CHECK OUT THIS ARTICLE ON THE HUFFINGTONPOST BLOG! On the way home from running errands in our quaint town, my heart fluttered as I drove down the familiar street. I paused for a second at the stop sign, taking in the sight of my first apartment with my husband. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a “no pets” policy. For the first few months, we didn’t even have internet or cable. Metal folding chairs were our furniture in the early weeks. Trips to the grocery store involved heavy calculations so we didn’t go over our tight budget. Doing laundry required walking outside, around the building, and down a flight of stairs to the dingy basement. We lacked so much. However, when I drive by that apartment, I’m always filled with warmth―and not just from the sweaty memories of the summer of record-temperatures without air-conditioning. Thinking of that first year of marriage, I never think about all of the things we didn’t have. I think of all of the amazing memories and the sheer love we experienced in that first year. There were spontaneous walks to the local coffee shop on a lazy Sunday afternoon. There were game nights where we played Yahtzee until two in the morning by our single lamp in the cramped dining room. There were spontaneous kisses, simple bouquets of flowers picked from the garden. There were evenings sipping hot chocolate and watching the first snow out our front window. There was the daily feeding of our “pet squirrel” we named Jerry. There were first Christmas parties, first surprise birthdays where we jammed our family into every inch of the apartment. There were daily laughs, tons of milestones, tons of firsts in that apartment. Five years later, and we’re still together, still making memories. We’ve got a house of our own now and two extra bedrooms. We’ve got a yard, a grill, and a house full of pets. We’ve figured out our budgeting. We have cable, internet, and several televisions. We have so much more furniture and really, so much more of everything now. Things are good... but I’d be lying if I said that newlywed euphoria was still present in our marriage. Gone are the days of random wildflower bouquets. Kisses aren’t as frequent, and simple things like playing Yahtzee aren’t as exciting as the newest show on Netflix. Still, our love has matured and deepened. It’s not as fluttery and magical as the first year, but it’s stronger in many ways. We’ve grown, and so has our love. We’ve weathered tough storms and scary moments. Our connection has moved past the firsts into a region of reliability and steadfastness. That’s not a bad thing. Some days, however, I wish I could go back to that first simple year. It certainly wasn’t perfect. There were days of scathing remarks and vicious fights. There were moments we had no clue what we were doing. Looking back, though, the moments of togetherness, of excitement, of love, shine brighter than the bad ones. Our society often views newlyweds with criticism and condescension. We like to remind them that “tough times are coming” or refer to them as clueless. We scoff at their belief that passion and romance will last forever. We scowl when we see them drowning each other in sweet looks and tender touches in public. I think, though, we should be sending them a different message. So I say to the newlyweds: Bask in every glorious moment of the first year.
However, down the road, the memories you make as newlyweds will be the moments you flash back to. They’ll be the moments you smile about on rough days together. They’ll be the foundation for your life together, the moments that remind you of why you’re better with each other. They will be the moments that make you smile as you drive past your first place together. More importantly, they will be the moments that remind you why,wherever you are in life, your significant other is truly where home is.
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Check this article out on the Huffington Post!My husband is a burly, bearded gamer. I am a short, pale bookworm.
We are, in many ways, the definition of opposites attract. My husband loves any kind of game, really. He plays Warhammer—a tabletop game—video games, computer games. He logged more hours on Fallout 4 than I think is even healthy. Every night, while I’m reading, writing or cooking dinner, his go-to activity is plopping in front of some kind of game and escaping to a new world. I fill our home with quote pictures, books, makeup, and throw pillows. He fills our home with miniature models, video game systems, Loot Crates, and headsets. We are 28, still young enough to be adventurous, to be social. But we aren’t, and we don’t. Most nights, the call of the gamer speaks to my husband, and he must answer it. Don’t feel too sorry for me, though. It’s not like this came out of nowhere. It’s not like I married a hiking enthusiast only to be blindsided by a secret gaming addiction. I entered into this relationship knowing this was who he was. You may ask: Why would I willingly subject myself to this? Why am I okay with the fact my 28-year-old husband probably games more than a teenager? Oh, I’ve done my share of complaining. I’ve whined about his childish hobby, especially when he tries to use it to get out of mowing the lawn. I’ve scolded him about how much money he’s dumped into make-believe. I’ve rolled my eyes when I’ve heard so many stories about PewDiePie I feel like the guy is family even though I’ve never watched a single video. Looking at it now, though, 5 years into marriage, I’ve realized, like many things, there are silver linings to marrying a gamer. 1. I know where he is on Friday. I know so many women who have to worry, to wonder where their man is. Is he going to the bar to find a new woman? Can he really be trusted with his friends on a wild night to Vegas? None of these things have ever crossed my mind. If Chad isn’t at home in front of his game, he’s out with his friends. Where is out with his friends? Gatehouse Games, our local tabletop gaming store. Here, you can find camaraderie, a soda machine, lots of talk about things I don’t understand, and some loud rock music. What won’t you find? Wild times, crazy girls clawing at your man, alcohol, or bad decisions—other than maybe too much money spent on a new army. Other Fridays, if Chad’s out with his friends… he’s in our gaming room. Playing games. Right down the hall. I’ve found that, for the most part, a gaming man doesn’t stray too far from his games, from his gamer friends, from his life of imagination. A night at the bar? Please. My husband would rather spend a night exploring magical lands of dragons and zombies. 2. I get lots of reading and TV time.Yes, my husband spends a lot of time on his video games. Yes, he spends a lot of time pushing buttons on a controller. But you know what? It’s okay. Because it gives me tons of time to do what I love: reading and watching Netflix. I don’t have to fight with my husband because a sporting event is coming on he wants to watch. If I need to feed my OITNB addiction, he goes on his computer, no questions asked. If I want to read and have some “me” time, he puts a headset on. Don’t get me wrong. We still make time for each other. Every Thursday night is movie night, where we put phones, games, and books aside. Every Saturday, we go out to dinner or cook dinner at home together. Each night, we take time talk and walk our mastiff Henry. We make time for each other. But we don’t only spend time together. We also give each other time apart. His gaming hobby leads to plenty of guilt-free time to pursue what I love. And he doesn’t insist I try to love his hobby because he can do his hobby while sitting right beside me. 3. He has a good imagination.I’ve lived thousands of lives through the pages of my books. I’ve been to other countries, to worlds that don’t exist. So has my husband. We both like to explore other worlds—just through different mediums of choice. His gaming has incited a creativity in him, something certainly helpful for a writer like me. We’ve had so many conversations that start with “what if.” We have imaginative discussions, mostly thanks to his imagination incited by gaming. As a writer, I’ve had so many times where I’m doubting a story line or wondering where to go. Chad’s penchant for storytelling that surfaced from his love of games always helps talk me out of a writing hole. It’s nice to be married to a man who doesn’t think anything is impossible, who can think creatively. 4. My husband has goals.Okay, so his goal may be to 100% a game. But he has goals and perseverance. He knows what it’s like to work hard for something you want. Are the achievements he seeks on his Xbox always rational? No, especially in my eyes. However, it’s good to see someone with persistence, with a go-get-it attitude. This translates into a marriage where he doesn’t quit when things get tough. He knows overcoming tough levels takes work, and he doesn’t throw in the towel or the controller when things seem impossible. 5. Gamers will teach you to do what you enjoy.There is still stigma surrounding the gaming world. So many look at my husband and think he’s childish, lazy, or just plain nerdy. Other guys tease him for not spending his time working on his truck or going hunting. Gaming is synonymous with a lack of manliness, at least to some. But Chad doesn’t care. He games because it’s what he loves. He’s taught me it’s good to have a hobby you enjoy, no matter what others think. He follows this concept in all areas of his life. Recently, we were at the beach. When people were looking at a hurricane simulator in the arcade but feeling too adult to try it out, Chad jumped right it. Did people stare? Yes. Did people think he was childish? Absolutely. But it was something he wanted to do, so he didn’t worry about what everyone thought. He just did it. Chad’s gaming has taught me not to worry about social stigma. Follow your passions and do what makes you happy. So Marry a Gamer Some may say gamers are geeky and obsessed and sedentary. Some of this may be accurate But he’s my gamer. And even though I don’t know what “For the Horde” means, even though the only game I’ve ever successfully played is Goat Simulator, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Baked beans, orange Tic Tacs, and memes.
It sounds like a terrible party game gone wrong, not a list of romantic endeavors. But for me, these three items have shown me love truly does prove itself in the seemingly insignificant moments. Married Life versus Romance: The Battle of Time I’ve been married for 5 years, but I’ve been with my husband over a decade. We’re dedicated, devoted. We’re happy and settled. He’s the one for me. No matter what the media tries to tell you, marriage is a beautiful thing. When it’s done right, it’s filled with moments of connection, of laughter, and of sheer, unconditional love. But let’s face it: every marriage, even the strongest, loses its magical, fairytale glint after so long. The first year, everything feels like you’re living in Paris, drinking wine and watching rose petals fall. The grocery store is an adventure. Showering together, napping together, watching movies together—everything is a romantic date. There are gleeful kisses and “I can’t believe I’ve got you,” moments. There’s pure, sheer romance. And then: real life. Bills. Groceries. Cleaning. Worries. Routine, the romance killer, slinks in. It doesn’t happen all at once. But suddenly, the “I love yous” are strategically planned. The kisses are fewer and farther between, and maybe a little less energetic. He doesn’t notice your new hairstyle or your new dress or your new anything. You shave your legs, perfect your makeup, and put on his favorite perfume—and he stares at his phone the whole time. Suddenly, he doesn’t want to go with you to the grocery store. Suddenly, you can’t remember the last time you held hands or made-out like teenagers or flirted with each other. Expectation versus Reality: Romance and Marriage We all know fairytales aren’t real, and no love is perfect. We’re all warned by wise elders that the magic in marriage fades, that you can’t hold onto the passionate romance forever. We don’t believe them. Deep down, many of us are still the little girl wishing we could be Cinderella with Prince Charming, Belle with the Beast, or any of the other magical princesses. We want to be treasured. We want to have someone fall in love with us. We want to be swept off our feet. It’s certainly not realistic. I don’t even know if it’s possible. Some men would say it’s unfair for women to expect this. Perhaps. But that doesn’t make it any less difficult when the magic begins to fade, even a little. It doesn’t make us any less troubled when we start to notice things slipping away, even if it’s just a magical, unrealistic expectation. How to Keep the Romance Alive: Appreciating the Small Moments I’ve certainly felt troubled about romance and marriage at times. I’ve noticed in the past few years my husband and I hold hands less and less. I can’t remember the last time he bought me roses for no reason. Candlelight dinners are also a thing of the past—although in fairness, it’s partially because of the fire hazard with five wild cats in the house. At first, it was easy to blame him. Why don’t you love me anymore? Why don’t you do romantic things for me like you used to? These were the questions that plagued our marriage for a time. But then, I got real with myself. Do candlelight dinners, roses, and surprise trips to private islands really prove one’s love? Why was I judging my relationship on a pre-conceived notion of romance? Are grand gestures of romance what I really need in a relationship? As a married 20-something, I’ve come to learn that even though the fairytale moments are certainly nice from time to time, we have to learn to look for the other, smaller moments as well. Some may call this settling, and maybe, in fairness, they have a point. But for me, I think it’s more about appreciation for the good things in my relationship. I think it’s about realizing your man might not meet swoon-worthy expectations all of the time, but that doesn’t mean his gestures of love are any less meaningful. It’s about realizing the loss of huge romantic gestures in a relationship does not equate to a loss of love or a failed marriage. My husband doesn’t take me dancing to a formal ball. He doesn’t surprise me with trips to Fiji or chocolate-covered strawberries. But he does show me he loves me in all sorts of small ways. When my husband goes to the grocery store or a convenience store, he always picks up my favorite candy—orange Tic Tacs—and leaves them for me on the counter with a note. When we get KFC for dinner, he orders baked beans as one of the sides even though he hates them. When he’s at home and I’m out or at work, he will send me a picture of a funny meme that he knows will make me laugh. Every day, he does small, seemingly insignificant things to show me I matter to him, to show me I’m always in his thoughts. Are these the gestures romance novels are made of? Not that I know of. But they are the romantic gestures that show me our love is real, even if the gestures seem silly and unromantic to the outside world. Balancing Your Expectations and Reality So does every woman need to settle for baked beans when she really has her heart set on a Chicken Cordon Bleu dinner? I don’t think so. I think the secret is to knowing yourself and knowing what you really want out of life, love, and marriage. If you need champagne and roses in your life, then by all means, hold out for it. But if you don’t want that in a relationship, do not let society, literature, or the media tell you those are the requirements for a healthy marriage. Don’t let your idea of romance be defined by others. So roses, candles, and fillet mignon or Tic Tacs, baked beans, and memes, it doesn’t matter. The fairytale looks different for each of us. We just need to be brave enough to trust our heart and accept the version we want to write for ourselves. I never realized I wouldn’t have cable or internet.
When Chad and I first got married and moved into our quaint apartment on Walnut Street back in 2011, I never thought about the things we wouldn’t have. I was thinking about picking out plates and where to hang my mirror and how many bath towels we would need. I was thinking about morning coffee together and lazy afternoons strolling around town. I was thinking about the life we would build together, the successes we would have, and all of the memories we would make. In all fairness, we were super blessed. We had found an adorable apartment for a good price, and he had a great job. We had awesome family members who helped us get on our feet, helped us get furniture, helped us navigate the waters of living on our own. But, for the first few months, we didn’t have internet or cable. We were both nervous. We’d both lived at home until we got married, so we had no clue how to budget or how much the bills would cost or how to plan meals. We had no idea how to make a cleaning schedule or how to host a party or anything else about growing up. So, for the first few months, we didn’t get cable or internet, wanting to see how we managed our money before adding anything else on. We thought it would be tough. How would we survive without constant email updates and television shows? How would we manage? But you know what? Looking back, they were a good few months. Without cable and internet, we had a lot of movie nights, sitting on the couch with our homemade popcorn watching stuff together. We had a whole lot of game nights, a whole lot of walking nights. We had a whole lot of talking, a whole lot of cooking, a whole lot of time together. Quality time. Eventually, like many couples, the luxuries started to add up as we got more comfortable with our budgets and moved up in our careers. The cable man came one dreary day, and the internet was suddenly something we didn’t know how we’d lived without. The game nights were still there…but suddenly I wanted to watch a show on television or he was surfing Youtube. Our walking nights turned into sitting nights, sometimes separately as we watched different things. Now, there are so many nights we’re absorbed in our own world. We have so many things now, and life is nowhere near as simple as it was. We’ve got gaming systems, televisions, computers, a computer room, and everything in between to distract us from life and each other. Looking back, those simple days were tough. There were days we had our eyes on what we didn’t have. But they were beautiful, too. They were days when all that mattered was having each other. All that mattered was our tiny apartment, our life starting out, our dreams about what would be someday. In the past month, Chad and I have started a new weekly tradition, a shout out to our first months of marriage. Every Thursday, we have a movie night together. We pick a movie we have or on Netflix, and we watch it together with a snack. You know what we’ve found? That one night of setting aside our personal distractions, that one single night of just sitting together and laughing at the same screen, it’s been amazing. You can have internet and cable and still have a strong relationship. But you can have internet and cable and slip completely away. The bottom line is, no matter what luxuries you have or don’t have, you have to make time for each other. Quality time, together only time, no distractions time. It doesn’t matter if you’re watching Alice in Wonderland or playing Yahtzee or painting a picture or just lounging on the couch. Sometimes simple times make for the strongest relationships. Some people fall in love at a coffee shop, their eyes meeting and instantaneously telling them that they have found their match. Others meet while passing each other on the street or at the library. Love reveals itself at the mall, at work, in the produce aisle of a grocery store. It can come all at once, or it can languidly reveal itself between mutual friends. Love can transpire between two acquaintances thrown together by mutual friends or a dating website. It can come when we are young, when we are old, or anytime in between. It can come once, it can come twice, it can come more times than we can count. Love’s story is unique to each of us, despite the common core of its emotions. No two love stories are the same, despite what movies and literature may try to tell us.
For me, love revealed itself at the art table when I was twelve. True to love’s qualities, my love story is its own. It was the first day of seventh grade, and my Cocoa Puffs were threatening to spew onto the floor from nerves. New students, new teachers, and new classes had upended my sense of calm that was usually shaky at best. Tapping my new shoes together and wishing I could fly back home, I waited for my name to be called for my seat in art class. Once in my chair, my brown eyes glanced around the room at the other faces, finding few that I recognized. That’s when I saw him. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed kid who would become my best friend, my first boyfriend, my fiancé, and eventually my husband. As fate would have it, he was seated across from me at the art table. It wasn’t love at first sight. There weren’t angelic rays flooding onto us like a spotlight. No cheesy love song blasted from the speakers. Nonetheless, when I saw him, my twelve-year-old self knew that there was something about him. He wasn’t dressed like a model from the pages of my Seventeen magazine. He wasn’t flaunting himself or even saying a word. There was just something about him that I was drawn to, something that told him he would be important to me. That gut feeling was one hundred percent accurate, as I would soon find out. From the beginning, Chad and I were the least likely couple you could imagine. I was Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, always saying “please” and burying my nose in a book. I was studious, serious, and rational to the core. He was free spirited, racking up detention halls as I racked up As. He cursed often, he hated school, and he hated rules. We had nothing in common other than the fact that we both played trumpet in the band and laughed at the same jokes. Over the years, however, we found something in each other. At first, it was friendship fused by a common sense of humor and the time spent together at the art table. There was something between us, a light that ignited when we were with each other. There was an ease to our conversations, even at the young age of twelve. We brought something out in each other. He made my rigid personality lighten up, and I helped bring some seriousness and goal setting to his carefree nature. As the years passed, we continued to grow together as we grew up. Laughter turned into kisses, dates turned into proms, and “I love yous” eventually turned into an engagement ring. We maneuvered the murky waters of adolescence together, finding that the connection merged would weather us through early adulthood as well. Many were skeptical about our relationship. Who finds their soulmate at twelve? However, we seemed to prove the naysayers wrong as we glided through our maturing relationship, always together. Certainly there were struggles. There were immature fights over jealousy and the other nonsensical ramblings of teenagers. There were angry words and tears, broken promises and slamming doors. We fought, we thought about breaking up. We wondered if we should move on and find someone new. No matter what feelings or thoughts threatened to tear us apart, though, our love always conquered them. No matter what we faced, we always found that we faced it better together. We realized that together was our only desired option. Now, at twenty-eight, people are amazed by our story. When we tell them that we have been each other’s “one and only” since we were twelve, we face skepticism and astonishment. In an age where you should try to “play the field,” we are an archaic trend from the past. When we got married, we had already been together for over a decade. At our wedding, our first dance was to Faith Hill’s “Just Breathe,” the song that we first danced to in junior high. People assume that to be with one person since junior high, you must have an unbelievably perfect connection. This is far from the truth. Is our relationship roses and candles, smiles and stolen kisses? Are we living in a fantasy fairytale that is unattainable for others? The answer is a big fat no. Those who know us well know that we are not the ideal couple. We fight, and we fight often. Although our opposing personalities often help us balance each other out, they can also lead to turmoil. I am a planner, while he is free spirited. I am a saver, while he is a spender. I am meek and self-conscious at times, while he isn’t afraid to stand up for himself when he feels cheated. I worry about social appearances, while he isn’t afraid to curse in public. Our differences often lead to differences of opinion. Like any other couple, we have been tempted to throw in the towel from time to time. We push each other away, we frustrate each other, we annoy each other. Somehow, though, we always find a way to bridge the gap between us, no matter how wide it gets. For all of the bad days we’ve had, there seem to be at least twenty good ones. Additionally, we are not perfect adults, nor do we have the picture perfect life. We eat ice cream for dinner and buy way too much candy at the grocery store. We struggle to save money, splurging on impulsive buys. We don’t have a white picket fence in front of our house; in fact, our house is covered in the decaying leaves that I have been nagging him to clean up. I am a terrible cook, and he is a terrible handyman. Our only children have four legs. We are still working out the details and rules of this thing called adulthood. Through it all, though, we’ve learned one thing together: love isn’t perfect. The idea that it is perfect stems from a meticulously constructed illusion that fairytales do exist in real life, that the show Once Upon a Time can actually happen. In our world, however, Prince Charming doesn’t exist, but neither does Snow White. Instead, we must realize that love is about sacrifice, about reality. It’s about finding joy in the small things together. It’s about ignoring his annoying chewing habits and him forgiving me for spending way too much on makeup. It’s about just finding something to smile about each day. It’s about deciding that our faults deserve forgiveness because at the end of the day, we’d rather fight through our struggles than throw in the towel. It’s about deciding that our history together is worthy more than giving up or trying to find something new. It’s about choosing to believe in the power of us and our story over the pull of temptation. It’s about realizing that our life together isn’t even close to being perfect, but it makes us perfectly content overall. So no, our story isn’t all that special. We are not romantic heroes who deserve a medal for staying together so long in a fickle society. We are not blinded by an unattainable love, we are not the model marriage. We don’t have this whole thing called love or life figured out. We’re still changing, we’re still growing, and we’re still searching for ourselves. We are, however, proof that against all odds, against the statistics and stereotypes, our generation can stay true. Despite our “short attention spans” blamed on technology and our tendency to stray, our generation can stay in a monogamous, meaningful, fulfilling relationship. We do still believe in the power of love and the possibility of experiencing life with the right person. Chad and I are not supermodels or movie stars. We are not relationship experts. We are, however, two people who found each other at a young age and invested in each other. We are two average twenty-somethings who value love, our relationship, and the life we have built together. Above all, though, we are just a boy and a girl who fell in love at the art table in seventh grade.
Last week, after cheating on our “let’s not eat out” diet and eating at Primanti Brother’s—if you’re going to cheat, at least do it right—we stopped at the typical Detwiler Saturday night date spot.
Walmart. Can you sense the sarcasm? Walmart is not my favorite place in the world, let’s be clear. I’ve had plenty of weird, stressful, frustrating, and just creepy encounters in the superstore. Somehow, though, I seem to always find myself in its aisles of products…with Chad by my side. We were strolling into the symbol of America’s doors. We were joking and laughing. And that’s when it happened. An elderly lady dressed quite wildly in a tiny little car came within a few inches of running over my toe. Then, she gave me a crazed look and sped off. Instead of saying something sentimental, loving, like, "Thank God you didn't get run over," my dear husband says, "God, you almost got killed by a fortune teller." And then he calmly shrugs and pulls me into Walmart. This, for some reason, made me start crying with laughter. It was so stupid and random. But that's my husband for you. His humor is odd, often offensive, sometimes crude, and sometimes just dumb. But he makes me laugh every single day. Our Bond Over Humor
Since I met him in seventh grade, my husband has been a bit of the class clown. In seventh grade, he got in trouble for making me laugh. He sat behind me in class. When the teacher tried to draw a village from the Middle Ages, Chad whispered, "What? Are the people living in candy corn now?" Again, so dumb, but I found it hilarious. Our teacher did not.
His gift for the gab coupled with his lack of self-consciousness makes him a perfect "funny one" at any event. He is often the one at gatherings making everyone laugh with his ridiculous storytelling...unless I've warned him to keep it clean and not say anything embarrassing. It happens sometimes. Does it drive me crazy ? Yes. Absolutely. We've had plenty of "Can you please take me seriously for a second?" moments. We've had plenty of "Stop talking everyone's ears off" moments. For the most part, though, his humor matches his free-spirited nature, and it helps me loosen up a bit. I'm the worrier in the family, the rational thinker. Sometimes I need his humorous, life is a joke perspective. Take yesterday when I accidentally posted the wrong video to Youtube. The unedited, test run video. The video in which I, mouth open, search for the stop recording button on my computer screen. Yep, I was mortified. Chad, though, started mercilessly joking about it and laughing hysterically. At first I was mad. But eventually, he made me laugh about it, too. He made me realize worse things could happen--like getting run over at Wal-Mart. Chad has helped me laugh off my most embarrassing moments, my lowest points, my failures. When I only sold two books at one of my book events and was crying about being a joke, he helped me laugh it off. He's amazing at that. When there's an awkward moment, a heavy moment, he can lighten it. I would share some of our jokes, but honestly, I don't think anyone would appreciate them. We often laugh that if someone would hear the things we talk and laugh about, we'd both be sent away and labeled as crazy. But that's the thing. We have this bond through humor. We find the same things hysterical, from Tosh.0 to a picture of a Persian Cat saying Fancy Feast weirdly to my near death experience with a fortune teller. Give Me Laughter Over Anything
Some women look for sexy abs, amazing eyes, good teeth in a husband.
For me, though, give me laughter. Every day. Chad always jokes about this, too, that he might not be sexy, but he's funny and that's better. He always tells me if he dies, I should never find a sexy model because they don't have a sense of humor. I'm not quite sure Chad's discriminatory observations are true. But I do know I'm glad I'm married to a man who can make me smile. He frustrates the hell out of me, makes me crazy. But at least he can make me laugh through it. So please, if you're still looking for love, make sure that man makes you smile. Life is hard and full of tough experiences. Find someone who can make you see the funny in the sad, can make you smile when you feel like bawling, and you'll be all good.
In this segment of Love Notes, we're talking money. Chad and I met when we were twelve at the art table and have been together ever since. We've been married now for four years (we're 28), and we've learned a few things along the way. Mostly, we've learned that monogamy and happiness are possible in the modern world, even if a perfect marriage isn't.
Money Fights: Why Money Makes Us Stressed
Eek! It’s the blog post no one wants to read—the one about money.
Why do we clam up when we even think about the green paper? There seems to be a built in freak-out button in us that causes us to zip our lips when someone starts talking about financial aspects. We never talk about salary with each other, and we hate to admit we are broke. There’s so much shame, pride, and insecurity when it comes to talking money. I think many marriages find themselves in trouble over financial aspects because of this very reason. Even when we’re sharing a bed with someone, we hate talking money. We avoid it, we pretend it doesn’t matter, we pretend it doesn’t exist. Until it does matter and money’s existence in our relationship rears its ugly head. However, there are secrets to keeping money out of your marriage at least from a fighting perspective. Money Fights: The Early Years
During the early years of marriage, Chad and I were trying to just keep it together. We had both lived under our parents’ rooves forever. We had no clue how one went about creating a budget or how much the water bill would cost.
We were clueless. I can remember that first week of marriage. We were TERRIFIED we were going to blow it financially. We took a calculator the grocery store and were afraid to even buy a pack of cookies because we didn’t want to run out of money. With this fear came a lot of stress, and with stress, fights sometimes break out. Overall, we’ve been fortunate to not have many money fights, even in the beginning. There were a few times we argued because one of us made a purchase the other deemed unnecessary. There have been times when everything seemed to break at once and money became an issue. But we’ve never had a screaming, knock down fight over money. Why? We learned a formula early on for success when it came to financials in married life. Money and Marriage: Secrets to Success
We have a few rules that we’ve followed since we said “I do.” These rules have helped us keep things running smoothly, even when we hit a few monetary disasters.
1. Always check with the other person when making a significant purchase. A $5 shirt…obviously buy it! That doesn’t need permission. That would just be annoying. A $300 game system or a $100 pair of shoes? Maybe, but we need to talk about it. This isn’t something we learned the hard way—it’s just been the way we roll. Maybe it’s because we’re both incessant chatterboxes who feel the need to tell each other everything, but we’ve always had a habit of giving each other a heads up when we want to make a bigger purchase. It helps us stay real about our money situation. We can make sure we don’t have any big expenditures coming up. And we’re both reasonable. I know sometimes he needs to splurge on that video game just like sometimes I need to splurge on my hair (beauty is money, right?). We’ve been good at compromising and at giving each other room to make big purchases. By keeping each other in the loop, though, we are able to work together toward our common money goals without blowing it because of secret purchases. 2. Separate accounts Our families and the checkout people often look at us like we are NUTS…but we have separate accounts. We keep our paychecks separate and our accounts separate. Why not a joint checking account? Honestly, it was just easier when we started. We both had direct deposit and certain auto payments set for our accounts. We are both too lazy and hate waiting in bank lines to go and switch it. So we kept it. We sat down when we got our apartment and again when we bought our house. We divided up the bills fairly, leaving us both the same amounts or close to it. I pay my half out of my checks, and he pays his. What we have leftover we can spend or save. It’s worked beautifully. We both are more accountable for our spending this way. Do we have to help each other out or move money around? Yes. But this is where rule one comes into play. I also think as a modern woman, it’s nice to have my own source of money. I like the independence and freedom it symbolizes. We may be a financial unit, but we each still have our own sense of contribution and worth. I recommend it. 3. Realize Mistakes Will Happen Are we the perfect picture of financial expertise? Absolutely not. We’ve had to reboot from time to time. We spend more than we should. But we’ve learned over the years to cut each other slack. We both have our financial flaws. I buy way too many pairs of shoes, and he’s addicted to gaming. We both sometimes get off track from our long-term goals. But that’s okay. We don’t hold it against each other. Talking About Money: Communication is Everything
By keeping communication open and making each other feel like equals, we’ve avoided the money fights that plague so many couples.
I think above all, we’ve learned that communication is everything. You have to figure out what you both want short-term and long-term, and then work things out to make them happen. There will be mistakes. There might even be the dreaded money fights. But as long as you keep the communication open, you can avoid a marriage ending in a violent rage characteristic of a typical game of Monopoly. Need more tips? Check out this great article by Forbes on how to not let money ruin your marriage. Married? Have a topic about marriage you think we should discuss? Let me know in the comments! Wondering what the heck this Love Notes thing is all about? Be sure to check out my first post for more information.
My husband is not the romantic hero of a swoon worthy love story.
He is not a roses-just-because, romantic love letter kind of man. He’s not a “let’s go to a suit and tie kind of restaurant” or a “let’s go dancing” husband—which is probably good because his only tie has Scooby Doo on it. He’s not a prim and proper, pull out my chair for me, set the table with fine china kind of person. He’s not the suave man with silky words and perfect romantic surprises. In fact, many of his co-workers joke with him about the fact I write romance. They ask him where the heck I get my inspiration from because it certainly can’t be him. But my husband is, in fact, the romantic hero of our love story. Love is in the DetailsI’ve learned over the years that romance, the real kind, isn’t about huge gestures or movie-type moments. Real life love is about the small things, the things that happen when no one is really paying attention. Love is when my husband cleaned the entire house when I was away on a three-day business trip just so I wouldn’t have to when I got home. Love is when he picks up orange tic tacs at the store because they’re my favorite. Love is when he slaps huge car magnets on his truck to advertise for my book. Love is when he makes me laugh when I want to cry. Love is when he tells me he believes in me or that I can keep going or that it’ll be okay. Love is when he takes my cat to the vet because he knows I’m worried about it or when he gets the food ready on New Year’s Eve because I’m busy editing a book. Love is when he picks baked beans as one of our KFC sides even though he hates them just because I like them. Love is when he helps me take new headshots at eleven o’clock at night because I need a new picture. Love is when he sends me an ifunny picture because he knows I’m having a rough day. Are toilet brushes and laundry detergents and vet trips and baked beans sexy or romance-novel worthy? Probably not. But I’ve come to learn that a man in ripped up jeans a Game of Thrones T-shirt who is willing to go out on a limb for you, who is willing to see you at your worst and try to bring you back to your best, that’s what love is. Love doesn’t always come in a suit and tie with fancy dinners and candles. Love isn’t always sleek and smooth and suave. Real love sometimes happens when no one is watching. Real love isn’t always movie worthy. But in those small moments, those tiny moments of putting someone’s needs above yours, those are the ones that count. Those are the ones to build a life, a love around. A New Kind of Romance
My goal in my writing has always been to showcase this type of love. I want women readers to realize love doesn’t have to be romanticized or dramatized to be engaging. I think the beauty in a love story is the realism in it. Love isn’t always about sexiness or huge moments. Sure, those moments are nice. But sometimes the real depth in a love story comes from those tiny moments a real woman experiences in the modern world. That’s what I want to showcase in my work.
So yes, I have some of those big, beautiful moments we all crave. But in my writing, I also seek out the smaller moments, the moments that are truly worthy and awe-inspiring. My husband might not be your typical romantic hero, but he’s a hero to me. So yes, he does inspire my writing, whether he wants to admit that or not. We Took A Wrong Turn Today
unglasses perched on my nose and hands firmly planted on the wheel, I stamped on the gas a little bit harder to save us from the perilously close tractor trailer.
"Left lane," my husband shouted." "I am," I shouted. "No, exit left," he corrected. "What?" My brain was more focused on the tractor trailer behind us and the cars zooming beside us to notice the exit he was talking about. And then it was gone in the blink of an eye. Yep. We were going the wrong way.
.I would love to say this was a rare event, that getting lost on the way home from the state poetry competition was a rare, new experience.
It's not, though. One time, we drove two hours in the wrong direction to go to the Pittsburgh zoo because Chad punched in the address for the elephant reserve instead of the actual zoo. We got lost going to DC because I was playing with the gps and accidentally touched the screen...and didn't realize it until an hour later. We've gotten lost dozens of times, sometimes for five minutes, sometimes for an hour. I'd love to say we are supportive in these times of random roads and unfamiliar sights. But we are not. We curse at each other. We blame each other. We bicker, and I swerve in anger. I scream, and he screams. It's not pretty. Getting lost doesn't typically make us stronger or better as a couple. It doesn't challenge us in a positive way or push us to laugh off small situations. Usually, it just ends with us being huffy and ignoring each other for a long time, vowing we'll never take a trip with the other again. Finding the Positives in Wrong TurnsThis time... was not a lot different. I screamed at Chad for waiting until last second to tell me go left and for saying left lane instead of left exit. He screamed at me for...well...really no reason (Hey, it's my story, so I can say what I want! :) ). But then, a silver lining. We somehow ended up in Amish country. I know, you're thinking what's this have to do with anything? It doesn't. It was an odd place to be, an odd sense of timing. But it was also beautiful. In high school, I went through a period of loving Amish literature. Lurlene McDaniels wrote a story about a girl who falls for an Amish boy, and I was crazy about it. I've also read a ton of books by Beverly Lewis. I've always found the Amish interesting. So here we were, on a random Monday, driving through Amish country. We got to see five horse and buggies. We saw an adorable Amish couple walking on the road. Amish children were playing by the road, and there was even a small boy playing with his gray cat. There were sheep and horses, and rolling fields for miles. Was it an astounding, once in a lifetime sight? Nope. It was simple. It was plain. But it was also much cooler than the sight of the highway. I got to see a glimpse of the world I'd read about so many times. I told Chad about memories I had of going to the Belleville market as a child, and we chatted about it. It was just a nice reminder of something that interested me at one point and of simpler lives. It made me think about how in a world surrounded by noise and connections, we often feel lost. Here were people who ride in a horse and buggy, yet they probably have a better sense of community than most of us. Most of all, it reminded me that sometimes a wrong turn can be okay. Sometimes, the sights are a little bit better when you miss your exit. The Lessons of Being Lost
We like to believe we are always in control, one step ahead of life. We plan ahead, look ahead, live ahead.
Sometimes, though, life forces us to take a wrong turn. Sometimes we miss the exit or sometimes we just can't make it over. A lot of times, these "wrong turns" frustrate us. We get mad that we missed the path we planned on taking. So many times in life, though, the wrong turns end up being right ones. Whether it's a career or your love life or even a vacation, sometimes the wrong turns along the way make things more scenic. Sometimes they help us create better memories than if we'd just followed the right path all along. So, I've learned a few things today. 1. Don't let Chad hold the GPS. Ever. 2. I'm a terrible driver. 3. Chad and I may be good at communicating, but not in a car. 4. Horse and buggies drive quite slowly. 5. Farms are pretty to look at, much prettier than the highway. 6. Sometimes taking the long way home isn't such a bad thing. Chad and I are twenty-eight-year-olds who’ve been married for four years, but we’ve been together way longer. We met when we were twelve; we sat across from each other at the table in art class. We’ve been together basically ever since. Over the years, we’ve had a lot of laughs, tears, and times we wanted to give up. We’re still together though, and still happy. We’ve learned that our society’s ideal that monogamy isn’t possible and marriages aren’t forever just isn’t true. Marriage is hard, it’s frustrating, but it can last. In this new segment, I’ll share some real-life tips about what we’ve learned along the way. Splitting ChoresAm I right in saying the days of the 1950’s housewife smiling as she scrubs the toilet and cooks dinner are gone? Because I know for me, those days were never here. Some women enjoy cleaning (I’m sorry if you’re one of them…but I just don’t understand. At all :)). To each her own, I suppose. But for me… I’d rather listen to Elmo sing opera for nineteen hours or eat my own cooking (more on that later) than clean anything. Perhaps this could be attributed to my schedule. I work full-time and am working on my Master’s Degree and write books. I know many of us modern women are struggling with hectic schedules even harder than mine. Some of us have demanding jobs working more than forty hours a week. Some of us work multiple jobs. Some of us work part-time and balance family life or caretaking. Some of us are stay-at-home moms who, thus, work 24/7 on more tasks than I can imagine. We are all called to a different schedule filled with struggles and impossible balancing acts. Thus, for me, like many, cleaning takes the bottom rung on the priority chart. Not that I don’t appreciate a clean house. I, like many, enjoy the fresh scent of a spic and span house. I like when everything is in its place and my home looks presentable. But the reality? Don’t come to my house on Thursdays. Sunday is cleaning day. Sunday, everything looks somewhat presentable. As the days trudge on and the stress of the week plods through my life, though, suddenly cleanliness is forgotten. Books are tossed on the couch instead of the shelf. A faint rotten milk smell permeates the kitchen…either from the piling dishes or the trash can that I’ve been stomping down so I don’t have to take it out. Bob, our sixteen-pound black cat, decides to rip out his hair and leave a trail through the house. Clothes clutter the bedroom floor, and the counter is undetectable under the heaps of mail and other random objects. By the weekend, the need to clean is undeniable. And so is the likelihood of a fight with the husband. Chore FightsI would say our worst, verging on divorce fights have been about chores. By the weekend, there are usually screaming fights over who left cereal in the sink, who should run the vacuum, and why he is pretending he can’t see the soap scum in the shower. Ridiculous, right? Not really. Let’s rewind to the early days of marriage. As in the first week. Still floating on the feelings from the cake and Jello shots, our first week of splitting chores was angelic. He did dishes just because. I scrubbed the floor with the 1950’s housewife smile even though it wasn’t even dirty. Everything was in its place…mostly because we barely had anything to put into a place. We were full of “don’t worry, honey, I’ll get it,” or “thanks so much, dear, for doing that load of laundry.” Marriage was bliss. Now let’s look at recent days and exchanges. There’ve been swear word exchanges because he is apparently blind to the mud on the kitchen floor…or doesn’t know where to find the mop. He has been angry on a daily basis over my bad habit of leaving cereal in my bowl in the sink. We’ve fought over how to split up the chores, over who does more work around the house, and over how chores should be done. I’ve felt enraged because it seems like all of the indoor work falls on my shoulders because “clearly women love cleaning” and “women are better programmed for cleaning” (cue sarcastic/sadistic laughs). He’s been angry because he feels like I don’t appreciate what he tries to do. There have been screams, there have been cleaning strikes, there have been threats to leave. There have been feminist-style rants and accusations of sexism. There have been unkind words and white glove inspections and invisible lines drawn in the house. Some weeks, the messiest thing in the house isn’t the kitchen sink or the shower; it’s our marriage because of our chore fights. Finding Chore CompromiseOver the years, we’ve tried many things to fix the problem.
1. Chore charts We actually pulled a kindergarten style chore chart out. We each got stamps for the chores we completed. At the end of the month, the person with the most got extra spending money. The verdict: Fail We both ended up cheating. As in, “I wiped the counter with a Clorox Wipe? Stamp for cleaning kitchen.” Then we fought over the chore chart. If memory serves me, there was a violent shredding of the chart by me over some unfair stamps. Epic fail. 2. The “Sexist” Solution We went back to our 1950’s style solution for a while. Chad would do all of the outside work, and I would do all of the inside work. The Verdict: Angry, angry fights After about a week of this, I became enraged. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I love doing all of the indoor chores. Plus, I realized that while he only had to cut grass once a week, I was struggling to keep up with chores every single day. Cue jealousy, rage, and accusations of sexism…even though the whole thing was my idea. Oops. 3. Fifty-Fifty Okay, this is what we have now. Chad does grass and snow removal. He also does dishes because I hate doing dishes. I do laundry, which weighs out with dishes because Chad hates doing laundry. Then, I do the vacuuming, dusting, floor scrubbing, animal care, and clean one of the bathrooms. Chad cleans the upstairs bathroom and will vacuum one time during the week. We’ve tried to split it as equally as we can. The Verdict: Less screaming fights, but still the occasional tiff I mean, Chad seems to think the upstairs bathroom needs cleaned like once a month and that is good (wrong, as I must remind him every week). He also vacuums like a NASCAR driver, which is annoying. Sometimes I still feel like I’m doing more work in the house, especially because I typically plan our meals. His standards for clean are a bit different than mine. And he still gets pissed when I leave cereal in the sink. Or coffee in my cup. Or when I fold his socks inside out. Yeah, we still have our differences. But we’re getting better. When he knows I’ve had a terrible week, he’ll step up his game and pitch in more. When he works overtime, I’ll do the dishes just because. We’ve spent less time fighting and more time compromising. We’ve also let go of the notion that it is possible to maintain a Home and Garden type house while working like we do and having five cats and Henry. It’s just not real. What we’ve learned: there will always be chore fights, especially in the modern era. There still seems to be this stigma that women adore housekeeping, which is definitely not the case for all of us. I think it’s just about communicating, trying to find a system you can both live with, and realizing it will never be perfect. Oh, and never having company over on Thursdays. So if you need something on a Thursday, please call first. At least an hour ahead. And plan on Chad and I being angry at each other because we have to clean in a hurry :) |
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