An Honest Love
No matter how many times I spill my heart to show you Truth, we still get the "y'all are just perfect" type comments. Well the Truth is, he took this photo on a night after a devastating phase where we almost didn't make it, where we both almost walked away. Because somehow it would have been "easier."
People romanticize romance. There's deep delusion that Love and relationships are easy. They see how everyone else only splashes their pages with smiles and sunsets. And don't get me wrong, there have been many sunsets and countless smiles. But I can't even begin to count the tears either. My endless well of salty streaks down my cheeks from sensitivity and hurt feelings. His fat condensed drops from years of repression. The couples therapy sessions. My deepest fears of abandonment and his self-sabotage. The fights. The fighting for each other. The fights over nothing that turn into fights over everything. The harsh truths that are said at midnight that still linger at dawn. The tired we have in our bones from jobs, the business we are hustling our heart out to create, family drama, 2 dogs, 2 cats, a house and garden to maintain, scheduling date nights, our sex life, our prayer life, our health. The health scares where I almost lost my best friend. Having to pick up his limp body and wipe blood from his nose after grand mal seizures. The mistakes that almost tore us apart. My panic attacks on the bathroom floor or me sobbing under the fig tree. Both of us struggling to feel fulfilled while pouring from empty cups. Him putting too much on his plate and reaching for anything and everything to soothe him. The deeply painful negotiations of the need for space versus the need for deep intimacy. The excavation of my trauma from my father's infidelity and implosion of my family and the many men that have made me mistrust the masculine. My constant clawing for safety. His needs for affirmation and to be enough. To be seen and have esteem. My debilitating judgment and perfectionism, his addictions and vices. Our egos clashing constantly. Our needs to be right. My relentless emotional smothering with hopes that one day I'll wear down his walls. For me to not cling to him and him to not run from me. For me to not drown him in emotionally loaded questions and him to take more emotionally vulnerable initiative. To unpack my deep mistrust of the masculine. And his deep guilt of what's happened to the feminine. For him to unpack the heaviness and intense beauty of his blackness. And my deep white guilt. For me to be an ally for him. And him an ally for me. For me to hold better space for his divine masculine to see himself and feel safe. For him to cultivate more intimacy so that my divine feminine feels safe. For us to find freedom in ourselves and in each other.
The books and Ted Talks and podcasts and lectures we pine over for how to be better for ourselves and for each other. To be more than my crippling anxiety and devastating fear, to be more than his impulses and desires. To be more than our insecurities. To not be another broken marriage one day. To not be a loveless and delusional couple unwilling to look at their individual and collective shit. To not settle for the status quo that simply isn't working for many anymore. To step into our purpose and stop doubting ourselves. To make the choices we know we need to make.
My desire for deep spiritual transformation now and smothering impatience. His genuine ask for patience and clever emotional avoidance.
To confront jealousy and desire. To confront the devastating loss of trust. And the rebuilding with the faith in a stronger us than the day before. To let old ways of being and bad patterns die. And to sing with each other at their funeral. To dig up deep bones and proudly show them to one another for the sake of Truth, Honesty, and Transparency.
Ultimately our goal is the same. To be the best most integrated and healthy us we can be. To help heal humanity. To fulfill our purposes. To have tons of babies. To see the world. To laugh often and feel deep joy. To take care of our parents in their old age. To seek God. To seek God in each other. And to explore and experience the deepest expression of Love that Spirit has to offer us.
I don't wish for you a perfect love. I wish for you an Honest Love.