I read a quote once that stated a successful marriage is made of two people who can learn to forgive each other over and over.I didn’t have any idea what I was getting myself into when I got married. I was very young and spontaneous, with a wild and free spirit. Everyone around me thought I was crazy (and some thought I was pregnant) when I said yes to marry a guy I knew for 4 months and saw in person about once every 3 weeks.
It was a shock, to say the least, when real life as a family started with a man I essentially didn’t know that well. If I’m being honest, a shock is a nice way of saying it was really really hard. There were times I questioned everything, even if I had made the right choice, and sometimes thinking…what have I done?
I’ve never been one of those people who says or believes that I shouldn’t have regrets, because it’s shaped me or brought me where I am or all the many nice things that some people tag onto bad decisions and bad behavior. I regret many things in my life…not in a negative and dwelling way, but in a way that acknowledges some of those poor choices.
Every passing day, I realize a little more how lucky…truly lucky…I was that the universe set Kevin Clausen in my path. Can you imagine what could have been, had the man I had chosen not been one with a good heart and pure intentions? A scary thought.
As we’ve walked though this life journey together thus far, it has been difficult. We have been in places of financial lows, with literally not enough money in our pockets to eat lunch. We have, many times, felt overwhelming anger, frustration, resentment, and even rage toward each other. We have both questioned if we should remain together at various points, and let our pride overcome us temporarily. I have said things I didn’t mean. I have put myself over the good of my family unit and my husband many times over. I have shut him out, and demanded him back in.
See, it’s hard, and scary, and painful to place your heart in someone else’s hands. And because they’re human, they don’t always hold it carefully…sometimes they drop it, or stumble, or forget they are holding it. We don’t talk about these things. The truth. It’s either the unrealistic fairy tale or airing of dirty laundry. Both of which are equally damaging to the expectation and view of marriage and it’s failing status in our society.
I do have regrets. I regret every time I spoke to my husband with snark and impatience. I regret times I have shut him out or was unkind. I regret not being more supportive to a million things that he held dear, but I didn’t see of value. And I hate that I will continue to do those things, and my human nature will take over at times and rear it’s ugly head that causes us all to be, in some ways, innately selfish.
Because for every one difficult thing, I have seen 100 happy things. I have seen him sacrifice over and over for the sake of our family. I have seen him work tirelessly, and carefully, for the good of others and bettering them. I have seen him hold our lifeless child in his arms and watched his heart shatter into a million pieces, yet still have the strength to pick me up and carry me through my darkest hour. I have seen others betray him, and watched as he held himself with dignity and quiet humility. I have seen him grow, and love, and fill the people around him with a sense of calm, and that everything is going to be okay. I have felt him support me, back me, and encourage me to pursue things that benefit no one else but myself. I have seen him wrap his heart and arms around our Kroy and choose to guide him through his little life with unconditional acceptance, love, and patience. I won’t, but I could go on…for days.
This is my truth about marriage. It’s a hard truth sometimes. It raw…but it’s real. Things can be difficult and beautiful at the same time. Almost everything worth having is. It doesn’t always have to be one or the other.
If I had it to do over, I’d choose you again. I cherish you, and all of our truth. I will carry your heart in my hands more carefully. I will remain your wild horse that pulls you toward the breeze. You are my anchor that keeps my heart calm in the seas. I love you. Cheers to 7 years.
