"If you were writing the job posting for 'Stephanie's Partner,' what are three qualifications you'd require?" I asked Gabe one night.
Gabe, unfazed by any part of this question, held up fingers and listed off, "1) They'd have to have a lot of personal agency, 2) be very kind, 3) be socially empathetic."
"Mm," I said. "Yeah. That's good."
We started getting ready for bed. I took a breath and said: "It's interesting because you're not all of those things. You have agency and you are very kind, but you're not socially empathetic."
"I know," Gabe said, smiling. "I'm not the perfect person for you."
"Yeah," I laughed. "I'm not who I'd design for you on paper either."
And we continued getting ready for bed, unbothered, because it wasn't the first time we'd recognized this fact.
I love Gabe an unfathomable amount, on an absolute soul-level. By the grace of God, we've been knitted into one flesh in two bodies—but I really mean by the grace of God. In a lot of ways, we do complement each other: he likes deep cleaning, tedious projects, and having lots of choices. This works out great because I hate all of those things.
But in a lot of other ways, we are fire and water. In a lot of other ways, you almost couldn't design a WORSE match.
When we first got married, Gabe was rigidly independent. It did not occur to him to allow me into his thought process, tell me when he needed something from the store, or check with me before watching a show or movie without me. To me, it felt like his ideal relationship was me leaving him alone.
When we first got married, I needed everything to have logical reasons. If Gabe couldn't present his thoughts to me in a persuasive essay, then he had to be wrong and we were NOT doing things his way.
I was (still am) WAY extroverted—I barely felt like I existed unless I was interacting with someone—and Gabe was WAY introverted. Life on a desert island with tourists who visit for two hours every other weekend was about his speed.
Gabe likes artsy movies and, in the beginning, he liked to watch them alone on his laptop. He hates movies with awkward situations or people making stupid choices and, well, that's most movies, so finding something to watch together was tough. His tastes in media were inextricably tied to his mood, so we'd go weeks or months not being able to finish a TV show because he just didn't feel like it.
I wanted a guy who would confront the people sitting in our seats at the theater or knock on the neighbor's door when he was being too loud. That isn't Gabe.
I loved showing Gabe love and gratitude on social media; he wouldn't reciprocate because he didn't like doing that kind of thing and thought it wouldn't feel authentic. That made me feel unloved and embarrassed.
I loved expressing my thoughts in writing (journaling, blogging, writing letters), and Gabe mostly couldn't.
I processed quickly, externally, and passionately. Gabe processed slowly, internally, gently. His opinions and heart were constantly splintered by the battering ram of my reactions.
I received love through quality time and physical touch, and Gabe seemed unable to speak either of those languages. I liked showing love by performing acts of service and words of affirmation, both of which made Gabe feel guilty and uncomfortable. His love language was gifts, which is my absolute Achilles heel. I felt awful.
For the first couple of years, I worried that I'd married the wrong person, that I'd made a mistake. As much as I loved Gabe, we weren't a good match. We were too different and we would never make each other happy. We'd doomed each other. (I confirmed a couple of years ago that Gabe had felt the same way.)
I never considered leaving him because that wasn't an option in my mind. I just thought we'd be a little bit unhappy forever.
But I think maybe God wanted to make a point? I've heard it said before that "marriage isn't about happiness, it's about holiness." Gabe and I shouldn't have gotten married because we thought we'd make each other happy, although I think that's what everyone does to some extent, and obviously you do want to be happy with your spouse.
I think God put us together because we both needed MAJOR remodeling as humans, and God wanted us to go through that journey together. It goes back to the post I wrote about being willing to change. If we had continued our marriage the way we began, we'd probably be miserable. But little by little we've changed just about everything about how we do marriage and our relationship. We've figured out what works for us and what doesn't. Gabe has learned that just because I sound angry doesn't mean I am. I've learned that sometimes Gabe says the wrong thing because he's still editing his thoughts, and I need to give him patience and the benefit of the doubt. Et cetera.
So many fights and panic attacks were started back in the day because one of us would drop a bomb that the other wasn't in a place to disarm. Now, we start every potentially stressful conversation with "I have something stressful to talk about" and give the other person time to brace him/herself. Or we'll ask, "Are you in a place to talk about X?" before launching into the topic, and respect the other's answer one way or the other.
At our cores, Gabe and I are the same people, but in some ways I barely recognize us. I genuinely cannot believe how different our marriage and personalities are from what they were eight years ago.
Are we perfect for each other on paper? Hell. No. But—not to sound cliché—I almost think that's made our marriage stronger. Two perfectly compatible people can have a beautiful marriage for sure, but there's something to be said for two people who went to WAR for each other's hearts, who shed blood, sweat, and tears to stay together.
(Note: I wouldn't want a young person to read all this and come away with, "See, my boyfriend/girlfriend and I CAN work out despite what everyone else says. We love each other enough to fight to stay together."
That's...not exactly what I mean. Or maybe it IS, but you both have to ACTUALLY be willing to change and do the work—not just say you're going to. Not just stay together in a crazy-dysfunctional relationship that isn't improving. Not just stay with someone because he/she says he'll change but you see no consistent, lasting difference. Like I said in the lucky post, Gabe and I both happened to marry people who were willing to change, but that is not everyone. I've been in "crazy-dysfunctional but we love each other enough to stay even though nothing is really improving" too and that's not worth it.)
Anyway, Gabe's and my marriage is obviously a young work-in-progress still, but I am proud of how different we are today.
Oh, and, in case this wasn't clear, I am now so, so, SO happy :) This post is probably gonna need a Part 2.
~Stephanie
