Finding my way to marriage was not a straightforward path. It took seven years of navigating uncertainty before we got engaged. Nine years later, we walked down a path strewn with rose petals to say our vows. The journey to that moment was anything but simple. After nearly 13 years together, I won’t pretend that our love story resembles a fairy tale. It took time and perseverance. Behind a man who was unsure of his desires was a woman who had a clear vision of what she wanted.
My dreams included a loving marriage, a cozy home, and perhaps a baby—maybe even a dog one day. Today, I strive for a better life for our child, far removed from the “crack alley” across the street. Wanting a brighter future for our family may seem straightforward, but for us, nothing has ever been simple. Our love is fervent, and our disagreements are equally passionate. Every decision we make is infused with emotion; we are anything but lacking in passion.
When people glance at our wedding photos, they might easily conclude that we were always happy. In one image, I’m kissing my husband, enveloped in tulle and wearing a champagne-colored wedding dress—it’s easy to assume we were blissful. And indeed, we were on that day. Right after the officiant declared us husband and wife, I exclaimed a loud, “Thank you!” to the congregation, overwhelmed with gratitude and joy.
However, behind those joyful snapshots lies a different story. The blood, sweat, tears, and even harsh words that led us to that church on a sweltering July evening are not visible in those images. I won’t sugarcoat it; my marriage, like motherhood, requires ongoing effort and commitment.
There have been moments when one of us felt like giving up. We’ve sat together, legs crossed, and said, “I hate you,” and we meant it. One of us has walked away at times, while the other let go. Yet, there’s one thing we’ve never done: we’ve never truly broken up for more than a day. We’ve always found our way back to each other.
During those times of anger, I learned to love him again and dedicated myself to nurturing my own well-being. I invested in my health and self-esteem, ultimately falling in love with who I am. I learned to embrace myself completely before I could fully love him. He, in turn, accepted me at my lowest when I struggled to accept myself.
After gaining a significant amount of weight, I found myself asking, “How could he possibly desire me?” I was deeply dissatisfied with my body. I loathed the spare tire around my midsection and the stretch marks that marked my skin. But he looked beyond the physical and saw the person within.
He loved me through my struggles, including my battles with addiction, when I forgot to pick him up in the rain or when I acted out in anger after a night of drinking. Through it all, he remained steadfast and chose to start a family with me. I’ve lived many versions of myself, and through them all, he continued to love me.
His unwavering support helped me become a mother—the person I always wanted to be. People may see the smiles in our social media posts, but they don’t witness the struggles beneath the surface.
Being his girlfriend, becoming his wife, and now raising our child have been parts of a journey filled with hard work and commitment, surviving challenges that could have pulled us apart. Today, as we play with our child, I snuggle close to him, and I thank the universe for our resilience.
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In summary, our relationship is a testament to love’s endurance, filled with ups and downs, but ultimately driven by a commitment to each other and our family.