I Think I'll Keep Him

So, this is something I wrote for my writing class a few weeks ago and thought I'd share it with everyone.

I love my husband. Because I do, I know there are certain things that aren’t good for our relationship. It should have seemed inevitable while dating. He was the charming player; I was the straightlaced school girl. I loved rules. I loved following rules. They made me safe. They made me feel good. The only need he found for rules was to break them and then turn around and find some way to charm his way out of trouble. He was the youngest of three boys, I was the oldest of four girls. He grew up with fierce competition and perfection and I grew up in an atmosphere of acceptance and encouragement. Somehow, in the middle of all of these differences though, we fell in love.

The second year we were married we tried to paint together. We had just bought our first home. I was deep into my “nesting” phase and couldn’t wait to add our personal flair to these white canvases. We picked out the paint and I started the project during fall intersession. I quickly lost focus. (Don’t you think I would have picked a different career from teaching if I could stay focused on something for longer than 5 minutes?) He came home and his years of being commanded by an obsessive father reared their ugly head. Nothing was straight, nothing was right. I didn’t cover the lights right, the switches were spotted with paint. I might have had a laidback father, but I knew how to stand up for myself (thanks, Mom!). Before you knew it both of us were storming around the tiny bathroom, sweating (it was October in Arizona, very clearly still summer), and defiant. Now it was about me getting it right because he said I couldn’t. He felt the need to fix everything I did because it wasn’t perfect. Eventually, he roped a coworker into finishing the job and we resolved to never paint together again.

When we moved into our house we adopted our friend’s five-year-old Akita Labrador mix. Jason’s cousin thought that was the best decision we ever made as parents. She feels that every couple should “try out” a dog before they try out their parenting skills on a child. Once again, I had higher hopes for ourselves than was meant to be. Apparently, because Jason’s father was a perfectionist, he was also pretty strict. He was raised that the child will bend to the father, no discussion. On the other hand, I was raised in a family with a sister who is mentally handicapped. Everything in our family was made to be accessible and enjoyable for her. We played Old Maid with our cards flat on the counter. We told her when to call, “Uno.” Essentially, I was raised on cooperation. When the dog disobeyed, I was patient and loving. Jason was firm and resolute. Then we adopted a miniature toy poodle that needed to be housetrained. Now, Jason’s strength and immovability were a blessing. I gladly turned the discipline over to my merciless partner.

I think we played one game while we were engaged. We got roped into playing a “newlywed game” at church because one of the couples got sick at the last minute. Mind you, we were two weeks away from being married and we couldn’t agree on his favorite hobby! I said cars (he eats, sleeps, and drinks cars, trucks, and bikes) and he said surfing (never in the six years I’ve known him as he gone surfing!). Since that evening, we’ve pretty much avoided all formal games together. (Remember that whole competition vs. cooperation atmosphere thing?) Sometimes we get roped into competing against another couple and it only ends well if we convince them to play the battle of the sexes. On the other hand, if it’s Trivial Pursuit? I’ll gladly pick my husband as a partner. Apparently, the same way he stores all of that knowledge about the new and late model vehicles is the same way he stores random bits of trivia.

So why did two, such different, people get married then? I think our differences are the very reason we did agree to marriage. How boring would it be to be with someone who was as uptight as me? We’d never have fun! I need him in my life to tell me to relax, to make me laugh, to get me to enjoy the moment and the spontaneity of life. On the other hand, he needs me to make him be serious, to realize that certain things need to be dealt with, and to recognize that being responsible is actually pretty liberating. So, yeah, we’ve hit some speed bumps, we’ve had some snags, we’ve set up caution tape around a few things. But, you know what? I think I’ll keep him.