I think I've changed my mind today. People often brag about their lives, about loving their perfect lives. This used to drive me insane. Because no one is perfect- we all know that. But maybe, just maybe, they need to tell themselves that. It isn't about telling it to the world, but about reiterating it to themselves. Reassurance, validation, wishful thinking? Who cares, really. So, I changed my mind. I stepped off the soapbox and decided that I did not care. That I did not care what they had to tell themselves, or the rest of the world to get them through the day.
We all struggle.
We all have messes.
We all find ways to cope. Or we don't.
Sometimes people comment that my marriage is a perfect one. That our lives are just perfect.
Stop it, silly people.
Not sharing a fight does not mean it does not occur. Not sharing it does not mean that I am hiding it. It simply means just that one simple thing...
I did not fucking share it.
Do we fight? Oh my balls, we sure do. I scream, I cry, I have packed my clothes, fuck- I have packed his clothes. He has yelled, he has called me names, he has reached his limit. We have been hurtful and insulting and nasty. I have done things that made me almost lose him, and I have almost let him go. We clash. Inside of the 900 square feet of house that we live in, we fight.
But we also love.
And we love so much harder than we fight. We are way better lovers then we are fighters. Better friends than enemies, better companions, better off together. It's all passion. It's all our own.
So whatever someone tells themselves, or tells anyone else, is all that it ever is. Just words.
Not life. What we all have behind our doors and within our walls is the life we have. What everyone else has is an idea, a perspective, a notion.
For us, for all I share, the best and the worst of us are all our own, only for us.
We all struggle.
We all have messes.
We all find ways to cope. Or we don't.
Sometimes people comment that my marriage is a perfect one. That our lives are just perfect.
Stop it, silly people.
Not sharing a fight does not mean it does not occur. Not sharing it does not mean that I am hiding it. It simply means just that one simple thing...
I did not fucking share it.
Do we fight? Oh my balls, we sure do. I scream, I cry, I have packed my clothes, fuck- I have packed his clothes. He has yelled, he has called me names, he has reached his limit. We have been hurtful and insulting and nasty. I have done things that made me almost lose him, and I have almost let him go. We clash. Inside of the 900 square feet of house that we live in, we fight.
But we also love.
And we love so much harder than we fight. We are way better lovers then we are fighters. Better friends than enemies, better companions, better off together. It's all passion. It's all our own.
So whatever someone tells themselves, or tells anyone else, is all that it ever is. Just words.
Not life. What we all have behind our doors and within our walls is the life we have. What everyone else has is an idea, a perspective, a notion.
For us, for all I share, the best and the worst of us are all our own, only for us.
Love this Jen! So true! There is an element of privacy in intimate relationships that is so important. It's awesome when people can relate to your experience, but really the more intimate a relationship gets the less likely any outsider is to understand it. Every perspective another holds about you or your relationship is colored with their perspective so it can never be anything more than their view from the outside. I had someone casually mention how long term relationships can be comfortable! I giggled because in my experience they are anything but comfy! Ha! Two people who push each others buttons (good and bad) and express themselves more courageously in their relationship than anywhere else on earth, who also have totally different methods, patterns and needs. Yeah that's not always comfy, but it is so worth it. Beautiful blog!
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