The Way It's Supposed to Be ...

We've been talking a lot about expectations and the illusions we all hold or held in regard to relationships, but we haven't been doing very much in the way of exploring the best possible reality of relationships. We all know what we thought it would be that isn't true. But what about what we have that's right; that one thing that seems to be the way it's supposed to be?

I've been married for nine years, and frankly, things have not gone as planned. We are not at all where I thought we'd be nine years ago, and most things about my marriage and about being married in general are substantially different than what I expected. Yet oddly, the one part of the "fairy tale" I found most difficult to believe in has been the one that (so far) is true; namely, being on the receiving end of unconditional love.

Sometimes I'm a bitch on wheels, yet my husband loves me anyway. Sometimes I'm pushy and loud and overly intellectual, sometimes I nag, frequently I'm impossibly disorganized and messy and can't mop a floor to save my life. Sometimes I get completely frustrated with simple things and make mountains out of molehills. Sometimes I'm insecure, and sometimes I'm dreadfully critical, and sometimes I behave like a diva. But he still loves me, even when I don't believe that he does. And he keeps loving me. And it's been like this for 11 years.

I always thought (now there's a phrase that has become our classic watchword, yes?) that for me, a permanent partnership would be an exercise in tough love. After all, nobody could just put up with all my shit, so there would likely be verbal smack-downs and corrections and negotiations for respect and position and all that stuff. Right? Because I'm difficult, high-maintenance, strong-willed ... and somebody would have to wring all that out of me in order to get along. But instead, it's been all acceptance and appreciation and just enduring love, even when things weren't so great, even when I was on my worst behavior.

It's both a great feeling and a huge responsibility.

Without my partner providing the corrections and negotiations to make me a better person, an easier to get-along-with person, guess who winds up responsible for that? If I don't like me, guess whose job it is to fix me?

But the truly excellent thing here is that I have no reason to weigh myself against anyone else's expectations, no cause to worry that I'm not somehow "perfect enough." My hubby loves me like I am. He'll love me if I stay this way forever. And if I change, he'll love me that way too.

Update: If anyone is wondering, we are coming up on two weeks post-stroke. Mike's home from the hospital and doing well; his primary vision problems have largely resolved and his peripheral vision is slowly returning, improving a little every day. His eyes still get tired quickly and he's had a few odd "panic attack" type moments worrying about what he can see and when he'll be back to completely normal--a bit premature, in my humble opinion. But his blood pressure appears to be responding well to his medication, and he's basically already frightfully bored with sitting around at home watching the cats play and channel-surfing the cultural abyss that is daytime TV. (Except for Montel; I secretly suspect he gets a big charge out of Montel.)

So. What in your relationship or singlehood is the way it's supposed to be? Note, and discuss.

—'til next time,
E. Marie