i do. now what?
I meant it when I said I’d love him until death separates us. I had no idea that when I said I do and became his wife it also meant trusting him with every part of me. Afterall, that was the only way he could fully love me back and fulfill his vow to me. Contrary to popular belief, every woman that says, “I do,” isn’t prepared for marriage. Another truth worthy of sharing is there are good men willing to love those of us who are still healing until we’re whole enough receive the love they desperately want to give. I know these are truths because I am working on no longer being an unprepared woman who is married to a man that’s patiently waiting on me to receive the fullness of his love.
Even though I’ve been married now for seven years, I am still learning how to be in a reciprocal partnership. My suppressed emotions and fears began to unravel shortly after starting our family. The timing wasn’t ideal, in fact it felt too late, but I made the commitment to heal my childhood wounds anyway. I have spent the majority of our marriage being emotionally guarded. To be clear, he has never given me any reason to believe that he couldn’t provide a safe space for my emotions to rest. I chose to trust the false sense of safety that my survival instincts offered over the vulnerability that being properly loved offered.
I wasn’t taught how to recover from the experiences that starved my heart from its ability to trust the nourishing love my husband offered. Instead, I read the room of my childhood environments and allowed it to teach me. What lesson did I learn? Do not allow anyone to get within striking distance to cause my heart any more pain than it’s already experienced. Like many of my peers, I was unintentionally raised by a culture that celebrates detrimental independence. Purposely though, I was taught that to need or to rely on anyone was a weakness.
Wearing the heavy armor that comes with being a strong black woman is exhausting. It wasn’t good for my sanity or good ground for my marriage to flourish. We were stagnant. The love was there but fear of being hurt took up space where depth should have been. Though opening my heart to the possibility of being hurt was scary, I desired to have a space that allowed me to be needy instead of being needed. I wanted to safely become emotionally undone instead of hiding my tears in the shower. I wanted to take off the heavy armor, get out of my own way, and trust that my husband could hold the weight of who I authentically am and not who I emotionally pretend to be.
Recently, I was placed in a position to test the waters of trusting the safety net that my husband could provide and I was terrified. I mean, ugly cry terrified! My mental health was suffering and yet I still wasn’t sure if I was ready to trust the man that I knew I’d love until our last breath. The fear of losing a layer of myself, even a layer that needed to be shed, and the death grip that childhood and generational trauma had on my 34-year-old self was suffocating. It’s similar to wanting to begin a healthy hair journey, but choosing to hold on to long hair even though a good trim is the responsible and sensible thing to do. My identity in my marriage desperately needed a trim!
In a moment of prayer and worship I was reminded of how God shows up through people. The gift of my husband wasn’t just any gift. He’s a gift from God especially for me. When God gives us people it’s not by happenstance. They’re meant to show us how God feels about us. God trusted my heart to my husband long before either of us were formed, but it is up to me to trust who God trusts.
Through a series of vulnerable conversations and moments of reflection I began sharing my fears and heart with my husband. As if I were in prayer with God and it was His turn to speak, my husband spoke to my fears and the matters weighing heavy on my heart just as God has. His simple yet soul hugging reassurances have left me in awe - and also kicking myself for not letting down my guard sooner. The depth of our intimacy has grown immeasurably all because I decided to invite my husband into processing my thoughts, feelings, and insecurities while taking in and honoring his perspective. Shedding the need to be fiercely independent released me from the rigid ways that I show up as a wife. Now I live comfortably in the sweet spot of being strong enough to trust the safety of being soft.
If what I’ve shared resonated and you find yourself cringing at the mention of vulnerably expressing your feelings, I’ve found that vulnerability is the vehicle that will drive you closer and deeper in love with your spouse. Vulnerability is the prerequisite of intimacy. To be seen we have to allow others to see the real us, not just the best versions of us. If you don’t have the courage to dive into the deep end just yet it’s okay. Dip your toe into the shallow waters by simply telling your spouse a small fear and allow the vulnerable moments to grow from there. Baby steps forward are still progress in the right direction.
