The Things I Have Learned

Ahh, Gentle Reader,

There's a Sara Evans' song that says, "I didn't know nothin' 'bout love, I learned that from you.". I'd like to tell you the things I've learned from my Sweetie. 

I thought I knew what love felt like, what passion was, what it meant to be safe in someone’s arms. I have learned what these things are, and so much more. 

I have learned what it is to ugly cry and not feel ugly, but to be held and consoled and comforted. I have learned what it is to see my beloved ugly cry, and not find it ugly, but beautiful that they trust me with their innermost thoughts, fears, and pain. They know that they are safe with me. That is beautiful.

I have learned what it is to scream to the heavens with such passion I am more animal than human. That is beautiful.

I have learned that sometimes I need to lean into their strength, when mine fails. But other times, they need to borrow some of my strength, and that is a beautiful gift to give and receive. Some days I am the “adultier” adult, and some days, they are. We are a true team. We help each other by giving of ourselves, of our strengths, and helping to complement the other’s weaknesses. But we NEVER hold the other’s weaknesses above their head. We merely acknowledge it and figure out how we can best work around/with it. It is so beautiful. 

I have learned compassion. And don’t get me wrong, I was already a pretty compassionate person. But, I have learned to see even more perspectives, and put myself into even more others’ shoes. I have learned to be kinder, gentler, and overall, a better human being. That is beautiful. 

I have learned a new love for reading, for hearing others’ voices and seeing life through new eyes. I’ve also learned a love to be read to. My Sweetie reads me stories, usually children’s book, and there is something so uniquely innocent about it. I lay there as they weave the story with their kind voice, hearing of the antics of the characters, but also the love in their voice as they share with me something they love, something that has gotten them through a tough time, or taught them something, or just made them smile. That is such a gift. How many adults read to each other? (You should, it’s fucking awesome!) Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry, sometimes I fall asleep to the sound of my love’s voice. It is the most beautiful magic. 

I have learned to forgive. I now think long and hard about whether the bread bag not being tied is worth upsetting my Sweetie for, or if I should laugh to myself, “Silly Sweetie” (much like “silly old Bear”), and just tie the bag and go give them kisses. I have learned that when they are tired, hangry, overworked, weary, irritated with something I’ve done as big and bad as not tying the bread, etc. that they still love me with every fiber of their being. They just need a little extra kindness, maybe some extra kisses, and love. It is beautiful. 

I have learned to be proud of myself. They tell me, daily, how proud they are of me, for a wide variety of things, but especially for taking care of myself and maintaining boundaries (both things I struggle with). They mean it, every time, and that is why it sinks into my brain so well. That’s why I hear their voice say “I’m proud of you.” when I remember that I’m doing something good, something I find difficult, something for myself/us. It’s kinda like how your parents’ voices influence the voice in your head, and you hear things they’ve repeated, over and over. I have heard, “I’m proud of you.” so many times, it is now in my inner dialogue. And that is beautiful. 

I am still learning to love my weird, my uniqueness, my goofy references to Rocky & Bullwinkle or John Wayne movies (which I no longer watch, but that’s another post to write), my resilience, my SELF, the wonderful, wacky, loving, emotional, vulnerable, ball of humanity that I am. I still apologize for being “too much”, as I was for the others. But my Sweetie is not the others. And they remind me that I am NOT "too much" of anything. I am the perfect amount of me for them. They are love and light and safety and adulting and giggles and beauty. They look at me like I am a Goddess, but treat me as an equal. It is a unique magic, that I am still learning how to process, after over 2 years. Everything about them still feels so new, so foreign, so unlike the past, and yet, also so familiar, so safe, so right. I am home. And that is beautiful. 

I am learning to not only see the beauty in all this, but to trust it, to know I am safe, in their arms, in their world, in their love. And it is so beautiful.