when I think about the reporters, talk show hosts and singles of all ages that say there are 10 women to 1 man and that it is next to impossible for a woman past 40 years of age to get married--especially a Black woman.  I don't doubt that the stats exist.  What I believe however is the numbers don't dictate my destiny. 

My mantra was this. "I don't need everybody, just the right somebody."   Besides, I can say irrefutably that in the Research Triangle Park area, folks are getting married in their 40's and after years of marriage, are still just as enamored with their spouses!  A cakewalk, it's not.  My friend Natalie and I talked about what the journey has been for us at our last girlfriend coffee date.  We worked hard to get here.  We didn't just stumble blindly on our men!  We opened our hearts and our minds.  We got real with ourselves about ourselves. More than having a man for the sake of having one, something inside of us required that we become better women. 

"Integrity," Natalie would say as she refused to stuff down her pain after her heart got broken.  I had never seen anyone so intentional or courageous.  I watched her feel without apology or excuse.  I learned a lot by watching her. 

This blog is not to feed romantic fantasies about finding love.  When the love is real, there is no need for fantasies.  It is about another level of becoming.  An emergence.  Between now and December 27, 2014, I'll chronicle the high's, the low's and the in-betweens.  Gone is the belief that I have to be perfect; for marriages aren't made of perfect people.  They are made of imperfect people who choose to be perfected in loving each other.   My beloved Robert and I agreed on this the very next day after his proposal. "Baby," I said to him.  "Let's put our energies into planning the marriage.  If we do that, planning the wedding will take care of itself."

So many times, I heard Dr. Phil ask couples if they had considered parenting, finances, how to handle conflicts, and other aspects of the marital relationship.   Twice divorced, this I know.  Great marriages don't just happen.  They are intentioned from the beginning.  This blog is going to be honest.  I'm not going to sugar coat my journey to the altar.  With my history, I would be remiss to not take this seriously.   The first times around, I got married with the erroneous belief that marriage in and of itself was the cure for all my soul's ills.  I was so ignorant.  I really was.  I lived with a smoldering loneliness and longing.  Marriage was my answer.  "I know how to leave a bad relationship," I confessed to our premarital counselor.  "But don't know how to be in a good one."

So follow me as I learn how to be a healthy partner.  Feel free to comment.  Feel free to ask questions.  I don't claim to be an expert.  I don't even want to be.  I just want to be a willing participant in this rites of passage to the altar.