Mike and I are nearing our two-month wedding anniversary. Sound the trumpets, Internet! We're kicking this marriage thing's ass! OK, so we're probably going about it fairly normally. There are bumps, obstacles, kinks, all that makes up real life. We laugh through a lot of things, which is not a bad way to get by, but we also have our fair share of FREAKING OUT and yelling and getting paranoid. (And those are just my responses of choice.)
We live in a house I'm sometimes embarrassed to live in because so many of our friends live in nicer houses. We drive a car that sometimes embarrasses me to drive because so many people we know drive nicer cars. Our recent vacation (our honeymoon) was on someone else's dime and that embarrasses me because we're college educated and we can't afford an island getaway unless someone else is coughing up the dough. Basically, I'm human, and it makes it hard to keep perspective sometimes. I have to consciously remind myself how happy I was when we moved into our duplex, last September. How I'd stand in our driveway and I'd smile that this place was ours (and our landlords, but you get the sentiment). I was so full of gratitude back then that this life, it was mine. And since then something has chipped away at me. Perhaps it's that so many people we are surrounded by have a few nicer things than we do. (I am aware that things are just that and a Louis Vuitton handbag does not a full life make, but there's a rational side to me and also an emotional one, and sometimes the emotional one beats the shit out of the rational side and wins the right to occupy my head.) It's hard to admit you feel a little jealous, because you have so much to be thankful for and feeling jealous, well how pathetic and ridiculous is that? Also, I spent years overcoming the natural pull of jealousy, so now, when I feel a random pang I bury it in fear I'm reverting back to the girl I was a few years ago. I refuse to acknowledge my jealousy because there is no way I'm jealous because I am not a jealous person. That was the old me. The new me is centered and grounded and would never think to be jealous of your mansion or your car or your fancy new purse, you lucky undeserving whore. Not jealous AT ALL, got that?
Although, obviously, I sometimes am.
I'm jealous because Mike and I work really hard at staying afloat, and I feel we deserve more than we have. I am jealous because what we do have, we're generous about sharing, and others? Not so generous. I am jealous because we made bad choices and those choices aren't going away. (Credit reports never forget, and, seriously, would it have killed my high school guidance counselor to have mentioned that.) I'm jealous because other people's bad choices can sometimes be wiped away, and our bad choices continue to stare at us, daily, in the form of bills and notices and dreams that can't be realized anytime soon. And then I get really upset with myself for being jealous or for having these feelings to begin with because so our house is a little modest, it has a roof and I know how many people can't say that. And so many of my dreams have come true. (See every wedding picture on my flickr account.) So I'm jealous and unappreciative. Wow, I'm awesome.
The other night we were talking with some friends about their good news, and Mike was in the other room. He walked in, mid-conversation, and Mike was filled in on the life-changing news. Mike responded with, "That's great." And, people, he meant it. I froze, reminded of why I'm so in love with this man. He's the least jealous/judgmental person I know. He doesn't envy anyone. He's content with his life and he always gives people the benefit of the doubt because he would want that in return. He makes this world what he wants it to be, and he makes me want to do the same. He knows we don't have much and we probably deserve more than we do have, but he figures it'll come when it's meant to come and until then, let's just watch some Mythbusters and eat some popcorn and call it a day. He revels in our ordinary, budgeted life, because he knows it'll get us to a better life one day. In short, the man has patience and perspective and he knows that just because someone else's house is pretty, problems are universal, and they're bound to have their fair share hidden behind their Ralph Lauren painted walls. He understands all of this and has red hair to boot, and it floors me sometimes how mature this very immature man can be.
During our wedding planning, we were let down by some people. And it shocked me to my core that these people weren't there for us. I became indignant and spiteful. I said to Mike one night, "Fine. We just won't be there for them. We'll stop putting so much effort into the relationship if the effort isn't reciprocated." And I meant it, I was that upset. He said to me, very calmly, "No, we won't do that. We'll keep caring. We'll keep giving. We'll go to their weddings and send them birthday cards. Because that's who we want to be."
I have a jealous nature. I get it from my father, and I know that. But I married a man who is nothing like me (or my father). And he makes me want to be better, and when I tell him my feelings, especially those feelings I'm entirely not proud of, he tells me, "That's OK." And he means it.
And it's because of him I know our life— our marriage—will never fall short, no matter what jealous feelings hit me from time to time. We have a very beautiful life, and, because of my husband, I wouldn't change a thing.
And I mean that.