Relationships & Love

My father was an angry man. I never understood what made him angry, but I did manage to pick up on it. As a result, I entered adulthood with my own anger issues and ill-equipped to know how to deal with them. For a long time, I didn’t.

For years, I avoided the “L” word, the “M” word, and the “C” word – Love, Marriage, and Children. They may have been okay for others, but not for me. I had other things to do.

I’m not sure what motivated me, except fear. I rationalized my bitterness, putting up a front that I was perfectly content living alone, being alone, staying alone. Truth is, I was lonely, bitter, and destined to stay that way. Then one day, I decided to make a change. I began to look for a wife.

My mother and I have the traditional Hollywood mother-daughter relationship. My mother is the antagonist and I am the baby cub that simply falls in line. Sometimes I try to prove my womanhood but it really doesn’t make a difference. She will always see me as a four year old with a frog in my pocket.

My encounter with my mom involves her telling me what to do and her missile launching several random questions at me all at once. And, she will not, even if she is eating, allow me to get a word in.

She says things like: Do you have an iron? Have you gained any weight? Did you ever return that library book? Did you lock your door? When are you going to start getting allergy shots again? Does your seatbelt work? Please do not speak to strangers or pick up hitch hikers. And, please do not accept emails from strange people asking you for money online.

Who would be your perfect spouse? Your Mr. or Mrs. Right?

I bet most of us have come up with answers to these questions, whether informally in our head or on a checklist we keep at the bottom of a desk drawer.

When I was a teenager this question of ‘Who is your Mr. Right?’ was forever turned on it’s head by an older, happily married gentleman. He said words that I’ve never forgotten.

Seven years ago I was living in suburban Boston, Massachusetts with my husband and wondering how we were going to make it work. We were both traveling too much for our jobs, and our time together was almost nonexistent. When we were home, we were overwhelmed with the task of taking care of a suburban house while living a mobile lifestyle. It was exhausting, and we were on the brink of personal and professional exhaustion.

Something had to give.

In the course of our courting, there were frisbees-a-flying, beers-a-flowing, big bad barbeques, and more than a smattering of smooching and cuddles. Being together was easy and always.

We married in 1997, healthy, happy, and excited about our lives. All that we wanted was to be together and continue the fun and goofiness that attracted us to each other in the first place. Simple enough, seeing that we were getting married and all, right?