It was an afternoon in October 2012, and I was laying out cheese and crackers in my little apartment. About 10 minutes earlier, I started to get a nervous pit in my stomach. My mom was going to meet my boyfriend that night. I wasn't one to date seriously. I had one serious boyfriend in 10 years and besides him, I had brought one more boy home to meet my parents in a pathetically clear act of rebellion. (to put it mildly....he was NOT what one would call 'good dating material')
But this boy....well, we were in our 30's so...this man, he was different. We were serious about each other quickly, and my mom wanted to know why. The only explanation I had for why I had fallen so hard and so fast was that I could be myself around him. And he loved me for me.
For as long as I could remember, I felt like I wasn't good enough. I tried desperately to adjust my behavior, my likes and dislikes, my personality, to fit those around me and make them like me. I would end up sad and confused when I inevitably found myself alone, making very few friends, but resolving the next time around to try harder to mold myself into what I needed to be.
And then I met Josh. And try as I might, pretending never worked with him. He liked me best when my guard was down, when I was real and honest. And he had no time for bullshit. He was a single dad, had a busy career, and after going through a divorce, really could care less for anything other than authentic.
I loved this about him. But it also scared the bejeezus out of me. I always assumed that when you fell in love that meant you were complete. The person you were was acceptable to that other human, and thus...complete! No more work left to be done. But of course that couldn't be true because I was definitely NOT complete, NOT perfect, NOT worth loving. This authentic version of myself he kept insisting on, chipping away at any crap veneer I put over it, it was not worth loving until the end of our days.
But he did.
I haven't thought about it much recently until I heard a song by Ben Platt called "Grow As We Go".
Listening to this song I realized that Josh got it all those years ago. He understood something I didn't...that by agreeing to love each other and walk in life together, we were agreeing that we weren't done yet and that was okay because life ultimately would be better if we figured it out together. He wasn't done yet either. So while I thought of him as having all of this life stuff figured out and being complete and finished....he knew he wasn't. He knew I wasn't. And he wasn't just okay with that, he welcomed it. He wanted it. And I am so very thankful he never stopped fighting for me to figure that out.
"I don't think you have to leave
If to change is what you need
You can change right next to me
When you're high, I'll take the lows
You can ebb and I can flow
And we'll take it slow
And grow as we go
Grow as we go
You won't be the only one
I am unfinished, I've got so much left to learn
I don't know how this river runs
But I'd like the company through every twist and turn
....
I don't know who we'll become
I can't promise it's not written in the stars
But I believe that when it's done
We're gonna see that it was better
That we grew up together"
But this boy....well, we were in our 30's so...this man, he was different. We were serious about each other quickly, and my mom wanted to know why. The only explanation I had for why I had fallen so hard and so fast was that I could be myself around him. And he loved me for me.
For as long as I could remember, I felt like I wasn't good enough. I tried desperately to adjust my behavior, my likes and dislikes, my personality, to fit those around me and make them like me. I would end up sad and confused when I inevitably found myself alone, making very few friends, but resolving the next time around to try harder to mold myself into what I needed to be.
And then I met Josh. And try as I might, pretending never worked with him. He liked me best when my guard was down, when I was real and honest. And he had no time for bullshit. He was a single dad, had a busy career, and after going through a divorce, really could care less for anything other than authentic.
I loved this about him. But it also scared the bejeezus out of me. I always assumed that when you fell in love that meant you were complete. The person you were was acceptable to that other human, and thus...complete! No more work left to be done. But of course that couldn't be true because I was definitely NOT complete, NOT perfect, NOT worth loving. This authentic version of myself he kept insisting on, chipping away at any crap veneer I put over it, it was not worth loving until the end of our days.
But he did.
I haven't thought about it much recently until I heard a song by Ben Platt called "Grow As We Go".
Listening to this song I realized that Josh got it all those years ago. He understood something I didn't...that by agreeing to love each other and walk in life together, we were agreeing that we weren't done yet and that was okay because life ultimately would be better if we figured it out together. He wasn't done yet either. So while I thought of him as having all of this life stuff figured out and being complete and finished....he knew he wasn't. He knew I wasn't. And he wasn't just okay with that, he welcomed it. He wanted it. And I am so very thankful he never stopped fighting for me to figure that out.
"I don't think you have to leave
If to change is what you need
You can change right next to me
When you're high, I'll take the lows
You can ebb and I can flow
And we'll take it slow
And grow as we go
Grow as we go
You won't be the only one
I am unfinished, I've got so much left to learn
I don't know how this river runs
But I'd like the company through every twist and turn
....
I don't know who we'll become
I can't promise it's not written in the stars
But I believe that when it's done
We're gonna see that it was better
That we grew up together"
