It’s
Valentine season. The world is awash in pink and red. Every other
commercial on the radio reminds men that they will die a horrible and
totally justified death if they do not purchase the suggested gifts.
Love.
Right now.
We
are terrible at love. We watch movies that are supposed to be
romantic that are really just series of misunderstandings and
character flaws organized for maximum drama. The average couple
featured in a romantic comedy would be split up before the end of the
credits. But somehow, all this angst and energy stand in for love.
We
focus so much on beginnings. The movie ends when the couple is
finally together. That was the obstacle, and from here on out things
will be fine. Just get to the declaration of love or the big wedding.
We
read articles where newlywed movie stars who are already two-thirds
through their marriages give advice.
We
focus on ends. We tell horror stories about divorce. We slather our
Facebook pages with heartwarming stories about devoted married
couples shuffling off this mortal coil hand in hand after a zillion
years of marriage.
But
the intervening years are a bit of a mystery.
There
are couples that we all think have it together. We may well be right.
I am pretty sure that if you looked at my friends’ Tracie and
Dean’s DNA it would be interlocking. My brother is after more
than 15 years of marriage unabashedly in awe of his amazing wife. I
know so many people that have truly wonderful marriages. It is what
we all aspire to.
Several
months ago, a friend confided that her marriage was not like other
marriages. Other people, she observed, were meant to be. Or they were
perfect for each other. Or they just are so obviously great together.
Her secret shame was that her marriage was hard.
They
are both good people trying to be good people. There is not abuse or
danger. But they just weren’t that in synch. They didn’t
finish each other’s sentences. They didn’t know what each
were thinking. They didn’t agree on a lot of things. She didn’t
understand his priorities. He didn’t understand her reactions.
She felt, she said, like her marriage was just a lot harder.
Maybe
it isn’t. Maybe all the couples that seem so together are
struggling too. Maybe it is a matter of timing. My own marriage has
been heavenly, horrible, dull, irredeemably broken, and just fine. We
are coming up on 23 years; we have had time to be a lot of things. So
it may matter when we look.
But
maybe some marriages really are a lot harder than others. And that is
ok. Maybe it’s time to start being proud of those marriages.
Maybe you aren’t a match made heaven. Be proud of blazing your
own trail.
I
am not saying that divorce is never ok. My parents divorced when I
was 18. I grew up with them as a married couple my whole child and
teen years. But I still can’t picture them together. My cousin
recently confessed the same thing. I have sisters who have had to
wisely move themselves and their children into better situations. I
am not saying that everyone ought to always stay no matter what.
I
am saying that a hard marriage is still a real marriage. It is still
an effort. It is still a family. You still have made and kept
promises. You are still making a history. You are still learning
about your self. And maybe you are learning the most about love.
Several
years ago an online friend remarked that she had tried to tell her
soon-to-be husband that she thought they were destined to be. It is a
lovely thought. It is the way we are raised to think about love and
marriage. There is “the one.” But her wise husband
disagreed. He said that they were not meant to be together. It wasn’t
foreordained or promised in the stars. They got to choose.
He
chose her. That was earth-shattering wisdom for me.
Maybe
you will love Valentine’s Day this year. Maybe, you are that
couple or maybe it is that moment in time. But even if you don’t,
take a minute to be grateful for all that you have built together. Be
proud of the struggle. Love the lessons you have learned. Be grateful
for the person all this experience is making you.
Your
marriage is also beautiful. You are also succeeding.
I am me. I live at my house with my husband and kids. Mostly because I have found that people
get really touchy if you try to live at their house. Even after you explain that their towels are
fluffier and none of the cheddar in their fridge is green.
I teach Relief Society and most of the sisters in the ward are still nice enough to come.