My Naked Truth (About Love)

Readers, after the last few days I'm sure you're rolling your eyes at the thought of another AbbyGabs filled with smooshie love stories about Brian and me. You've heard all about how much he loves me, and I told you the story of how our relationship almost wasn't. I'm basically dousing your daily blog read with 100% pure sugar.


Forgive me, reader, for the sugar-dousing continues today. My friend, Ryan, at The Woven Moments, is hosting another "Naked Truth" linky. The last one I participated in, you'll remember, was a video blog. (Why? Because I'm an overachiever, that's why.)


Today, Ryan posts an inquiry: "What do you know for sure about love?"

Check out the linky here!

There are a lot of things I know for sure about love. In true AbbyGabs fashion, I shall present them to you in list form.


Love Is Not A Battlefield
Sorry, Pat Benatar. You know I love ya. But I have to disagree.

Despite the fact that Brian and I had been living together for 3 years before we were married, we still received a TON of advice over how to "survive the first year of marriage."

"It's SO hard, and you'll fight ALL the time," one friend warned.

"You just have to take a deep breath and try to remind yourself WHY you married him in the first place," another person wisely suggested.


"Money. You'll fight about money. And sex. You'll fight about sex....OH, and jealousy. There will definitely be some jealousy."


Each time we received advice about how the first year of our marriage was doomed to be the worst year in the history of man, Bri and I would look at each other, befuddled. How can this be? Is a name on a piece of paper so life changing that the healthy, loving relationship we share can morph into a Jerry Springer episode overnight?


I'm here to tell you, after almost 7 years of marriage, we've yet to have that year. Not because a long term relationship doesn't take dedication and attention. Not because we're perfect. But because we made a decision very early in our relationship to put trust in our love, and let the rest of the chips fall where they may.

Love Isn't (Always) Serious
Yes, Dr. Phil, relationships take work. And yes, Dr. Phil, love is a serious thing. But it doesn't have to be serious ALL. THE. TIME.


Right after trust, LAUGHTER is the next key ingredient in our marriage.


And here's the biggest secret of all: we laugh at each other. A lot. 

Many couples we know tend to get bogged down in the "business" of their relationships that I think they forget to laugh. Yes, there are bills to pay. Yes, you may be angry with him for leaving his socks on the floor. Again. Yes, she complains about her job to the point of exhaustion.


Don't get me wrong. We get caught up in that stuff, too.


But we try to find the humor in everything. Sarcasm is our favorite tool. 

And if all else fails, there's always the tickle monster.


My point is this: laughter allows us to find the joy in marriage. And without that joy, what's the point?

Besides, he's funny lookin'. (HA!) 


Love Isn't (Always) Glamorous
When I was a kid, I thought of love as a formula. 

Handsome man X lots of money + red roses and a diamond ring = love.

That's girl math.


And to be fair, I got the handsome man and the diamond ring.


Despite growing up in the 90s, I had a Donna Reid-esque view of marriage. Except I had power suits and a BMW, too. I never imagined real life would be so hard. That jobs could be so hard to come by, and when I finally found one with staying power, it wouldn't be anywhere near the kind of job I'd always dreamed of for myself. That my husband would have to work like a dog to put food on our table and to put himself through nursing school. 


I never imagined my husband would be diagnosed with cancer at the age of 30.


I got schooled. By life.


But I still believe in happily ever after. Even if I do have to pick up dirty tissues when my husband has a cold. Even if we have to roll the windows down in the car on the way home from our favorite Mexican restaurant. Even if I don't get to live in the fairy tale castle with big windows, a 2 car garage, and the modern kitchen of my dreams.

We may not look like Disney's version, but in our hearts,
we're Cinderella and Prince Charming.

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As I was writing this blog, my sleepy-head husband wandered into the room. He kissed me on the head, looked over my shoulder, and said, "What are you blogging about today?"

"Love," I said. I looked at him and asked, "What do you know for sure about love?"

He looked at me, blinked twice, and said, "It's Great." 


And you know what? He's totally right.


Leave it to him to reduce my 800 word blog down to two. Freakin' genius.

Flowers in a Tequila Bottle

A few days ago, my husband wrote his very first guest post here on AbbyGabs. And it was centered around these daisies:

I promised you then that I would tell you the story behind the significance of flowers in a liquor bottle. And I always keep my promises.


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 ...in a land far, far away...


Er, well, Boone. We lived in Boone, North Carolina. 


Brian and I had just started our whirlwind romance. We were in that "new relationship" place. We would talk on the phone at night until one or both of us fell asleep. We'd sit in the floor of Brian's apartment, sharing a pizza, recounting the stories of our lives. A movie date took hours, not just for the movie, but all the kissing that took place at his apartment, in the car, in the parking lot, during the movie, after the movie, in the parking lot, in the car, and in his apartment.


Even in its earliest weeks, I could feel the staying power of this relationship. I felt like I already knew everything about him. And I felt a trust I'd never experienced with another guy before.


Then we had our first fight. And it wasn't just a normal couples' spat. It was the kind of fight that ends a relationship before it truly gets started.


I'd found out that, in the very hours our relationship began to blossom from friends to more, Brian had lied to me. Even if he'd told me the truth, it wouldn't have altered the course of our romance. But the fact that he lied to me cut me to the quick.


I was furious. Hurt. Determined to turn my back on this new love if only to save my own pride. I retreated to the basement apartment I shared with my best friend, Jenna, cranked my Ani Defranco, and let my phone ring off the hook.


For 3 or 4 hours, my phone rang every 10 minutes. Brian poured his heart out on my answering machine, but I refused to allow myself to feel anything but anger and resentment toward him.


Suddenly, the calls stopped. I wavered between relief and sorrow.


Several hours went by. Jenna came home from work and asked what was wrong. I gave her the short version, terse and angry. Most friends would have immediately taken my side, a wall of female solidarity. Jenna, instead, tried to get me to see things from Brian's point of view. She created a crack in my armor, but I still stood firm, not returning Brian's calls.


Finally, around 8 pm, my phone rang again. Caller ID confirmed that it was Brian. I took a deep breath and answered, preparing to deliver the final blow. I'd decided to end things officially.


"What do you want?" I said fiercely into the phone.


"Just to say I'm so sorry. I screwed up." he said quietly.


"You're right. You did. Big time." I bit out the words viciously.


"Just promise me one thing," he asked.


"What's that?" I replied.


"Just look on your porch before you make any decisions. Sleep on it. And call me in the morning. Ok?"


I started to drop the ax. But instead I found myself agreeing to think on it for one more night. And I was curious as to what I'd find on my porch.


And there they were. Wilted wildflowers stuffed into an empty tequila bottle, with a hand written note.


This action in and of itself would have been enough. But the fact of the matter is that Brian had no mode of transportation: no car, no bicycle, no roommate willing to drive him to my apartment. We lived almost 4 miles away. It should also be explained that the apartment I shared with Jenna was located in a small community on the top of a mountain. (Yes, I'm serious. No, I'm not exaggerating.)


He walked 8 miles. Up hill. Both ways. Literally.

Don't be surprised at my lack of artistic ability.
I warned you once before that I can't draw!

I felt the tears well up behind my eyes, and knew my heart was in his hands. I knew he was sorry, I knew he'd take it back if he could. Yes, it was important to me that I be in a relationship where trust was like second skin. But what was more important to me in this situation: my pride? Or finding forgiveness in my heart for the guy I thought was my perfect one?


I didn't have to sleep on it. I didn't even have to dissect it with Jenna. One look from her and I  knew what was in my heart.


I called him, accepted his apology, and invited him over for dinner.

And I'm so glad I did.


In the ten years since our relationship almost wasn't, I can say without a doubt that Brian has never lied to me again. The foundation for our marriage was built on trust. And I've never doubted, from that moment on the porch holding an empty tequila bottle filled with wild flowers, that I made the right decision.

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Epilogue:

After several years of telling this story as is seen above, Brian confessed to me that, while he DID walk the 4 miles to our apartment, he did not, in fact, walk all the way home. Rather, he ran into some friends at the bottom of the mountain, at our local baseball practice field. After a few hours, they eventually gave him a ride home.

Did he lie about this? No. He just let me tell the story my way. Because it's my truth.

His just happens to be a little different. 

The Best Advice I Ever Received

No matter who you are, someone in your life has, at some point, given you some advice.


Don't chew with your mouth full.
Be nice to people and they'll be nice to you.
Never cross the street on your hands--it's illegal in 4 states.


Most of the time, you nod and smile and think, "I already knew that, but thanks." 


Sometimes, though...sometimes it's the kind of advice that changes your life.


I've been in exactly 5 serious relationships, including my marriage. For the most part, the boys I dated (and I say boys because I met my husband while we were still in college, so these relationships took place while I was a kid) were nice boys. They treated me well enough, and each one taught me valuable lessons to take into life.


My High School Sweetheart taught me to love earnestly, with my whole heart. He also taught me about heart break.


My Musician taught me to live in the moment, and to enjoy life as it comes. He also taught me to pine.


My Best Friend taught me to dream a little, and plan a little. He also taught me what it feels like to have the rug pulled out from beneath your feet.


Then there was The Jerk. I think every girl dates at least one, and The Jerk stole most of my sophomore year of college from me. He taught me to be mistrustful, but he also taught me how to take up for myself. And eventually, how to walk away.


Each relationship, each lesson, put me in a place to be ready for that one big Love that came my way. It prepared me to love My Husband with my whole heart, earnestly and completely, without giving up my own identity. 


I thank each of them for that.


A few years later, as My Husband and I prepared for our wedding, advice started coming out of the woodwork.


Never go to bed angry.
Don't bring up the past when you fight.
It's not okay to call your spouse a cotton-headed ninny muggins.


I can't tell you how many people said the same thing to us. "The first year of marriage is ALWAYS the hardest. If you make it through that first year, you'll make it through ANYTHING!"


We weren't worried. We went into our nuptials with confidence, never wavering. As we stood on the beach, hand in hand, with the sun setting behind us, the rest of the world disappeared. I never expected it to be like that---movie epic good---but it really was, for me. There was a moment, standing on the dunes with my parents, just before they gave me away, when I felt my face break and the tears well up, and for that fleeting moment, I thought I would cry. And then I thought, "No, don't miss this." And I didn't. Not a single second was missed, and I was beaming from the "Dearly Beloved" to "You may kiss the bride."


A few days after we were married, my brand new father-in-law took us aside and sat us down for "the talk." (Not "the birds and the bees" one, the "you just got married and here's the wisdom I'd like to pass down" one.)


He told us that we would face times of trouble. It's inevitable, everyone does. He prepared us for money woes and growing pains and silly disagreements. And along with it all, he gave me the most profound advice I have ever received.


"No matter how noisy life gets, don't be afraid to turn down the volume and focus on the most important thing of all----each other."


It may not seem like much, it may not shake you down to your foundation, but this has become our Marriage Mantra. If everybody else's problems start to bog us down, we disconnect from the world, shut it down for a few hours (or a few days) and just focus on our relationship. When real life gets too real, too scary, too much to handle, we regroup and refocus on each other. We constantly remind each other how lucky we are, and that as bad as we think it is, there are people in the world who don't have what we have. And for that, we are always grateful.


This advice has gotten us through those money woes, and those growing pains, and those silly disagreements that my father-in-law warned us about. It got us through B deciding to go back to school. It's helped us deal with our fertility problems, and the fact that, after almost 7 years of marriage, we still haven't started a family. 


It got us through cancer.


So now, whenever a friend announces they're getting married, or they're having a baby, or they're facing new life complications, I always pass along the seed that my father-in-law planted. Because it has truly shaped our lives, our love, and our relationship. And it has grown into the bedrock of our marriage.