I’ll Love You For Five Years & Always

I’ll love you for forever.

It’s what we vowed, to choose each other, always.

The hardest part of this process is realizing that our always only lasted five years. For five years, you were the only person I ever wanted. All of my best memories, all of my plans were wrapped up in you.

Five years worth of forever.

I’m still not sure how to wrap my head or my heart around this ending. I am able to let go, knowing that even if others will disagree with me, I have done absolutely everything I could to fight for us — to fight for you. There’s a part of me that’s bitter, broken. Desperately wanting to know what I could have done differently. There will be your list of things of course, things that you’ll say pushed you over the edge. I get that. I know I caused you hurt and I know there were issues with how I handled things. After all, I’m only human.

I’m realizing how much we love differently when we believe it’s forever. I’m realizing how much I enabled and excused the things that happened in our home, holding to my mantra: this is just a season.

It took me a very long time, but I finally realized that circumstances are a season. Choices are not.

I know I’m going to cry every time I hear Ed Sheeran. It’ll take me a while to be able to eat at Cactus again. Starbucks BOGO days will never feel the same. I’ll watch our favorite movies and hear your commentary every time. I know my heart will break fresh every time something new comes up to remind me.

You’ll exist in most of the corners of my life, for five years we did it together.

So I’ll keep loving you, baby, even as I let you go.

I’ll love you for five years & always.

xoxo, B

Reasons I Cried Today

Hi, it’s me, B. Mom, wife, author of this blog, and very, very, very human.

Typically when I sit down to write, it’s because I want to share an exciting moment, a positive experience, or a perspective on an issue at hand.

But sometimes, none of those things come to mind.

Some days, like today, are rough.

I cried a lot today.

I cried because my daughter spilled her water again and I had to help her wipe it up.

I cried because she wouldn’t listen to me at all.

I cried because she screamed for three minutes straight when I put her down for her nap.

I cried because two clients have been on my back about their orders and the post office hasn’t cooperated.

I cried because even after my taking my medicine I still spent 15 minutes trying not to throw up.

I cried because my husband didn’t follow through on things he’s said he would do and I’m stressed about our timeline.

I cried because my husband told me his day was hard but didn’t ask me about mine.

I cried because I haven’t seen my best friends in months and I miss them so. much.

I cried because I have to give Tiny a bath tonight and it’s always a nightmare to wash her hair.

I cried because I want coffee but I’m afraid of throwing it up.

I cried because I just wanted to shop at Marshall’s but Tiny threw a fit so we had to leave.

I cried because when I threw away my plate from dinner, my fork fell outside the garbage and I left it there.

I cried because my house is such a mess and no matter how hard I try to keep it clean, it always falls apart.

I’m crying because I’m struggling with the balance of being a mom, wife, and homemaker and I feel like no one sees how hard I try.

But I know it’s normal, and it’s okay. I can have days when I cry. It doesn’t make me a bad mom, wife, or homemaker to break down sometimes. There’s a taboo among adult women when it comes to talking about our feelings, as though it’s considered childish or needy.

We talk about the reasons our children cry. We talk about the things our husbands struggle with. We make sacrifices without expecting anything back and for some reason, it feels so wrong to ask for support.

Every day in my mom groups, I see these beautiful women ask for advice on raising their children, on supporting their husbands, on being “good” housewives. I get messages almost daily from people who read this blog or ladies who value my advice, asking me what I’d do in different situations when they don’t feel strong enough on their own. Sometimes I think I come across as though I have it all together, even though that’s never been my intention.

So here’s the truth: I don’t have anything together.

One of my absolute favorite quotes is by Augusten Burroughs and says “I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.”

You see, I cry a lot. Over small things and big, important things and not. I try and stumble forward eloquently and fail often.

But I want you to know that I have these days too. The days when you’re not quite sure you’re good enough for the task at hand and the sheer enormity of life seems too much to handle. Sometimes, the most healing thing to do, is to remember all the reasons I cried today and look at each one with the knowledge that this too shall pass.

So if you cried today too, just know that I’m reaching my hand out to hold yours in the atmosphere and you’re in my thoughts tonight and always.

xoxo, B

Why Divorce Is Never An Option In My Marriage

By no means do my husband and I have a perfect relationship, let alone marriage.

We are going on four years in June, two of those spent married. It’s crazy to me how such a small amount of time can hold so many memories: both good and bad.

For a long time, I wasn’t sure we would last. We faced a lot of struggles and a lot of hurt. The word “divorce” got thrown around. Our marriage turned from a place of refuge to a place of war.

There was no miracle that saved us, we put a lot of hard work and prayer into making our marriage go on. We had reached the point where the only thing holding us together was that piece of paper, but we chose to rebuild, and with grace and a lot of support, we saw a renewal of our love and were able to offer each other forgiveness and relationship.

I took away a lot of things from this experience, but the number one decision that made a difference was to say: Divorce is not an option.

Divorce is not an option because it allows for a fallback. It means that if a marriage fails, there is still a socially acceptable alternative. It means that once there’s only a piece of paper holding you together, you might as well make it disappear.

Divorce is not an option because it allows for “what-ifs.” It asks the question “What if this marriage was the wrong decision?” “What if we should have waited?” “What if…?” Allowing the what-ifs encourages dissatisfaction and insecurities in the marriage.

Divorce is not an option because it means throwing the first stone. It means you compare your spouse’s shortcomings to your own and judge them based on the scale of your own design. It means judgement is placed higher than forgiveness in your marriage and that the faults of your partner outweigh their charms.

Divorce is not an option because marriage is a vow. The words themselves are vows, yes, but even bigger than that is the soul binding nature of marriage. You are vowing your life to another person and regardless of how cheaply marriage is portrayed in our society, that is a weighty commitment. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard or read a statement from my peers along the lines of “I’m pretty sure he’s the one, but if it doesn’t work out, there’s always divorce.”

If that’s how you see marriage, your marriage is going to be a hard, rocky road.

There are without doubt necessary reasons for a divorce. It is not up to me to say what those are. But I do know that if you allow divorce to be an option during your marriage, the hard times will be 10x harder than if you go in knowing it is not an option.

When soldiers go into battle, they go in with the expectation that they will win. If they were to go in allowing the option to lose, chances are they will.

Treat your marriage like the most important battle of your life where your only option is to win and don’t be surprised to see victory after victory as you continue on.

xoxo, B