Marrying the Nice Guy
I read an article recently- I think on Maria Shriver's website (great site if you haven't checked it out) about how if you really want to find "the one" you need to throw out your checklist.
It was well timed because today is my anniversary.
So you might be wondering, if I have such a great marriage, why I am blogging instead of being at a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant and then having crazy, off the chart sex?
Simple.
It's Monday night.
We both worked.
We had a Girl Scout field trip.
We are moving next week.
We are tired.
And who really likes getting busy after a big meal?
Sexy, huh?
But that's kinda what the article was about.
If you just got to know me recently, you may simply see me as a dowdy middle aged mommy with a fairly wicked sense of humor. However, if you knew me awhile ago, you can testify that while I was never the hot chick, I was, for some bizarre reason, the gal everyone proposed to.
No joke.
For some reason, everyone wanted to marry me. And not just the folks that officially proposed- I had quite a few more mention it "When we get married...." which usually caused me to choke. I even got one proposal on a first date. He was sorta kinda kidding but a few months into it... well...
And I never really saw myself married. I never did relationships well. I get bored. Very easily.
One of my favorite date memories is going to a wedding, ironically. I was dating a colleague (last time I did that) and some department head's daughter was getting married and we went together. No one really knew we were dating, so it was a bit of a big deal to be out. He was one of those "Some day when we're married" guys and I was "Um... I'm not getting married." But, like every guy he seemed to think every girl dreamed of a wedding and eventually I would come around to it.
So it came time for the bouquet toss.
Every single woman who does not want to get married's nightmare.
And I initially said "Oh... no... I'll sit this one out..." and of course because I'm nice, people think they can push me around, so there I was, on the dance floor with the flower girl and the bridesmaids.
Up goes the bouquet.
And as it came hurtling straight at me, I did what any normal, single girl would do...
I shrieked and whacked it out of the way.
As if it were a bag of poo.
It fell to the floor and some poor bridesmaid desperately dove for it.
The reception fell quiet.
I, very embarrassed, walked back to my date.
He very politely said "You know, the scream... that was something..."
We broke up the next week.
And there were others. Not that I was a big slut or anything, just to clarify.
Marriage terrified me. Every. Single. Day. With. The. Same. Person.
But here's the thing- I met my husband. Who truly is nothing whatsoever that I ever imagined I would date, let alone marry.
My friend Gigi thought otherwise.
Because my husband is a nice guy.
That's it. Really. A nice guy.
And while all the other guys would try to impress me or try to play games, my husband just really liked me, let me know and was completely and utterly himself.
No games.
Just his awkward, uncomfortable, inexperienced nice guy self.
How stinking adorable is that?
He doesn't try to be cool or hip.
He doesn't try to be anyone else.
He gets pissed and let's it all out.
He still loves me even though I got really, really fat because why wouldn't he?
He's not perfect. He knows it.
And he let's me be all those things, too- unhip, awkward, emotional, unguarded and imperfect. Not me playing the role of "cool chick" or "smart chick" or "funny chick" or whatever chickadee someone imagined I was and then would be shocked when it turned out that sometimes I'm not funny, I screw up and I really DID enjoy staying in on Friday nights in my 20s watching "Sabrina the Teenage Witch "in my pjs after a bubble bath.
That feels good to finally admit.
So 13 years later, my husband and I can sorta kinda blow off our anniversary (we went to dinner last night) and say "You know what... it's 13... no biggie... we'll celebrate once we're in the new house..."
Because I can just be me. And he can just be him. And no one is going anywhere.
And it's really not terrifying at all.
In fact, it's quite nice.
In fact, we are much better together than separate and I have a strange feeling maybe that's what marriage really is all about after all.
It was well timed because today is my anniversary.
So you might be wondering, if I have such a great marriage, why I am blogging instead of being at a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant and then having crazy, off the chart sex?
Simple.
It's Monday night.
We both worked.
We had a Girl Scout field trip.
We are moving next week.
We are tired.
And who really likes getting busy after a big meal?
Sexy, huh?
But that's kinda what the article was about.
If you just got to know me recently, you may simply see me as a dowdy middle aged mommy with a fairly wicked sense of humor. However, if you knew me awhile ago, you can testify that while I was never the hot chick, I was, for some bizarre reason, the gal everyone proposed to.
No joke.
For some reason, everyone wanted to marry me. And not just the folks that officially proposed- I had quite a few more mention it "When we get married...." which usually caused me to choke. I even got one proposal on a first date. He was sorta kinda kidding but a few months into it... well...
And I never really saw myself married. I never did relationships well. I get bored. Very easily.
One of my favorite date memories is going to a wedding, ironically. I was dating a colleague (last time I did that) and some department head's daughter was getting married and we went together. No one really knew we were dating, so it was a bit of a big deal to be out. He was one of those "Some day when we're married" guys and I was "Um... I'm not getting married." But, like every guy he seemed to think every girl dreamed of a wedding and eventually I would come around to it.
So it came time for the bouquet toss.
Every single woman who does not want to get married's nightmare.
And I initially said "Oh... no... I'll sit this one out..." and of course because I'm nice, people think they can push me around, so there I was, on the dance floor with the flower girl and the bridesmaids.
Up goes the bouquet.
And as it came hurtling straight at me, I did what any normal, single girl would do...
I shrieked and whacked it out of the way.
As if it were a bag of poo.
It fell to the floor and some poor bridesmaid desperately dove for it.
The reception fell quiet.
I, very embarrassed, walked back to my date.
He very politely said "You know, the scream... that was something..."
We broke up the next week.
And there were others. Not that I was a big slut or anything, just to clarify.
Marriage terrified me. Every. Single. Day. With. The. Same. Person.
But here's the thing- I met my husband. Who truly is nothing whatsoever that I ever imagined I would date, let alone marry.
My friend Gigi thought otherwise.
Because my husband is a nice guy.
That's it. Really. A nice guy.
And while all the other guys would try to impress me or try to play games, my husband just really liked me, let me know and was completely and utterly himself.
No games.
Just his awkward, uncomfortable, inexperienced nice guy self.
How stinking adorable is that?
He doesn't try to be cool or hip.
He doesn't try to be anyone else.
He gets pissed and let's it all out.
He still loves me even though I got really, really fat because why wouldn't he?
He's not perfect. He knows it.
And he let's me be all those things, too- unhip, awkward, emotional, unguarded and imperfect. Not me playing the role of "cool chick" or "smart chick" or "funny chick" or whatever chickadee someone imagined I was and then would be shocked when it turned out that sometimes I'm not funny, I screw up and I really DID enjoy staying in on Friday nights in my 20s watching "Sabrina the Teenage Witch "in my pjs after a bubble bath.
That feels good to finally admit.
So 13 years later, my husband and I can sorta kinda blow off our anniversary (we went to dinner last night) and say "You know what... it's 13... no biggie... we'll celebrate once we're in the new house..."
Because I can just be me. And he can just be him. And no one is going anywhere.
And it's really not terrifying at all.
In fact, it's quite nice.
In fact, we are much better together than separate and I have a strange feeling maybe that's what marriage really is all about after all.
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