I’ve realized that these little chapters of my relationship with Rob leading up to our marriage could, in theory, go on forever. While I’m sure some of you would totally love that, I admit that the task seems overwhelming and daunting. Maybe at some point I’ll revisit the day I decided that I should be the one to change countries, or the day I was almost not let into the country, or the anxiety attack I gave myself over the prospect of telling his family that we were getting married.
But today I’m just going to write about a theme I tried to make apparent all the way through the series and give you the reason I titled it the way that I did…(in case you hadn’t pieced it together…and that’s okay, not everyone thinks like me.)
Before I turned 18, I never thought that much of myself. Ever. When others thought highly of me, I always questioned their motives. I couldn’t understand how anybody could possibly like somebody like me if I didn’t even like myself. I was goofy and awkward, inarticulate, unattractive and my concept of my self worth was constantly in the shitter. But when I was at home, alone, I would lay in bed and imagine myself an ugly duckling. As cheesy as it sounds, I was waiting for the day I would wake up a swan. One day I realized, that wasn’t going to just happen overnight. I had to learn how to love myself. If I couldn’t even love myself, how could I expect others to love me? A few things clicked in my brain and I realized that the only person who could help me was, well, me.
I started coming to terms with many things about myself. I was goofy and awkward because I had been so used to being by myself that I didn’t know how to be around others. I was inarticulate because I didn’t know what I was feeling and how can I articulate something I didn’t even understand? I was unattractive because I’d made myself believe that. And my self worth? It was okay to like myself. I had to come to grips with that. And that was probably the hardest thing I had to change. After so many years of self pity and self loathing, I had to turn all that around and start fighting. I realized that the reason I had allowed myself to be so down for all those years is because it was easy. It was so easy to surrender myself to the pessimism of life. In order for me to be happy, I had to fight. And that’s a scary thing.
It became much easier when I met Robert. I didn’t realize it then, but he was helping me become a better person in more ways than one. The day that I realized that Robert and I had so much in common we were practically the same person shook me to the core. I am totally, 100% head over heels in love with this man who is exactly. like. me. But if I could love somebody who was exactly like me, doesn’t that mean I can love myself? Isn’t that what that means? I spend a lot of time reflecting on how our relationship came to be, and even though it seems nothing more than a random series of events, I can’t see it that way. I probably will never see it that way. I thank God every day for the way my life has gone in the last six years. You see, when I was in my bedroom with the music on and the lights out, I was imagining a better life between the tears. I imagined one day becoming a mother, something I’d wanted to be for as long as I could remember. I imagined having a family of my own. I imagined slow dancing with my husband in the kitchen. I imagined happiness. The kicker here, is that so far, all of it has been infinitely better than I imagined.
I am married to a man who is completely perfect for me in every way imaginable. He makes me feel beautiful and worthy and giddy with excitement. Five years gone and I still can’t wait to see him when he gets home from work. Maybe we don’t dance in the kitchen as much as I would like, but we have something better.
We have a 2 year old son that amazes us every day. And soon we will have a beautiful baby girl.