From Manic Pixie Dream Girl To Happy Homemaker: How Meeting My Husband Healed My Life
When I first met my husband, I wasn’t prepared for love. After dodging an almost-arranged marriage and witnessing the tumultuous relationships of my parents' generation, I began to doubt if marriage was for me.
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During my formative years, my mother – a single parent due to my father's murder – raised me until she passed, leaving me orphaned. I wanted happiness but didn’t equate it with marriage, especially because the man I’d been dating right before I met my husband had a secret family. (Obviously, as soon as this information emerged, I put him in my rearview.) I’m writing this piece shortly before celebrating a decade of being with my husband, so what changed? I did.
Matrimonial Misgivings
My aunt and uncle, who inherited me, were waist-deep in a cult. This cult had a special way of handling purity culture, which caused many who weren’t yet ready to get married to marry in order to avoid “sin.” As these couples were not yet mature enough for this connection, their lack of preparation led to friction and marital trouble. These individuals were genuinely doing their best, so this is by no means a judgment against them. Marriage, like anything in life, is a learning curve.
However, being raised in this environment made understanding and appreciating the gift of marriage a dismal process. It also left inexperienced girls, such as myself, who longed for marriage, open to exploitation by untoward individuals.
Then, when the grandparents of a lifelong friend got divorced after 50 years due to infidelity, it discouraged me from pursuing such a connection. When I was in high school, I witnessed another fractured marriage. I had served as a flower girl during their ceremony, but now, the aftermath left the forsaken bride crying on my shoulder about her divorce. In short, I didn’t have many healthy marriages modeled for me, and the ones that were on display ended up shattering before my eyes at a tender age.
I grappled with loneliness and the desire to find someone to do life with; I was simply unsure how that could come to fruition against the backdrop of generational curses.
At the same time, I grappled with an overpowering sense of loneliness since I had the inherent desire to find someone to do life with. I was simply unsure how that could come to fruition against the backdrop of generational curses and the mainly unhealthy environment of my adolescence.
Romance Redux
There was one marriage, though, that was the gold standard for me growing up. My then-best friend of 10 years had parents who radiated romance. His eyes would shine when he gazed at her, like Flynn Rider watching Rapunzel. They sang to each other in the car, and the feeling of love was palpable in the air around them. One time, I asked him what his best advice for marriage was. I had to know their secret, what set them apart so dramatically. He told me, “Marry your best friend.” These four words would put me on a path to my husband less than a year later.
While I was single and looking, every single one of my other married friends engaged the cliché, “You’ll find a husband when you stop looking,” which led me to play a disingenuous game of peek-a-boo with myself. “Hey, God! I’m not looking! You can send him in at any time now,” I would whisper, hoping beyond hope that someone would save me from my tumultuous past and carry me into a brighter future. I tried with lukewarm resolve to convince myself that I wasn’t purposefully looking to hang out on a date backstage with a rockstar while my cousin waited for me on a tour bus, and was so naïve that I didn’t realize he was looking for a hookup, not a hangout.
When I first met the man who would become my husband, I was at a summer camp. I was too busy leading my campers to victory by taking a soccer ball to the head in the line of duty to notice him initially. I’ll never forget how I introduced myself to the gorgeous man who had come to pick up his charges, “Hi, I’m Miss Freda.” I set about making sure my camper had his lunchbox, and that sweet boy decided to play wingman, choosing that moment to reach out and pull me into a group hug. It would be the first of many. I didn’t know what lay ahead when I gave this man named Kyle my Snapchat handle to do an initial screening. But the entire event gave me such a good feeling that I found myself dancing in my kitchen as I cooked dinner that night.
Love’s Liberation
Kyle and I talked nonstop, and for one of the first times in my life, I felt seen. It wasn’t the late-night, laid-bare, tipsy drinking kind of seen that can leave you feeling cheap in daylight. He gained a true perception of me that permeated my soul and gave me strength, enhancing my confidence and making me feel safe, which was something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
He didn’t see me for who everyone else wanted me to be – rising through the ranks of my religion and fighting to be understood by my guardians – but who I was and could be to him.
My husband’s comfortable yet commanding presence – firmly in his masculinity – allowed me to relax and be in my femininity.
Kyle made this clear on our first date, when he laid out what he was looking for in a romantic interest, saying that he wanted to get married, have a family, be the provider, and enable his wife to take charge of homemaking and whatever pursuits called to her. He told me that he understood if that wasn’t what I was after, but that was the path he was aiming toward. It was the single sexiest thing I had ever heard up to that point in my life. Kyle’s comfortable yet commanding presence – firmly in his masculinity – allowed me to relax and be in my femininity. Six months later, he recreated our first date, but this time, there was an Easter basket filled with my favorite chocolates, a large bag of my favorite candies, and hidden underneath, a stunning ring in its box that was perfectly me. I’d find out years later that the car he’d claimed to be saving up for wasn’t a car at all. He’d been saving up for my engagement ring since our first date.
Our joyous celebration was met with family rejection. My guardians immediately vowed not to attend our wedding because Kyle didn’t share their religious beliefs. Additionally, I faced expulsion from the close-knit religious community where I grew up, shunned by everyone I once knew. Even my cherished relationship with my hairdresser – a bond every girl treasures – was torn apart by the cult’s doctrinal pressures. I had braced for this but was blindsided when I was kicked out of my childhood home. It was a terrifying ordeal, but Kyle’s father offered us refuge. We worked hard, saving up for our first apartment while staying in a room of his childhood home.
Heartwarming Harmony
With Kyle's support, I broke free from the narratives that once held me captive and was allowed to blossom. He guided me in discovering my passions, standing by me through every change. He was my lifelong dream, and alongside him, we discovered and achieved new dreams. Kyle also helped me get into college, something I wouldn’t have been allowed to do previously. I juggled freelancing, entrepreneurship, full-time work, and homemaking while maintaining my place on the Dean’s List. Soon, I discovered that I took the most pleasure in homemaking and took pride in curating a haven of serenity. Upon this discovery, Kyle bought me an apron and adjusted familial priorities so that I could focus on homemaking. Kyle saved my life and gave it back to me.
From the moment I met my husband, my seemingly tragic trajectory was permanently altered. Together we’ve faced challenges and emerged stronger with each obstacle overcome. His belief in me fueled my dreams, guiding me to discover my purpose in life. His genius, drawing out the best around him, has led to my experiencing a cognitive renaissance. His love gave me the courage to break free from the past and embrace endless possibilities. With him, I've learned love isn't a fleeting emotion; it’s a transformative force and a conscious decision we make daily to nurture and grow. He has helped me immeasurably to become the woman that I am, and I’m eternally grateful.
Closing Thoughts
Profound love can help us to shift archetypes. It introduces us to our truest selves with poise and grace. Dedication to growing alongside a person who effervescently loves us is an act of taking back control and making daily choices to be a true partner. I used to be a hopeless romantic. Nowadays, I’m a hopeful romantic, and it’s because I understand the power of love.
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