A Bump in the Road

James and I have been "together" for more than ten years now.

Waiting for the bats to come out, September 2012

When we first started dating, and for a couple of years after we got married, we had a lot of differences and issues that we had to work through in order to have a functional relationship. We always liked each other, and we always loved each other, but that didn't mean it was easy. We just wanted it to work enough that we were willing to work.

After that, though, we just had a rhythm. Yes, we had minor disagreements and misunderstandings. But those were just blips in what was otherwise a pretty protracted honeymoon period.

This summer, everything changed. Like a complete shifting of the ground beneath our feet. We still love each other. We still like each other. We still want it to work, so we're putting in the work. But, dang, it is hard. It's been hard for months. It's going to continue to be hard for months.

I hurt James, and knowing that I've done anything other than bring him joy and happiness is absolutely gut-wrenching. His struggle to love me even while being extremely angry is both admirable and hard to watch. At the same time, I'm hurting and mad because I feel like what I did was the only thing I *could* do, and there doesn't seem to be any room for me to be cared for in my own hurt because I'm not grieving and James is. And I love him, and I know it's just a season so I'm not building up any resentments... but what I'm telling you is that it's rough, and sitting in discomfort isn't my strong suit.

Where this becomes different from any other major life shake-up I've had before is this: James and I have an otherwise healthy relationship. I've had huge overhauls in my reality before, but it was typically after months or years of toxicity and estrangement. When something devastating happened, it was easy enough to "paper over" is because there wasn't much to fix and I had turned off caring long before that as a means of protecting myself.

Fighting to love someone and stay present when they're also the source of your pain is a huge undertaking. We both know our family is worth it. It continues to be a daily battle.

Here's what I know, on my side: I love James with all of my heart. I want to see our kids up and out of the house together. I want to empty nest with him. I want to go on long, aimless road trips together and notice silly out-of-the-way things that make us smile. I want us to be able to go out to a restaurant in the middle of the day and not have to worry about getting back to work or finishing up because our kid is getting bored. I want a future where we look back on this time and can see that we're somehow better and stronger for it. This is what keeps me getting out of bed and trying again every morning.

At Mal's friend's birthday party, August 2022