The first time I got married, I was pretty young, naïve and foolish. I didn’t genuinely understand what it meant to share a life with another person (although I was convinced I did.) 

I was, however, absolutely certain of one thing. 

I wanted to do my marriage differently than my parents had. I’d witnessed the hostility, anger, frustration, hurt and dysfunction first hand. I definitely did not want that. But let’s face it, my mom, dad and stepdad were my role models so naturally, I ended up re-enacting what I’d experienced even when it was the last thing I’d wanted.

Meanwhile, my heart craved something else entirely.

Something other than what I was creating. My heart longed for intimacy, love, connection, to be understood. All these desires sounded romantic and simple… but somehow, they eluded me. 

What I had and what I wanted were miles apart only I pretended that wasn’t the case and acted as if everything was perfect. 

Until it all came apart.

Looking back I see that the main challenge, the thing that successfully unraveled my relationship, wasn’t any one singular event. In fact it was the opposite. It was the small, ever day, ordinary moments that poked the holes.

What am I talking about?