True love fact or myth
One of the first things people learn about me after they realize that I am vertically challenged black woman is that I am married, happily married 98% of the time, which is good considering I've been married for all of my adult life. I married my husband when I was twenty years old and he was twenty three, which for all practical purposes is extremely young and although I consider my marriage successful I wouldn't go out of my way to encourage marriage at that age to anyone.
We were in college at the time, and having a serious relationship of any kind, was a huge challenge. College is the one time in your life when you actually get a voucher to be irresponsible and selfish. As conservative as I can be at times when I run into a college student I always end up giving them a knowing smile and encouraging them to enjoy this time as it can be the best time of their life. Best time of their life usually constitutes getting to know the opposite sex and finding out what it is they want when choosing a mate. I've heard mothers tell their sons to get everything out of their systems in college, and although we don't quite instruct our daughters to do the same, we don't encourage them to get bogged down in serious relationships.
My husband was your average fraternity guy, drinking all the time and popular with the ladies much to my fustration and dismay, but for all his negative points his smile made me blush and my palms sweat and caused me to forget his numerous admirers and bad boy ways. While I always prided myself on being smart and avoiding bad situations, when it came to my husband I was a total airhead.
Beyonce's Crazy in Love was my favorite song for all of 2003 and much of 2004 as it was the summation of that feeling every girl experiences early in life of being unequivocably and irrationally sprung. From the heart palpitating beat to the lyrics
Got me looking so crazy, my baby, I'm not myself lately, I'm foolish, I don't do this. I been playing myself, baby I don't care. Cause your love's got the best of me and baby you're making a fool of me, you got me sprung and I don't care who sees, cause baby you got me.
You're love's got me looking so crazy right now, you're touch's got me looking crazy right now,
the song is a perfect explanation of the kismet that is "first love". I remember listening to the song the first time and thinking to myself, that girl is in love. (Just for the record, I think her and Jay are going to make it, but I digress.)
So I'm nineteen years old and sprung "Crazy in Love" on this twenty-two year old junior that I think resembles my eternal flame Denzel Washington. He shows some interest and the next thing I know, we're talking on the phone six hours at a time,I'm giggling at his corny jokes, we're holding hands in the movie theatre, kissing for hours at a time, and eventually after much drama and heartache end up getting married. I can remember thinking to myself during the rehearsal dinner, "Christal what are you doing?" but quickly shrugging the thought off in anticipation of wearing this gorgeous gown and seeing the man I was in love with at the end of that ceremonious isle.
Eleven years later and I am still in love with this man, but the dynamics have totally changed. When he smiles at me, I no longer blush, in fact I'm not even sure if I have the ability to do that anymore. When we hold hands while watching TV at night, my palms aren't sweaty, and I'll admit most of his jokes aren't really all that funny. We haven't spent six hours doing anything together except sleeping and if there was a camera in our bedroom you'd probably discover we don't do that together for all of six hours. I don't know when the last time the two of us went to a movie together was and when we do, we don't hold hands as there is usually at least one child between us. And yet I can tell you that I love this man just as much if not more than I did all those many years ago when I was sneaking him into my dorm room.
I was prompted to write this entry after reading an article that talked about "true love" and how most couples experience this "in love" feeling for one year and then its back to business as usual. I then had a conversation with a friend where the question was posed "Does familiarity breed boredom?" I answered honestly yes which raised several eyebrows. But I quickly followed up with the idea that love is not the stomach flutters and sweaty palms that most of us equate with the word. Loving someone goes so much further than just enjoying physical chemistry although that is a part. My personal opinion is that its very important to really marry what you like, physically, mentally and spiritually so you have the best possible odds of being happy or at least content in your marriage. If I did like a lot of my people I've met and settled for someone I wasn't that physically attracted to....and then years later the fireworks died down...I'd be extremely disappointed right about now. The fact that he was my choice initially, helps me deal with the fact that everyday life doesn't in the least resemble the romance novel I'd made it out to be. Is it boring sometimes yes, but it's boring because I know that when I wake up, things will be the same as they were when I went to bed, consistent. We love each other and yes, that can at times be boring.
As a writer I have always been a melodramatic romantic. Twelve years ago, the word marriage had me conjuring up images of being "taken on the kitchen table" night after night while I wore beautiful lingerie and made sure my hair fanned out around me just so. I entertained thoughts of coming home to roses and jewelry and other special surprises just for the sake of "love". Never once did I envision my husband holding my hand while my son had surgery and I could barely stand because it was so hard to leave my baby on an operating table alone at six years old. Never once did I envision him just rocking me in his arms quietly after I learned that my father passed away. I didn't have the wherewithal to envision his face after coming home with his first real job, eager to surprise me with the results. Or the warm feeling I got when watching our daughter asleep on his chest when she was barely a month old. Or even the look on his face today as he plays soccer with our son in the backyard.
Those experiences don't result in sweaty palms, or even butterflies in the stomach but to me they are the measure of love. After being married for almost eleven years I know that those are the things that tell me that my husband loves me and in turn tell him the same. The sweaty palms and nervous admissions were good while they lasted but these things are what a lifetime is made of.
Smooches,
Christal
We were in college at the time, and having a serious relationship of any kind, was a huge challenge. College is the one time in your life when you actually get a voucher to be irresponsible and selfish. As conservative as I can be at times when I run into a college student I always end up giving them a knowing smile and encouraging them to enjoy this time as it can be the best time of their life. Best time of their life usually constitutes getting to know the opposite sex and finding out what it is they want when choosing a mate. I've heard mothers tell their sons to get everything out of their systems in college, and although we don't quite instruct our daughters to do the same, we don't encourage them to get bogged down in serious relationships.
My husband was your average fraternity guy, drinking all the time and popular with the ladies much to my fustration and dismay, but for all his negative points his smile made me blush and my palms sweat and caused me to forget his numerous admirers and bad boy ways. While I always prided myself on being smart and avoiding bad situations, when it came to my husband I was a total airhead.
Beyonce's Crazy in Love was my favorite song for all of 2003 and much of 2004 as it was the summation of that feeling every girl experiences early in life of being unequivocably and irrationally sprung. From the heart palpitating beat to the lyrics
Got me looking so crazy, my baby, I'm not myself lately, I'm foolish, I don't do this. I been playing myself, baby I don't care. Cause your love's got the best of me and baby you're making a fool of me, you got me sprung and I don't care who sees, cause baby you got me.
You're love's got me looking so crazy right now, you're touch's got me looking crazy right now,
the song is a perfect explanation of the kismet that is "first love". I remember listening to the song the first time and thinking to myself, that girl is in love. (Just for the record, I think her and Jay are going to make it, but I digress.)
So I'm nineteen years old and sprung "Crazy in Love" on this twenty-two year old junior that I think resembles my eternal flame Denzel Washington. He shows some interest and the next thing I know, we're talking on the phone six hours at a time,I'm giggling at his corny jokes, we're holding hands in the movie theatre, kissing for hours at a time, and eventually after much drama and heartache end up getting married. I can remember thinking to myself during the rehearsal dinner, "Christal what are you doing?" but quickly shrugging the thought off in anticipation of wearing this gorgeous gown and seeing the man I was in love with at the end of that ceremonious isle.
Eleven years later and I am still in love with this man, but the dynamics have totally changed. When he smiles at me, I no longer blush, in fact I'm not even sure if I have the ability to do that anymore. When we hold hands while watching TV at night, my palms aren't sweaty, and I'll admit most of his jokes aren't really all that funny. We haven't spent six hours doing anything together except sleeping and if there was a camera in our bedroom you'd probably discover we don't do that together for all of six hours. I don't know when the last time the two of us went to a movie together was and when we do, we don't hold hands as there is usually at least one child between us. And yet I can tell you that I love this man just as much if not more than I did all those many years ago when I was sneaking him into my dorm room.
I was prompted to write this entry after reading an article that talked about "true love" and how most couples experience this "in love" feeling for one year and then its back to business as usual. I then had a conversation with a friend where the question was posed "Does familiarity breed boredom?" I answered honestly yes which raised several eyebrows. But I quickly followed up with the idea that love is not the stomach flutters and sweaty palms that most of us equate with the word. Loving someone goes so much further than just enjoying physical chemistry although that is a part. My personal opinion is that its very important to really marry what you like, physically, mentally and spiritually so you have the best possible odds of being happy or at least content in your marriage. If I did like a lot of my people I've met and settled for someone I wasn't that physically attracted to....and then years later the fireworks died down...I'd be extremely disappointed right about now. The fact that he was my choice initially, helps me deal with the fact that everyday life doesn't in the least resemble the romance novel I'd made it out to be. Is it boring sometimes yes, but it's boring because I know that when I wake up, things will be the same as they were when I went to bed, consistent. We love each other and yes, that can at times be boring.
As a writer I have always been a melodramatic romantic. Twelve years ago, the word marriage had me conjuring up images of being "taken on the kitchen table" night after night while I wore beautiful lingerie and made sure my hair fanned out around me just so. I entertained thoughts of coming home to roses and jewelry and other special surprises just for the sake of "love". Never once did I envision my husband holding my hand while my son had surgery and I could barely stand because it was so hard to leave my baby on an operating table alone at six years old. Never once did I envision him just rocking me in his arms quietly after I learned that my father passed away. I didn't have the wherewithal to envision his face after coming home with his first real job, eager to surprise me with the results. Or the warm feeling I got when watching our daughter asleep on his chest when she was barely a month old. Or even the look on his face today as he plays soccer with our son in the backyard.
Those experiences don't result in sweaty palms, or even butterflies in the stomach but to me they are the measure of love. After being married for almost eleven years I know that those are the things that tell me that my husband loves me and in turn tell him the same. The sweaty palms and nervous admissions were good while they lasted but these things are what a lifetime is made of.
Smooches,
Christal
posted by Christal Jordan-Mims | 9:25 PM
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